Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Josy
If it weren’t for the fact that there’s no one else available to remodel the space for my coffee shop, I would have never found myself in this fucked up situation.
How dare he think he can just waltz in here and offer me charity?
Who does he think he is? As if I’m some damsel in distress waiting for him to swoop in like a knight in shining armor. That’s not how things work, not for me.
My hands are trembling as I slam the folder shut.
The nerve of him to think he can just do this for me out of the goodness of his heart.
I don’t need anyone’s help—least of all his.
I’ve been handling my life just fine, and I’m not about to let Noah swoop in and make me feel like I can’t manage on my own.
He’s always had this way of getting under my skin, making me feel things I’ve tried so hard to bury. And now, here he is, acting like he’s doing me some grand favor. I don’t want his pity. I want to stand on my own two feet without feeling like I owe him anything.
But here I am, stuck in this situation with no one else to turn to. I need this renovation done, and I need it done right. If it weren’t for that, I’d tell him to take his charity and shove it.
Taking a deep breath, I try to calm down.
I’ll pay for his work, and I’ll stay out of his way.
That’s the only way I can keep my sanity intact.
Now that I think about it, since he’s the one who’ll be doing the work, I won’t have to see him that often.
It’s not like he’s going to drive all this way just to have lunch at this coffee shop.
I guess I’ll have a reprieve from seeing him every day, which is a relief.
The one thing that does ease my mind is knowing that since Noah will personally work on the shop, it’s going to be top-notch. Whatever else I might feel about him, I can’t deny that he’s damn good at what he does. So maybe this won’t be as terrible as I’m making it out to be.
For the past couple of weeks, Noah has been keeping me updated on the shop’s progress through pictures, which I appreciate, but they only tell part of the story. Today is Saturday, and I can’t resist seeing it all for myself.
When I pull up to the shop, the first thing I notice is the music blaring from inside.
An old-school rock anthem that instantly takes me back to our teenage years.
The door is slightly ajar, and the scent of sawdust and fresh paint drifts out, pulling me in.
My heart races, but I tell myself it’s just the excitement of seeing the renovations. It has nothing to do with him.
Stepping inside, I follow the music and the rhythmic clatter of tools. It doesn’t take long to find him. In the bathroom, Noah is crouched over a line of freshly laid tiles, shirtless and focused, his back turned to me.
The sight stops me in my tracks. His muscles ripple with every movement, his skin glistening under the soft glow of the overhead light.
My mouth goes dry as my gaze roams over his broad shoulders, his tapered waist, and the way his black pants sit just right on his hips.
I didn’t know backs could be this distracting.
Heat creeps up my neck as a dangerous thought flashes through my mind: I want to lick every bead of sweat off that man.
I should leave before he notices me, but my feet are rooted to the floor and my eyes betray me, drinking him in like I’ve been wandering in a desert.
He turn in my direction and looks up suddenly, his sharp brown eyes locking onto mine. For a second, he freezes, and I wonder if he’s as startled as I am. Then his lips curl into a grin that sends a jolt straight to my chest.
“Josy,” he says, his voice tinged with surprise and amusement. “You scared the hell out of me.”
I manage a shrug, aiming for casual even though my insides are in chaos. “Just checking to make sure you’re not slacking off.”
His grin widens as he grabs his phone from his pocket and silences the music. “No slacking here. You know me, I always deliver.”
I should say something witty, but my eyes betray me again, flicking back to his chest. He catches me, of course, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in that maddeningly cocky way.
“Like what you see?”
Heat floods my face, and I roll my eyes in a desperate attempt to deflect. “Please. Put a shirt on before you give someone a heart attack.”
“That’s not what it looks like from here.” He stands, grabbing a rag to wipe his hands, the movement making every muscle in his torso flex. “It looks like you were enjoying the view.”
He laughs when I don’t respond, the deep sound vibrating through me. “You sure you want me to cover up? You might miss all this.” He motions towards his beautifully muscular torso.
“Yes, Noah. Now.” I cross my arms, but my voice lacks the authority I was going for.
With a mock salute, he reaches for his shirt, pulling it on deliberately slow. The smirk on his face tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“There. Better?”
“Much,” I lie, even though part of me hates that he listened.
He steps closer, the air between us charged. “You look beautiful today.” His tone is suddenly softer.
“Really?” The unexpected compliment catches me off guard.
