Chapter 9
Pouty Lips And Pillow Walls
Eavesdropping is wrong, right?
I rake a hand through my hair as I stand with my ear pressed to the bedroom door.
I was bringing Noelle an ice pack for her ankle but refrained from knocking when I heard voices inside.
Normally, I tune people out if they’re not speaking to me, but what comes from her friend’s end has me hesitating—more out of shock than anything else.
“Maybe he’s imagining all the ways to use them on you!”
I kept listening, stunned when I realized they were talking about me.
Noelle must have figured out I stumbled across her toy collection earlier.
I’d opened her suitcase to grab her phone like she instructed, and was left speechless when I found a pile of holiday-themed glittery dildos, butt plugs, and other devices.
My sunshine guest might not be as innocent as I thought.
But as much as my cock disagrees, Noelle is right—nothing will happen between us.
Not because I don’t want it to. Fuck, the longer she’s here, the more tempted I am to cross a line that could destroy the fragile balance that we’ve established, but my rationality prevails.
When it sounds like she’s wrapping up her call, I slowly back away from the door and slip into the kitchen before she notices I was listening in.
I toss the ice pack back in the freezer and start on lunch, grabbing ingredients for grilled cheese sandwiches and a carton of tomato soup I picked up in town before the storm hit.
I also swung by High Noon to handle payroll and order supplies.
As the busiest tourist spot around, it’s always packed before and after a storm.
And with Christmas only five days away, Casey wanted to make sure we ordered enough stock for January since many vendors shut down during the last week of December.
I’ve just put the grilled cheese sandwiches and soup on the stove when my phone buzzes on the counter.
Birdie: Checking in. Text me back when you have service.
Shep: There was a break in the weather. I’m fine.
Birdie: Has Noelle run for the hills yet?
Shep: Told you she was only staying one night.
Birdie: She’s still there, isn’t she?
Shep: Maybe.
Birdie: Are you being nice?
Shep: Maybe.
Birdie: Do you like her?
Shep: Maybe.
Shit. I hit send before I can edit my response.
Birdie: I knew it!
Shep: Maybe doesn’t mean yes.
Birdie: In your world it does.
Damn her for seeing right through me. Doesn’t mean I’m going to confirm her suspicion.
Birdie: Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.
Shep: I have to go. I’m making lunch.
Birdie: For Noelle?!
Shep: Bye Birdie.
If she and Noelle ever got together, they’d make sure I had no peace. So it’s probably a good thing that’ll never happen.
I flip the grilled cheese sandwiches on the skillet and give the tomato soup another stir. It’s nothing fancy, but I want to make sure Noelle eats before taking pain meds.
As I gather the tray table I keep on top of the fridge, medicine, bottled water, and a fresh ice pack, I replay the part of Noelle’s conversation I overheard about the holidays. She sounded so defeated when she said she wasn’t sure if she’d get to celebrate or put up a Christmas tree.
I recall her asking me whether I would decorate, but I brushed it off. I haven’t done anything for the holidays in years, and until now, I haven’t had a reason.
But maybe now I do.
Two pillows are tucked under my arm as I balance the tray with one hand and tap on the bedroom door with my other.
“Come in,” Noelle calls out.
I enter to find her still on the bed, her injured leg stretched out in front of her, the other folded beneath her thigh.
Her hair is pulled into a loose bun, and she leans against the headboard, scrolling through her phone.
She’s stunning with an understated elegance.
Two days ago, that was a mark against her, but I’ve quickly grown to like her confidence and effortless charm.
She glances in my direction as I place the tray on the bedside table.
“You didn’t need to knock. This is your room, and you don’t need permission to come in,” she says, motioning around.
“I wasn’t sure if you were done talking with your friend yet.” That’s partly true—I caught the tail end, but they could have continued after I was out of earshot. Unlikely but possible.
“Gemma is visiting family, so I didn’t want to keep her too long.”
