Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Eli woke slowly, drifting up from sleep as though he was rising through warm water. His first thought was that the blanket covering him smelled faintly like cedar and cinnamon.
His second, the one that made his heart cave in on itself in one stunned, aching thump, was that he wasn’t alone. Soft breath stirred the hairs on the back of his neck, and there was the weight of a steady arm around his waist.
The storm had howled during the night, rattling the windows of Noah’s small house.
They’d curled up in the blankets, the fire burning.
At some point, Eli had woken to find Noah adding more logs, before returning to Eli and warmth.
One kiss led to another, warm hands found things to coax and caress, and suddenly the blankets were superfluous.
Eli recalled falling asleep wrapped around Noah, skin warm against skin, their breaths slow and easy in the dark.
I want to see him.
Eli turned, moving in tiny increments so as not to disturb Noah, and when Noah withdrew his arm, Eli held his breath.
Noah’s breathing didn’t change. Eli rolled onto his side to take in the view.
In the gray morning light filtering through the frosted window, Noah lay beside him, half on his stomach, his face relaxed in sleep, and Eli remembered everything. Noah’s warmth. Noah everywhere.
Eli stared at the dark sweep of his lashes, the curve of his shoulder, the faint bite mark at the base of his neck, a mark Eli pretended not to blush about. A quiet awe spread through him.
This happened. Last night actually happened.
Outside, the world was buried in white silence.
Inside, Eli’s world felt breathtakingly, terrifyingly different, and now he didn’t want to move for fear of changing it.
Noah stirred, blinking awake. He opened his eyes slowly, focusing on Eli before softening into a sleepy smile that stole every ounce of air from Eli’s lungs.
“Morning,” Noah murmured, his voice still wrecked from sleep.
And maybe from other things too.
“Morning,” he whispered back, doing his best to sound normal, casual.
Noah shifted closer, sliding an arm around Eli’s waist, tucking his face against Eli’s shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
And God, that simple, warm, trusting gesture undid Eli more than anything last night had.
“You’re warm.” Noah’s words were muffled. His beard was a little rough against Eli’s shoulder.
“You’re not,” Eli countered.
“I run cold,” Noah said sleepily. “You’ll learn.”
Eli’s chest tightened at that. You’ll learn. It sounded hopeful. Warmth spread through him, only to be followed immediately by panic.
Morning changed things. It always did.
Noah’s arm loosened slightly, as if he sensed the shift. He pulled back, a faint crease across his forehead. “You okay?”
Eli hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Are you?”
Something flickered in Noah’s eyes and he exhaled. “Yeah. More than okay.”
Relief and warmth spread through Eli’s chest. “Good.”
“I’ll light the fire, then I’ll go make the coffee.” Noah sat up, and before he could climb out from beneath the blankets, Eli pulled him down into a kiss, taking his time.
Noah sighed. “Now that’s a great way to say good morning.” He kissed Eli back, stroking his chest, his belly, edging his way lower until his fingertips grazed the head of Eli’s cock. “And speaking of morning…”
Eli couldn’t hold in his laughter. “Aren’t you supposed to be good with wood?”
Noah’s eyes sparkled.
Coffee would have to wait.
Eli finally made his way into the kitchen where Noah stood with his back to him, humming as he whisked eggs. The aroma of coffee reached Eli’s nostrils.
Noah wore sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair still mussed from sleep and—
Nope. Not thinking about that. Such thoughts would only lead in one direction, and the lure of the coffee was too great to ignore.
Noah handed him a mug, then leaned against the counter. “You sure you’re all right?”
“As all right as I was when you last asked me.” Eli peered at him. “You?”
Noah’s smile lit up his face. “Yeah. I just… I wanted it to be good for you.”
Eli’s cheeks heated, but he didn’t look away. “It was,” he said. “Really.”
Noah’s expression was a mixture of relief and pride.
“And I’m hoping it was just as good for you.”
Noah’s eyes were warm. “Oh yeah.”
It was amazing how two little words could make someone feel so powerful.
They sipped coffee side by side. Through the window, Eli watched the snow drift, robbed of the previous night’s fervor.
Noah turned toward him. “I don’t want this to be confusing or rushed. I know last night was… fast.”
“Fast doesn’t mean wrong,” Eli said quickly, his voice steady.
