Chapter 30
NOAH
Another deep breath, Noah. You’re okay. Just keep breathing.
My chest stutters to obey the command. As time steadily passes, the horror of my wedding night continues, and I struggle with the repercussions.
Sleepless hours haunted by nightmares. Hiding myself away, locked inside the hell Bradley threw me into.
You need to heal. It takes time. My lip trembles as I roll everything over in my mind. No matter how kind I am to myself, worry is steadily mounting that I might never get over the trauma of what Bradley and his friends did to me.
Covering my face with both hands, I try in vain to push those bastards out of my head.
It’s impossible. They’ve tainted me with their evil.
Letting out a shuddering exhale, I try to breathe through the chaos in my head.
What was Bradley’s motive when he left me there, broken and bruised and damaged?
What did he think I was going to do in the aftermath?
They abused me in the worst way, then Bradley had the audacity to use the honeymoon trip to avoid the repercussions.
I’m certain he must be back in LA by now, but he hasn’t tried to make contact.
Frankly, I’m anxious to know what his next move is.
A derisive chuckle leaves my lips. The photographs of the wedding have hit the tabloids.
We continue to be country music’s it couple, and that’s all he’s ever cared about.
His star is rising while the thought of allowing the entire world to believe we’re in love sits bitterly on my tongue.
His ego is just too big. I should have known things were going to go bad the minute he tugged me out of Rhett’s arms.
This ugliness is so far from over. I won’t stay with Bradley, but I’m tied to him by both my music career and a fucking marriage license, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. The anguish he’s caused me, the trauma—there’s no undoing.
Not on my own, anyway. I see that now. The conversation I had with Sage hasn’t been far from my mind.
I can’t go on like I have been. What Bradley did is always with me, a grimy, insidious cloud that infiltrates my thoughts, sending me to my knees whenever it grabs hold of me.
Tears spring to my eyes. I’m so fucking tired of crying. So fucking tired.
I need help. I need Rhett. Can the man I left behind be the one who puts the jagged shards of me back together?
Rolling onto my side, my hand flattens on the wall of Rhett’s chest. Being next to him is the only comfort I need to push through the racing thoughts.
I relish the even inhale and exhale of his breathing.
The enormity of my feelings for him are terrifying.
Am I strong enough to take back what should never have been pushed away?
I have to be. Because no one else knows me well enough to help me heal this ravaged soul of mine.
In the dark my gaze traces over the outline of the man beside me. I want to bury myself inside his warmth and let him soothe me in the way only he can.
Rhett shifts in his sleep, and I inch closer, burrowing into his side, allowing myself to breathe him in. The familiar grounding scent of raw earthiness lingers there, comforting me in a way not much else does.
Deep in a dream, his body unerringly seeks mine out, and he tucks me more firmly against him. At close range, my gaze skims over his profile, then I notice his lips begin to twitch. A moment later, he mumbles groggily, “Love you, Noah.”
It’s enough to stop my heart. A hard lump forms in my throat as I study him while he continues to slumber peacefully.
If only he knew just how deep my regret runs.
How much I’ve always loved him, even when I ran toward an uncertain future, hoping it would eventually lead me back to him.
I didn’t want to make him choose between me and this ranch, but that’s what I was doing.
I was wrong. I know that now. So much time was spent looking in my rearview, searching for the other half of me.
My chest clenches. Please, Rhett. Right now I need his strength more than I need my next breath. His steady presence. His unwavering support. Fuck. I just need him.
Slowly, I slide my hand along his chest and shift closer, pressing a careful kiss to the column of his throat. The pulse there jumps at my touch, and he moans a bit. “Noah. You okay?” Concern mixed with sleep deepens his rough voice.
His lips meet my forehead, and he rolls to fully face me, securing my body to his with one arm. I tuck my head under his chin as his hand runs possessively down the curve of my spine before sliding lower. He groans sleepily and squeezes the soft flesh of my ass cheek under his palm.
With a jerk, he stops what he’s doing, muttering a curse and pulling back.
I immediately feel the loss, the space between us too much, like the widest canyon.
“Don’t stop.” I swallow, reaching for him.
Words are jammed in my throat, and I tip my chin upward to find his dark eyes watching me like he’s terrified.