“That was considerate of you.” Noelle watches as I take the pillows from under my arms and slide them under her foot. “Sorry, I forgot these earlier.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh, that’s okay.”
Looks like she’s hoping I won’t mention what I saw in her bag, and that’s fine by me. I’d rather not admit that I haven’t stopped thinking about those toys and all the ways I could make her come without even laying a finger on her.
I lift the ice pack for her to see. “I brought this too. It’ll help with the swelling.” She sighs softly when I put it on her ankle, laying it flat to stay in place.
“Thank you,” she whispers, relaxing against the headboard.
“No problem.” I take a seat on the edge of the bed. “Mind if I ask why you’re not spending the holidays with your family?”
Sadness clouds her features, yet she manages a small smile.
“I’m an only child, and my parents are on a month-long European cruise.
It’s the first year we won’t celebrate Christmas together, but they recently retired, and this is the first thing they’ve done for themselves in a long time.
I couldn’t ask them to change their plans. ”
“Why didn’t you go with them?” Noelle doesn’t strike me as someone who gives up easily on the things she values most.
“They invited me and my ex, but he wanted to stay in New York for the holidays, and after we split this past summer, it was too late for me to get a ticket.”
I’m not usually the sentimental type, but I feel for her.
I was close to both my parents before they passed, and even when I didn’t feel like celebrating after Danielle left, my mom made sure I came over every Christmas.
I didn’t always show it, but I cherished that time with my parents.
Not that I’m about to unload all that on Noelle right now.
“What did he do to make you end things?” I ask.
She tilts her head, smirking. “Why do you assume I was the one who left him?”
I scoff. “Even a fool wouldn’t walk away from you willingly.”
Noelle is beautiful, yeah, but it’s more than that. Her smile lights up a room, and her presence is magnetic. She’s selfless, and it’s clear that she always puts others first. Plenty of guys would take advantage of that, but no one would give her up unless she walked away.
Her breath catches, a faint flush blooming across her cheeks before she squares her shoulders and says, “He cheated on me with his yoga instructor. I’m not sure if it was the first time, but I made certain it was the last.”
On impulse, I cover her hand with mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Good on you, Sunshine. If he couldn’t see what was right in front of him, then he didn’t deserve you.” The man is damn lucky he’s not around because I wouldn’t hesitate to teach him a lesson he’d never forget for hurting her.
Noelle throws her head back and laughs, the melodic sound sending a buzz through my veins.
“You’re right. He wasn’t worth the trouble, and has freed up space for better things,” she says, her tone light but certain.
She deserves to be cherished and the center of someone’s world. If she belonged to me, I’d move heaven and earth so she’d never feel second best again. For a moment, I forget I’m supposed to be looking after her because she’s injured, not letting my mind wander into foolish daydreams.
She nods at the tray of food. “That smells incredible.”
“It tastes even better,” I say, glad for the distraction.
I let go of her hand to pick up the steaming bowl of soup and the spoon.
A look of confusion crosses Noelle’s face. “What are you doing?”
“Feeding you,” I state.
“I can do that myself.”
She reaches for the bowl, but I pick it up and hold it just out of reach.
I give her a leveled stare. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy, and I’m not willing to risk tomato soup on my comforter.”
She rolls her eyes. “Seriously? I hurt my ankle, not my wrist.”
Noelle’s right. She’s perfectly capable of feeding herself, and I couldn’t care less if the comforter gets stained.
It’s a ten-year-old bargain from a local discount store.
Still, as long as she’s here, I’m going to take care of her.
It’s been so long since I’ve had the chance, and I want to do it for her.
Noelle’s stomach growls, winning out over any further objections.
With a small chuckle, I bring a spoonful of soup to her lips. “Careful, it’s hot,” I murmur.
She blows on it before taking a bite. A soft moan escapes her mouth as she savors it, the sound going straight to my cock. Her eyes briefly flutter closed, and I take the opportunity to shift my position to hide that I’m affected by the noise.