Noah huffed out a breath. “Still. If we… if we do this again and you wake up and realize you want distance, or if you’re unsure, I’d rather know than guess.”
Eli’s heart thudded at the bravery and honesty in Noah’s words.
“I don’t want distance,” he said simply.
Noah stilled. Then a smile bloomed, an echo of how he’d looked the night before.
“Good.” He gestured to the bowl. “Scrambled eggs okay? Toast?”
“That sounds great.” Eli grinned. “Although that grilled cheese you made for us at whatever hour it was this morning was delicious.”
“You can’t have that for breakfast,” Noah said in a firm tone.
Eli arched his eyebrows. “Why not? Do you have strong opinions about what does and doesn’t constitute breakfast?”
“Not at all.” Noah bit his lip. “We ate the last of the cheese.”
He chuckled. “Eggs it is, then.”
“And after breakfast, I’ll walk you back to the bakery.” Eli let out a groan, and Noah frowned. “Don’t you want me to?”
Eli hastened to assure him. “No, it’s not that, it’s just the thought of what Aileen is going to say. Because you know she’ll say something. And then she’ll probably keep right on saying it.”
“Do you need some moral support?”
Eli had a feeling that would only delay the inevitable.
“I can manage. I’m a big boy.”
Noah’s eyes twinkled. “Yeah, I noticed. Especially when you were—”
Eli stopped his words with a finger. “Uh-uh. Don’t,” he warned.
More of that, and he knew exactly where they’d end up spending their day—and what they’d be doing.
After breakfast, they bundled up, and Noah opened the door to a world dusted in white, soft and glowing.
The storm had passed, leaving everything quiet and sharp and bright.
The walk back to Aileen’s was slower this time, partly because the roads were slick, and partly because Noah kept brushing their arms together as if he couldn’t help it.
When they were a block away, Noah reached for Eli’s hand and laced their fingers together.
Eli’s breathing hitched.
“Is this okay?”
“Yeah.” Eli smiled. “It’s perfect.”
They walked the rest of the way hand in hand, snowflakes drifting around them as though they were in the world’s quietest snow globe.
When they reached the back door of the bakery, neither moved to let go.
Noah gave him a searching gaze. “Can I see you tonight? Not for… you know. Unless you want. I just—I want more time with you.”
Eli swallowed, his chest suddenly tight. “I want that too.”
Obvious relief flooded Noah’s face. He leaned in, not for a deep kiss, but a soft, lingering one. A good-morning kiss.
A this-matters kiss.
When Noah pulled back, he didn’t retreat too far. “Text me when you thaw out?”
“I will.”
“And…” Noah hesitated. “If anything feels overwhelming today… tell me? We’ll figure it out together.”
Together.
The word was both a spark and a balm.
Eli nodded. “Okay.”
Noah squeezed his hand one more time before letting go.
“See you tonight, Eli.”
“Tonight,” Eli echoed.
He watched Noah turn and walk away, snow dusting his shoulders, his hoodie pulled tight against the cold. Then he was gone.
There were a thousand things Eli didn’t know yet, so many things he had yet to figure out. What tugged at his heart, however, was the sketchbook sitting in his duffel back at Aileen’s place, waiting.
But right then, he knew a couple of things for certain.
Last night wasn’t a mistake.
This morning wasn’t awkward.
And whatever this was—whatever it was becoming—it felt like something bright was beginning, as bright as the snow that surrounded him.
The second he stepped through the bakery’s back door, Aileen’s eyebrows shot up like fireworks.
“Oh. You made it home then.”
Eli attempted a neutral expression that probably failed. “Morning.”
Aileen glanced at his heated cheeks. “I hope it was a good morning at least.”
More heat blossomed, spreading up his neck.
“Were you safe?”
“Aileen,” he interjected. “I am begging you to stop talking.”
She grinned. “Fine. Your hair looks nice.”
He ran a self-conscious hand through it.
Aileen passed him a mug of something warm and cocoa-like. “Sit,” she said. “I want a six-word summary, no more, no less.”
“Who’s working in the bakery, Santa Claus? Or did he loan you an elf or two?”
“Sam’s here. Now where’s my summary?”
He rolled his eyes. “Why six words?”
“It’s the rule,” she said.
“Who invented it?”
“I did. Now stop being so exasperating and tell me.”