Dragging in a ragged breath, I beg, “Help me forget.”
His brows furrow, chest rising as we lie here together, so much unspoken between us. “Noah …” He lets out a strangled sound.
My lips tremble. “Every time I close my eyes, I can see them. Feel them.” My lungs stutter as I watch for his response.
Rhett’s hesitation seems to last an eternity, and my hope begins to slip away. Just when I’ve convinced myself that I’ve truly broken us beyond repair, that he’s going to deny me, he lifts a careful hand, brushing hair from my face. “Are you sure? Because I need you to be.”
My chest jerks as emotion twists and relief courses through it. Chin dipping to my chest, I’m unable to stop the quiet sob that erupts from my lips.
“Do you trust me?” His eyes drift over my features, searching for the truth.
My gaze locks on his, and I nod again as my body trembles.
“Words, Noah.” His hand cups my cheek, warm and sure as he stares into my eyes. “I need them.”
Touching the place over his heart, I feel the sure, steady thrum under my fingertips. It’s grounding. “I trust you. I always have.”
His breath hitches as he lowers his face to mine, and a groan rumbles in his chest. “Listen to me, okay?” Conviction laces his words, but then he lets me feel them, too, his lips brushing over mine as he speaks.
“I understand wanting to forget. But I think I need you to remember. The way I touched you. Held you. Loved you.”
“I want that, too.”
And then, he’s moving, getting up from the bed and rummaging for something in the chest of drawers. “What are you doing?” My brows crash together as I watch the determination in his actions.
He’s back a moment later, standing at the foot of the bed and raking a hand through his hair.
Under the growth of his beard, I can tell there’s a muscle twitching at the back of his jaw.
He studies me, and my eyes flick down to his other hand.
I have faith that whatever he has in mind is something he thinks I need.
“Are you with me?” he grits out, and I nod, never in my life having questioned Rhett’s intentions. “Lie in the center of the bed.”
Moving quickly, he climbs onto the mattress at my side and while I watch with curious eyes, he holds a silky piece of fabric up and tilts his head, asking for permission. “I want you to use all your senses. Trust that I can remind you how we were together.”
I let out a stuttered breath, nodding. “Okay.”
He straddles my waist and reaches forward, unlooping a length of rope from his bedpost. My eyes widen, but he sets it aside with a tiny smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.
One second, I can see his facial features as he moves in the shadows of the dark room, and the next, he’s secured the blindfold around my head, and my world becomes one void of sight.
Cupping my face with strong hands, his touch is loving. Reverent. “I’m going to talk you through it. All you have to do is listen to my voice. Feel my warmth and the pressure of my touch.” My heart stutters as he continues, “Remember the scent of my skin. The taste of me on your tongue.”
His hands smooth along my neck, and fingertips dance over my shoulders before continuing downward until they reach my hands.
He squeezes them briefly. “Tell me if anything I do is too much.” My brow furrows under the blindfold, and for a moment, all I can concentrate on is the steady thrum of my heart.
Then, he’s shifting over me, and I listen to the rustle of movement as he takes me by the wrist, bringing my arm over my head.
“For now, I just want you to concentrate on touch.” He uses the rope to tie one wrist to the bedpost, then quickly fastens the other.
I inhale deeply, my chest rising with it.
The material of his jersey teases over my skin as he drags it upward, exposing my breasts to his view.
I jerk, gasping as his warm breath fans over one nipple.
“I’m here. Just looking at you.” His voice is smoother than whiskey.
“I remember how you like to be teased.” His rough swallow meets my ears. “Is that okay?”
A swarm of memories infiltrates my thoughts.
Days we’d ridden out into one of the pastures on our horses.
Had lazy sex in the shade of a tree. Countless occasions when we’d secretly met in his barn or he’d snuck into my room at my parents’ home.
Long nights spent in each other’s arms, satisfying a craving we could never quite seem to quench.
More than anything, I’m overwhelmed remembering the headiness of those days and nights and how we’d learned to love each other.
“Gonna touch you now. We’ll start slow,” he grits out. I squirm, not knowing where he’ll begin. “It’s just you and me here.”
His fingertips trail over my stomach, and it dips as an involuntary gasp pulls from my throat.