Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Nellie
I’d really wanted to sleep with Noah in his bed, so naturally I decided the best place to be was anywhere but in his bed. I chose the guestroom furthest away from his, hoping the distance would provide me with some clarity after our intense coupling.
It did not. I tossed and turned all night, thinking about how close he was. Just down the hall. Zero clarity was achieved.
My body ached in the best way. I felt deeply satisfied and yet, I craved more.
Noah had done everything right; he had made his interest in me apparent, but he respected that I was teetering still, and hadn’t pressured me once. He’d let me call the shots, and even when I begged him, he’d made sure it was what I truly wanted.
Afterwards, he’d drawn a warm bath and climbed in with me, then washed my hair and my aching body with such tenderness, I’d almost wept. The intimacy of it was staggering, and I didn’t exactly know what to do with all of it.
But Noah hadn’t so much as pouted with disappointment when I’d told him I thought it’d be better if I slept in one of the guestrooms. He’d given me a cozy pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a T-shirt of his to sleep in, and made sure I had everything I needed to be comfortable.
And I was comfortable. The bed I was in felt like a cloud, and the woodstove kept the entire cabin cozy and warm.
But I knew, even though I’d never spent the full night in Noah’s arms, that sleeping beside him would have been a thousand times more comfortable.
There was something about him that put me at ease, and I couldn’t figure out why.
On paper, Noah was a player who hadn’t had a serious relationship in almost a decade, much like me. I shouldn’t have found that as reassuring as I did, but I somehow knew he was safe.
I knew he was home.
And those were dangerous thoughts to have this early on. Sure, I might be pregnant with his baby—maybe—but that didn’t mean I could trust that everything would all work out like magic. Even if our chemistry was off-the-charts hot.
I didn’t fall asleep until nearly two o’clock in the morning, and I awoke around ten to the scent of bacon and coffee. My stomach growled as if it’d been weeks since my last meal.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand beside me, and I reached for it noticing I had several missed text messages from Sage as I unplugged it from the charger.
Sage: The blizzard is getting out of hand. Text me when you get back to Hartwood Creek!
Sage: Tabitha said you didn’t come home last night! Are you okay?! You’re not in a ditch somewhere, right?
Sage: Okay, now I’m really getting worried. TEXT ME BACK!
Sage: …HELLO?!
I’d been so distracted by being in Noah’s space and spending time with him, that I’d completely forgotten to text or call Sage last night. My phone had died at some point after my appointment and before I’d gone to bed, and I’d plugged it in to charge overnight.
Before I could finish texting out a reply, my phone rang with an incoming FaceTime—Sage’s name and photo popping up.
I answered it, and Sage’s worried face filled the screen. “Oh good, you’re alive.” She eyed me with suspicion.
“Hey, sorry. My phone died and I’m waking up now,” I answered, feeling guilty for making her worry.
“Where are you? That’s not your room.” Sage leaned in closer, as if she could figure out where I was by taking in all the details.
“Yeah, I crashed at Noah’s last night. The blizzard hit when we were driving home, and we decided it’d be better to get to his place instead of trying to make it all the way to town.”
“Makes sense.” Sage leaned back, appeased by my answer. Her eyes sparked with delight, and she smiled. “So, you spent the night with Noah, huh?”
“In his guestroom,” I corrected, frowning.
“Foolish girl. Should have jumped his bones. You’re delaying the inevitable,” Sage predicted, and I rolled my eyes at her dramatics.
I mean—she was right, I had been delaying the inevitable by trying to resist my attraction to Noah, but I wasn’t about to admit that.
“The inevitable already happened.”
“What do you mean?” Sage asked.
“I mean, I did jump his bones last night. I slept in the guestroom after.”
Sage shook her head. “It’s both amusing and concerning that you think sleeping with someone is more intimate than having sex.”
“Because it is,” I insisted. I’d been the queen of casual for so long, and spending the night sleeping beside someone—having their arms around you—that was the opposite of casual.
Then again, so was having a baby with someone. This entire situation with Noah was as far from casual as it could get, and I don’t know why I was even bothering to try to cling to the semblance of casual.
“Whatever,” I said, fighting a yawn. I was too tired to analyze my behaviour. “Is it still snowing?”
“Yup, and it’s supposed to snow all day,” Sage answered. She smiled, as if pleased. “Looks like you’re snowed in with Noah for at least the rest of the day.”
“And?”
“And that means you’ll probably have to have an actual conversation—”
“We have been having conversations,” I interrupted, whispering so that Noah wouldn’t overhear me. “Lots of conversations, actually. He’s great, really understanding of everything. I don’t know why I’m still trying to fight it; I already know I’m screwed.”
“Well, you will be.” Sage giggled.
I sent her an unimpressed look. “I mean I’m dangerously close to feelings, if not already there.”
“That’s not a bad thing, Nell,” Sage said gently. “Anyway, how did the appointment go?”
She must have been able to read the expression on my face, and how I wanted—no, needed—to change the subject.
“It went well. Everything looks okay. Booked the anatomy ultrasound for a couple weeks from now, and we did the DNA test. We should get the results for that in a couple weeks, too.”
“That’s exciting.” Sage’s eyes were shining with elation. “Are you going to find out the gender?”
“Haven’t decided yet.” I shrugged.
“We’ll probably find out if the baby cooperates. Nix wants to know, and it’s his first baby and all,” Sage said.
“I can’t remember, did you find out for Daphne?”
