Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Such hours are beautiful to live, but very hard to describe.” ~Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
N at’s eyes blinked open. The quiet sleeping loft was bathed in warm darkness. The bed was empty beside her.
Had it just been a vivid dream? She lifted the blanket to see her very naked bottom half.
Settling the blanket at her waist, her lips curved up. “Oh, my goddess,” she whispered to herself.
It had happened. Not only had she kissed Noah, but he kissed her back. A lot. There’d been the best oral sex…well, sex, to be honest, of her life. Even better than that, which was pretty damn hard to top, he saw her. Truly saw her. She wasn’t Clayton’s little sister in his eyes. She was Nat, and he liked Nat.
How long had she slept? She grabbed her phone from the bedstand. It was almost nine p.m. It must have been around six when they fell asleep. Her eyes flicked around the room. “Wait, where is he?”
Had he done a wham-bam-let-me-go-down-on-you-and-run-thank-you-ma’am? Shaking her head, she knew that couldn’t be right. Noah was gone, but he wouldn’t do that. Even if this was just a one-time thing, he’d not do that to her. Just like the teeter-totter, he’d never let her hit the ground like that.
Pushing the blanket off, she jumped out of bed. After tossing her shirt and bra into the wicker hamper in the corner, she grabbed her blue fluffy cloud robe and wrapped it around her. Then, she padded to the stairs.
With each step, the pungent smell of garlic danced in her nostrils. The soft sound of a cabinet being eased shut drifted from the kitchen.
She bounded down the rest of the stairs, entering the large living room and kitchen area. Noah stood at the island, chopping a bell pepper on a pug-shaped cutting board.
“Are you cooking?” she gaped.
His smile quirked with mischief. “Well, if we counted on your cooking we’d starve or get food poisoning.”
“We never verified that it wasn’t a stomach bug.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
There was no proof that the turkey chili she’d made five years ago for a Wilson/Owens Sunday dinner made everyone pray at the altar of the porcelain god. Despite the lack of proof, the two families agreed Nat was no longer allowed to cook.
“So…” She drew out the word as if it would somehow fill in what to say next.
A conversation was needed. What happens next? Was this a one-time thing? Was this more? What did he want? Goddess, what did she want?
“You’re spinning, Nat.” Noah’s warm gaze silenced the many questions wandering inside her.
“Just a bit.” She held up her thumb and pointer finger squeezed together. “We do need to talk, though.”
Noah tossed the sliced bell pepper into a large salad bowl.
I have a salad bowl? Her forehead puckered.
“What are you cooking?” she asked, leaning against the counter.
“I have a vegetarian lasagna in the oven. I’m making a salad and unburnt garlic bread.” A cheeky grin covered his face.
“Hardy-har-har,” she mocked. “You burn the garlic bread once and they don’t let you live it down.”
His right brow ticked up.
“Okay, twice.” She snagged a slice of bell pepper from the bowl and bit into it. “So, where’d you get the supplies? I survive on takeout, premade salads, and yogurt.”
“I noticed,” he chuckled. “While you were sleeping, I ran to the store to pick up a few things and grabbed some cooking utensils from my place. I left a note.” His head tipped to a piece of notebook paper held on the fridge door with a Sailor Moon magnet. His gaze locked on her. “I didn’t want you to think I bailed on you.”
“I know you wouldn’t.”
The intimacy of their gazes pinned both in place. The companionable silence cocooned them in mutual understanding. She saw him as much as he saw her. The idea of seeing and being seen caused happiness to bloom within her.
“Dinner will be ready in twenty-five minutes. It looks like you were about to shower. Why don’t you do that? Then we can eat and talk.”
“Sounds like a plan, Stan.” A goofy lilt coated her words.
Plan Stan? WTF Nat! She bit her lip and pushed off the counter.
“Nat, wait.”
“Yup?” She twirled to face him.
He leaned over the counter, capturing her lips in a slow, savoring kiss. Every nerve ending ignited. Her toes curled. All the romantic clichés hit her body with the heat of his kiss.
Pulling back, his dimples popped with a big grin. “I know we will talk over dinner, but I don’t want you to think this is just a one-time thing. At least not for me.”