“Fine, but I’m going with safe-for-work vocabulary.” He exhaled, thinking. “Snowstorm. Fire. Coffee. Him. Good morning.”
Aileen’s face glowed. She touched his hand, squeezing it lightly. “I’m happy for you.”
His throat thickened. “It’s early days, okay? It’s not official.”
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed in that older-sister-I-know-everything way.
He stared at his cocoa. Last night had been unexpected. Intense. And this morning had been—
Different.
Real.
He wasn’t na?ve. He knew early days could be bright and flaring. But something about Noah wasn’t a spark; he was a steady light, warm and deliberate.
What terrified Eli was how easy it was to want that warmth again.
And that wasn’t something he was about to share with his sister.
“What are we doing this morning?”
“Dough prep first. I’m expecting a morning rush. And you’re helping.”
Eli removed his coat and scarf, rolled up his sleeves, washed his hands, and launched himself into work. It wasn’t long before the smell of rising dough and caramelized sugar wrapped around the bakery like a blanket. As he worked, one thought hummed beneath everything like an undercurrent.
Tonight.
I’ll see Noah tonight.
But as the morning wore on, seeds of doubt took root.
Eli couldn’t deny the sex had been awesome, and that wasn’t because it had been way too long since he’d gotten physical with a guy.
What worried him was the possibility that he might be reading too much into one shared night.
He tried to ignore such thoughts as he smiled, bagged up pastries and rolls, and chatted with locals who were growing more familiar with each passing day.
He recognized more and more faces, the memories flooding back.
The locals who were becoming used to seeing him too, judging by the comments and questions. More than once, he caught Noah’s name, and some of the customers didn’t bother to hide their grins.
“Help me bring in the trays,” Aileen murmured when there was a lull in the cavalcade of tourists demanding cinnamon rolls the size of small planets. She tugged him into the back, but once they were out of sight of the customers, she rounded on him.
“What is going on with you? What happened last night? Did you get struck by romantic lightning or something?”
“You’ve had your summary. Didn’t it tell you everything you wanted to know?”
Aileen rolled her eyes. “Hardly. Okay, so you didn’t come right out and say it, but it doesn’t take a mind reader to know you slept with him.
” She had a grin like a shark. “And it’s clearly addled your senses.
Your head has been all over the place this morning.
” Her eyes glittered. “He must really be something in bed.”
He nearly knocked a tray off the counter. “Aileen!”
“What?” She swatted his arm. “I’m not judging, I’m celebrating.”
“It’s not—it wasn’t—just—” He sank onto a stool. “It was more than that. And I don’t want to screw this up.”
Aileen said nothing but went over to the coffee machine and poured them both a mug. She slid his toward him. “You won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because,” she said, leaning her hip against the counter, “you like him. You really like him. And because you’re already worrying about messing it up.”
He rubbed his hands over his face. “What if he thinks that’s all last night was? What if I’m reading—?”
“Eli.” She nudged his shoulder. “He invited you over during a snowstorm. That’s not casual, not in Mapleford.”
He laughed weakly, then sobered.
“You were in the shop this morning. You heard them. Everyone’s talking,” he said quietly. “People were asking me where Noah was, as if they expected him to be joined to me at the hip. What if all this attention makes him panic?”
Aileen shook her head. “Noah Carter doesn’t panic when people look at him. He only panics when he cares.” She peered at him. “And you know that, don’t you?”
He couldn’t deny it.
Aileen sipped her coffee. “Do you want more with him?”
Eli’s voice cracked on the answer. “Yes.”
“Then tell him,” she said simply. “He deserves to know he’s not the only one falling.”
He almost choked on his sip of coffee. “I—wait—he—?”
“Oh, please.” Aileen rolled her eyes. “You should see how he watches you. It’s embarrassing.”
Eli buried his face in his hands, his cheeks burning.
“Yeah,” she said softly, rubbing his back. “You’re a goner.”
“Aileen!” Sam called out from the shop, a note of desperation in his voice.
“And we’ll both be goners if we don’t feed the horde of locusts out there.
” She set down her mug and picked up a tray of rolls.
As she headed for the door, she gave him a warm smile.
“Save your mental cogitation for when we get a moment to breathe. Then you can go help him with whatever he has planned for today.” She kissed his cheek.
“It’ll work out, Eli. Just let things take their course. ”
But which way are we headed?