When she swallows, I give her another spoonful, topped with a piece of grilled cheese I’d cut up and added to the soup before serving.
“Mmm, that’s delicious.” She leans in, eager for another bite. “I’ve never had grilled cheese and tomato soup served in one bowl before. It’s so good.”
“Glad you like it.”
I’m mesmerized as Noelle wraps her lips around the spoon, letting out a satisfied hum. There’s something incredibly satisfying about being the one responsible for her reaction.
She eats with fervor, and I proceed to feed her the whole bowl.
As she takes the last bite, a drop of soup trickles down her chin.
I’m tempted to lick it from her face, but I settle for reaching out and brushing it off with my thumb.
She stills under my touch, her eyes locking with mine as I bring my thumb to my mouth and suck it clean.
I put the bowl back on the tray as Noelle holds me captive with her heated gaze.
I inch forward, drawn to her like a magnet, and move my hand along the line of her jaw, each touch fueling the electric tension flowing between us.
I trace the seam of her lip with my finger, and in turn, her tongue darts out, licking my thumb, her breath coming out in short gasps.
I instinctively lean closer, wishing I was teasing her pouty mouth with mine, or imagine what it might be like to have her on her knees as I feed my cock between those pretty lips.
My runaway fantasy is cut short when Noelle shifts, flinching slightly.
I pull back, frowning. “What’s the matter?”
She winces as she tries to wave me off. “I’m okay. My ankle’s just acting up.”
Goddammit. I can’t afford a distraction when she’s hurting—not when I’m supposed to be taking care of her.
I turn to grab the two pills and bottle of water from the tray and hand them to her.
“Take these. They’ll help with the pain.” I nod to her ankle.
“Thank you.” She takes the medicine and swallows it down. “Would you mind helping me to the living room? I’m a little tired, and I’d like to take a nap.”
“You’ll have one here.” I take the bottle from her and put it back on the tray. “My bed is far more comfortable. In fact, you sleep here tonight, and I’ll take the couch. It’ll be much easier to keep your ankle elevated.”
I won’t lie—I like seeing her here in my bed. Am I playing with fire? Probably.
Despite my decidedly pathetic attempts to keep her at arm’s length, I’m quickly becoming attached to Noelle, and it’s a scary concept.
Hell, I haven’t so much as kissed a woman in ten years.
At first, it was to avoid opening old wounds, but eventually, shutting myself off became second nature, and I’ve almost forgotten how to let someone in.
Yet, with Noelle, every instinct to stay guarded has splintered, and I wonder if I’m as hardened as I thought.
She vehemently shakes her head. “No way I’m sleeping in your bed. You’d be too cramped on the couch. It’s practically a loveseat. Plus, I’d feel guilty kicking you out.”
“You’re not. I offered,” I remind her.
“You’re cranky enough as it is,” she says, lightly poking my chest. “I can only imagine you after a night spent on lumpy couch cushions.”
I playfully swat her hand away. “Well, I draw the line at sleeping in the barn, so what do you propose? You’re staying here and that’s final.”
Noelle twists a lock of hair around her finger, thinking for a beat before saying, “Simple. We’ll share.”
There’s no way I heard her right. “Come again?”
“There’s plenty of room for both of us, and enough pillows to make a barrier if you’re worried I’ll invade your space,” she says with a grin.
It’s a terrible idea. I should be finding ways to stop thinking about ravishing those pink, pouty lips or how she’d feel beneath my touch as I traced her every curve.
So why haven’t I told her no yet?
Because no matter how difficult it is to restrain myself, I can’t pass up the chance to be close to her, especially if it’s my only chance before she’s gone. And like she said, we’ll be on opposite sides of the bed with a pillow wall, so it’s totally innocent. Right?
“Fine, we’ll share the bed.” I keep my tone neutral. “But that means you’ll stay put and ask me to get anything you need. Your only job is to rest your ankle, got it?”
“I can live with that,” she says, smiling brightly.
Fuck, I’m in so much trouble.