Despite her quickened pulse, a strange easiness relaxed away any whispered rigidness of her body. “It’s not a one-time thing for me either.”
Showered and changed into a short, green, sunflower-patterned T-shirt dress, she descended from the sleeping loft to find the table set. Her scrapbooking supplies had been tucked back into her bedazzled crafting kit and moved to the desk near the front window. The salad bowl, which he’d clearly brought from home, a glass dish of lasagna, and a platter of unburnt garlic bread sat on the counter. A set of pint glasses and silverware flanked white ceramic plates and bowls trimmed in swirls of bright rainbows on the table.
“This looks great,” she said, inhaling the delicious aroma.
Stepping close, Noah brushed a loose tendril of her hair behind her ear. “You look beautiful.”
No smile erupted because a permanent one was Gorilla-glued to her face. She fought the urge to pinch herself just to confirm this wasn’t a dream, just in case it was.
If it is, let me keep sleeping.
She settled at the table while Noah made their plates. He’d changed from the blue jeans and T-shirt he’d worn earlier into a different pair of jeans and a black T-shirt with Farmer’s Ale in white block lettering. The shirt molded over his sculpted chest and cut torso.
“What?” Noah’s eyebrow cocked, and a smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.
“Just admiring you in that T-shirt.” She winked and picked up a fork.
A rumble of laughter skipped out of him. “Nat Owens, do not objectify me.” He bent and kissed her forehead. “I’m going to grab your cider and my beer out of the fridge. Try not to ogle my ass as I do so.”
As Noah strode to the fridge, the laughter belted out of her. With a seductive sway of his hips that rivaled Jessica Rabbit, he sauntered to the fridge, opened it, and bent over. Head twisted over his shoulder, he winked with a cheeky smile.
“You’re ridiculous,” she giggled.
This was the best part about Noah. Well, they were all the best parts. He always made her laugh or smile or both. Even in the darkest of moments, his light shined so bright. Its brightness seemed to almost say it was all only for her. The crush-sick little girl and teenager who had daydreamed about this were floored that their fantasies didn’t hold a candle to the reality of Noah.
In his usual stride, he returned to the table and placed the bottles of watermelon cider and pale ale on the table. With the bottle opener from his keychain, he popped each bottle and poured them into their glasses.
“Before we do the very adult thing of talking,” she said, glass in hand. “A toast to the chef.”
They clinked glasses.
“So, you finally went full vegetarian?” She forked up a bite of cheesy lasagna.
“Yeah. I couldn’t stomach it anymore. The smell…” His eyes shifted to the darkness outside the window.
Those blue eyes saw so much but had seen even more. Much more than the charming smile and amiable personality showed the world. At times, the unsaid seemed to weigh heavy on him. That heaviness sometimes cast shadows under his eyes after suspected sleepless nights, kidnapped him to a different place while his body remained in the room, and pinned a rigidity to his jaw.
They’d never really spoken about what happened during his two deployments. What he’d seen. What he’d done. She knew he’d been injured but never pushed. Instead, she just allowed herself to be there in quiet acceptance. After all, she understood the pain of things you could…or wouldn’t talk about.
“It’s really good,” she commented, taking another bite.
Noah’s gaze drifted back to her. “Thanks.”
“There’re so many vegetarian options for things. Even wings. I had some decent cauliflower wings back in Boston.”
His face contorted into a grimace. “I draw the line there! Daryl’s wings and pizza with Clayton is the exception. Can’t break tradition.”
Nat nodded.
Once a week since they’d been fourteen, minus the time both lived in different places, Clayton and Noah grabbed takeout from Daryl’s Pizzeria. It started as a post-game tradition on Wednesday nights after their JV football games. It was just one of the many traditions they had.
“Clayton,” she said, nibbling on her lip.
“Clayton,” he repeated.
“If this isn’t a one-time thing, that is one six-foot-five hurdle we’ll need to get over.” Nat’s mouth dropped open. Her breath caught. “Oh, my goddess…our fathers… our mothers .”