“Yeah, I did. Everything was so uncertain, I needed to find out as much as I could about everything I could to feel a little more prepared.” Sage smiled wistfully. “This time, I could wait until the baby is born before finding out, but I want to do whatever Nix wants.”
“Makes sense.” I got the impression Noah would do whatever I wanted.
“So,” Sage started, biting her lower lip as if she was holding in an awkward question.
“Spit it out.” I sighed.
“Is it going to matter what the DNA results say?” she asked softly.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “He says it doesn’t matter, but I want to make sure he has the answer before he commits to that decision.”
“Will it matter to you, though?” Sage clarified her question.
I was taken back to last night, and the look in Noah’s eyes when he said: Regardless of what that test says, I consider that baby mine, as much as I consider you mine.
“No, it wouldn’t matter,” I said lowly, keeping my voice at a near-whisper.
If Noah wasn’t biologically the father, but still wanted to be a part of our lives, I would let him. I was scared that if the DNA results proved he wasn’t the biological father, that it would change his desire to be a part of this. I knew I was clinging to that fear, but I didn’t know how not to.
“Well, if it doesn’t matter, I think you have to let go of that fear that’s holding you back,” Sage said wisely. “I know, it’s easier said than done, but stop hiding behind walls and let him in. He wants to be there, Nell. It’s obvious.”
“I know, you’re right,” I whispered, thinking about all the ways Noah had proved that over the last few weeks.
After getting off the phone with Sage, I put on my bra and followed my nose to the kitchen. Noah was setting two plates down on the island. They were overflowing with eggs, bacon, and toast.
“Morning, I was just about to wake you. I hope you’re hungry,” he said, smiling as he took me in. I
’d washed my makeup off the night before and had done my best to run my fingers through my hair to comb some of the tangles out. I by no means felt beautiful, but Noah looked at me like I was.
“I could eat,” I said, trying to ignore everything I was feeling. It was confusing, conflicting. I expected to feel vulnerable, that the intimacy level of being with him without my mask in place—my makeup, my clothes—would send me wanting to run.
But I didn’t feel all that vulnerable. Somehow, I felt almost at ease. I was aware of his eyes on me, aware of his every move, aware of the sexual tension sparking between us, but I didn’t want to run.
“God, you’re a fucking vision, Nell.” Noah shook his head, as if trying to clear it. “Seeing you in my clothes; it does something to me.” His voice had deepened, his gaze smouldering, making his need apparent.
“Oh stop,” I flushed, pulling out a chair at the island and sitting in front of one of the plates.
“Coffee? I, uh, unfortunately don’t have any tea.” He scratched at the back of his neck, looking sheepish.
“It’s okay, I’m still trying to limit my caffeine intake,” I answered.
“Orange juice it is,” Noah said with a nod, turning around to grab a glass from the cupboard. He filled it with juice from the refrigerator and set it beside my plate, then grabbed his cup of coffee and walked over to sit beside me. “How’d you sleep last night?”
“Good,” I lied, not wanting to admit I tossed and turned all night thinking about him. About how he’d felt moving inside me. It was very difficult not to think about that, especially when I was staring right at the place it happened.
“I’m glad to hear that. I slept like shit. Kept thinking about how close you were, yet how far away.” He winked, picking up his fork and scooping some eggs up.
I hid my smile behind a glass of juice. I glanced out the sliding door and nearly choked on the juice. I coughed, and Noah patted my back to help.
“Looks like we got even more snow than they called for,” I said when I could finally speak again. The snow was piled almost halfway up the glass of the sliding door, and heavy, fat snowflakes were still coming down. Sage was right, I was snowed in with Noah still.
“Yeah, we got about twenty-five centimetres last night. I’ll need to head out and do some shoveling after breakfast.”
“I can help,” I offered. Noah shot me a look. “What, I’m pregnant, not incapable.”
“You’re definitely not incapable, but you are pregnant, Nell. And I don’t want you overexerting yourself when I can handle it.”
“I don’t mind helping,” I tried again. “Besides, you didn’t mind me ‘overexerting’ myself last night,” I reminded him, using air quotes to accentuate my point.
Noah’s eyes sparkled. “That’s a totally different type of exerting yourself, and since I plan on a repeat, I’d rather you rest inside and stay all warm and cozy. Plenty of time to exert yourself later.” He winked.
I tried to argue a little, but Noah wasn’t having it. We ate our breakfast, me in a reflective silence and Noah stealing glances at me, trying to hide his smiles.
After breakfast, I tidied up the kitchen while Noah geared up and went outside to shovel and snowblow his driveway.
I hadn’t been a fan of him ordering me to stay inside and rest, even if I was secretly thrilled that he cared enough to, well, care for me, so I had to even the score by cleaning the kitchen.
Not that there was much to clean. Noah was an unusually tidy person. Within five minutes, the dishwasher was running, and the frying pans he’d used were air drying in the dish rack on the counter by his sink.
I’d wiped down the countertop until it sparkled, and with nothing else to do, I wandered around Noah’s cabin, taking it all in.
It was beautiful, if not a little sterile.
He didn’t seem to have many knickknacks on the shelves or artwork on the walls.
It was almost as if he’d recently moved in and hadn’t truly had time to decorate, or perhaps it hadn’t occurred to him to do so.
I wandered up the stairs to the loft. Noah had a huge TV on the one wall, and a sectional couch across from it.
Underneath the TV was a shelving unit full of DVDs.
Noah had a major DVD collection, mostly thriller and action movies, of course.
I took my time perusing titles, but none really called to me.
What did call to me was the feeling of being at home at last.