How would their families react to this? How would this impact the dynamic between the attached-at-the-hip Wilson and Owens clans? Nat liked the idea of it pulling them even closer, but her stomach swirled with misgiving that this relationship, if it was that, wouldn’t be welcomed. He was ten years older than her. Their families were so close. If this didn’t go anywhere or ended badly, it may impact that closeness for everyone.
Noah reached across the table, threading his fingers in hers. “We don’t have to tell them. Not right away. We don’t have to tell anyone. We can figure us out first and then tell others.”
“Keep this secret?”
He gently squeezed her hand. “Yes. To allow us to relax into this and find our footing together. The look of sheer panic on your face about our families finding out about us leads me to believe this may be the best thing. For now.”
Tightness gripped her shoulders. “What if I want to tell them?”
“Then I’ll hold your hand as we tell them together.”
That tightness dissolved.
Keeping this secret was the best course of action. It allowed them to figure themselves out as a couple. To figure out if they were a couple.
So much to figure out!
The fact that if she desired to tell their families, that he’d be right beside her as they did, bolstered her resolve to keep this a secret. Her choice wasn’t made out of shame or embarrassment. It may seem like this relationship was a dirty little secret, but it wasn’t. The only thing dirty about this relationship was the things she planned to do to him once dinner was over.
“And I’d hold yours.” She squeezed his hand in hers.
Fresh coolness surrounded them as they walked, hands clasped, to the pond. With Clayton and Elle gone, the two-acre property on the lonely country road played the role of their secret hideaway. A place they could be undiscovered in the glow of the moonlight.
Snuggled in one of the Adirondack chairs on the dock, Noah’s arms wrapped around her waist. Back pressed against his firm chest, she inhaled his pine scent. Stars twinkled in the velvet sky.
One of her favorite things about coming home was the nightly star display. Unlike Boston with its city light pollution, in Perry, the sky glowed each night with visible constellations, solo stars, and planets. The out-of-the-world view was fitting for the surreal sensation that enveloped her while in Noah’s arms.
“This feels unreal,” she murmured.
“It’s real.” He nuzzled her neck. “We’re real.”
“So, we’re giving this a shot. Does that mean you’re not seeing anyone else? If you are, that’s fine. I just want to know.” A high-pitched tone held her voice at knifepoint.
“I’m not seeing anyone else.”
“What about Willa?” She closed her eyes, bracing for the response.
“We kissed once, a year ago, after I’d first met her. We decided we were better as friends.”
“Why?”
The hold around her tightened. “Because she wasn’t who I wanted. Not then and not now.”
“And she knows this?”
The idea of Willa pining for Noah just like Nat had made her heart frown—not with jealousy, but with concern. Unrequited feelings were the truest of heartbreak.
“Yes.” He combed his long fingers into her hair. “Willa flirts and kisses men that she knows there’s no hope of anything happening with. I was just a diversion for her, nothing more.”
“If you were a distraction for her, what was she for you?” She adjusted in his lap, allowing their gazes to meet.
“A friend.”
Nat nodded.
The truth shined in his eyes. Only friendship bonded he and Willa. She could trust in that because she could trust in him. If he wanted Willa, he’d have pursued her. He was here with Nat.
The jealousy about Willa had less to do with an actual belief that they were together and more about her not being the one whose fingers skated across his bicep at the brewery. She was woman enough to admit that, even if it was only to herself.
“How about you? Any other assholes-at-law I need to be aware of?” he asked.
Nat frowned. “No.”
“I’m sorry. That was careless of me to say.” The palm of his right hand cradled her cheek.
“No, it’s not what you said. It’s the fact that I chose to go out with Duncan…again.” She jumped up, needing to move and calm the anxiety jittering along her limbs. With measured steps, she paced the small dock. “There were signs I missed. Even when we dated in high school. My girlfriends went all swoony for how he’d walk me to and from every class, how he’d sit with me at lunch while the other boyfriends sat with their guy friends, and how he’d call or come by my house every day. They’d tell me how lucky I was. So, I thought I was lucky.”
With a huffed breath, she spun, facing the pond, keeping Noah behind her. It was too much to look at him. To see the flex of his pupils as she admitted this out loud.
“He was always possessive. He’d get upset if I didn’t text back right away or if I had plans with someone else. But then the cruel words or cutting remarks would be washed away with a charming smile, surprise gift, or a romantic gesture.”
“Cruel words?”
“He’d say I acted like I was ‘better’ than him, how selfish I was, or that I didn’t know how lucky I was to have him. That everyone says it but me, which always seemed to be reinforced by my friends,” she whispered, an acrid taste in her throat with Duncan’s remembered jabs.
“Did he ever do more than words?”
She didn’t need to turn to take in the storm clouds marring his handsome features. His clenched jaw and balled-up fists were audible in the deliberate cadence of his speech.
Nat moved to the edge of the pond, lowered to the hard plank surface, and slipped her feet into the cool dark water. “No. Today was the first time he got physical. It was like a Jekyll and Hyde switch went off in him. Only I think the Mr. Hyde in him got stronger over the years. When he grabbed my arm, all my unrecognized apprehensions howled.” She released a long, stuttered breath. “It shouldn’t take someone escalating to that level to realize they’re a bad guy. I mean, I still went out with him. I dated him for almost two years in high school and then went out with him…again.”
The space beside her filled with Noah’s presence. He lowered to a seated position on the edge of the dock beside her, dangling his denim-covered legs in the water.
“First, you broke up with him twice. Both times you realized he was a Grade-A asshole.”
The corners of her lips raised into a weak smile at his words.
“Second, there’s truth behind the cliché about a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Guys like Duncan know how to hide who they are. How to lure people and keep them lured.”
“Summer saw it,” she sighed.
“Sometimes it’s easier to see things when you’re on the outside looking in.”
“She wasn’t the only one. Clayton and Evan never liked him.”
“Well, Clayton hasn’t liked any of your boyfriends.”
Their eyes met in a clumsy stare.
Clayton not liking anyone she dated may soon include his best friend. How would their relationship change a friendship that spanned the entirety of both men’s lives?
Weaving their fingers together, Noah lifted their intertwined hands to his mouth and pressed a tender kiss on her knuckles. “I’m not worried about Clayton right now. We’ll figure that out. I am worried about you, though. I don’t want to be the guy who tells you what to do, but here it goes, guys like Duncan feed on control. On making people so knotted up that he retains power. Blaming yourself for his actions lets him control you from afar. Please don’t give him the power to take away your ability to see how strong you are. Even if you didn’t know it then, there was something in you that knew he was bad news. You broke up with him twice .”
Closing her eyes, she inhaled deep his words as they floated between them. It was true she’d ended things with Duncan. There’d always been a nibbling concern in her belly about him. How many times had she asked her girlfriends in high school if his behavior was normal? Even the hesitation with this recent dalliance was coated in an unconscious knowing that he was, indeed, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“You’re right. Thank you.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. Her feet danced in the cool pond, one bare foot tapping against the leg of his soaked jeans. “Your jeans are wet. You should have rolled them up or taken them off.”
“You just want to see my butt in my boxer briefs.” He waggled his eyebrows.
With an arched brow, she shoved him into the pond. The splash sprayed cool droplets along her skin.
Emerging from the water, he half-laughed, half-choked. “Oh, you’re in trouble now.” Raising up in the water, his strong arms encircled her waist, hoisting her up in the air.
“Noah!” she squeaked.
It was only fair. Nose plugged and eyes closed in a preemptive bracing, she readied to be hurled into the water. Only there was no hurling. Instead, he eased them into the water together, his arms wrapped around her as he walked them to the middle of the pond, where he could still touch, but she could not.
Goose pimples bloomed along her skin. Wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, she leaned into the anchored floating sensation. Somehow, she was both light in the gravity-defying water and, yet, tethered to safety in his arms.
“Well, this is one way to make me wet,” she joked.
He burst into laughter. The blue in his eyes sparkled as if all the stars in the sky had been relocated within them. “Your quick wit is one of my favorite things about you.”
“One of your favorite things? What are the others?”
“That may take all night to list.”
“Perhaps you should sleep over then,” she said, lowering her hand under the water and sliding it beneath his wet T-shirt.
The muscles of his stomach contracted at her touch.
“Perhaps.” He took her mouth in a heated kiss.