His brows knit, as if confused by my reaction. “Yeah. You’ve always been beautiful, Josy. I guess I should’ve said it sooner.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I push the conversation back to safer ground. “How’s the progress?”
He doesn’t press, his easy smile returning. “Ahead of schedule. Come on, I’ll show you.”
We walk through the shop, and I take in the transformation. The kitchen is nearly complete, the walls freshly painted, and I can finally see my vision coming to life. Noah’s done an incredible job, as always.
“Thanks,” I say, my voice quieter than I intended.
He shrugs, his smirk teasing but his eyes holding something deeper. “Anytime, Josy.”
I step back, needing distance before my traitorous body gives me away completely. “I’ll let you get back to work,” I say, retreating toward the door.
He leans against the counter, his gaze following me. “Feel free to drop by anytime.”
I glance back, trying to summon some semblance of composure. “I might,” I manage before turning and walking out, my pulse hammering in my ears.
But just as I turn, my foot catches on an extension cord. It all happens in slow motion. I’m about to faceplant on the dirty floor and I brace myself with my hands, ready for impact, but it never comes. Instead, I feel strong hands grab me by the waist and yank me back upright.
“Shit,” I yelp, startled by Noah’s quick reflexes.
Now, I’m standing straight with my back pressed firmly against Noah’s chest. His warmth envelops me, and I’m certain I feel him lean down, his face close to my neck as if he’s smelling me.
I freeze, unsure of what to do. If I move, he’ll let me go but I don’t want him to.
I want to stay right here, wrapped in his strong arms.
My breath quickens as I feel his warm breath against my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
Slowly, Noah nuzzles his nose against the curve my neck, and I instinctively tilt my head to the side, giving him more access.
I don’t know what’s happening, but I can’t move.
I don’t want to move. I like this too much, and I don’t want to ruin it with words.
My heart races, pounding so loudly I’m sure he can hear it.
Noah’s hands tighten around my waist, pulling me even closer to him.
Suddenly, his right hand leaves my body, and I instantly miss the contact.
But before I can lament the loss, he gently brushes my curls away from my neck.
The next thing I feel is his tongue, hot and wet, trailing slowly along the curve of my neck.
A rush of heat pools between my legs, and I feel an undeniable wave of desire crash over me. Noah’s mouth moves up to my ear where he nips at my earlobe, and I can’t help but let out a low, involuntary moan at the sensation.
The world around us fades away, leaving just the two of us in this charged, breathless moment.
I’m acutely aware of the hard length of him pressed against my back, sending a thrill of heat through my body.
Feeling brave, I turn my head slightly to the right, needing to see his eyes.
Our breathing is erratic and when my gaze meets his brown eyes, I’m completely lost in them.
There’s a raw intensity there, something I’ve never seen before, and it stirs something deep within me.
Noah leans down slowly, never breaking eye contact. Our breaths mingle, and the anticipation is almost too much to bear. I can’t help it, I close the distance between us, and our lips finally touch.
The kiss is soft at first, his lips warm and plush against mine, and I’m instantly lost to the sensation.
Noah turns me around so we are face to face and my eyes flutter shut as I melt into him, savoring the feel of being in Noah’s arms. It’s tender and sweet, a kiss that reaches deep into my soul, filling a void I hadn’t realized was there.
After all this time, after all the unspoken words and stolen glances, I’m finally experiencing a kiss with the man that I have never been able to stop thinking about.
Noah’s hand moves to cup my face, his touch gentle as he draws me even closer. The warmth of his palm against my skin sends a shiver down my spine. When his tongue brushes against my bottom lip, asking for permission, I part my lips without hesitation, allowing him in.
What starts as slow and tender quickly turns hard and erotic.
The kiss deepens, and I feel an overwhelming rush of passion and need.
Our tongues dance together in a heated, intoxicating rhythm that leaves me breathless.
Noah’s hands roam my body, pulling me closer, and I respond in kind, my fingers threading through his hair, anchoring myself to him.
The world outside ceases to exist. There’s only Noah, his taste, his scent, the feel of him against me. The kiss grows more desperate, more urgent, and I give in to the hunger that’s been simmering between us for so long.
I’m lost in the sensation, in the way Noah makes me feel. It’s as if every touch, every movement is imprinted on my soul. There’s no going back now, no pretending this doesn’t mean anything. Because this kiss—this moment—it means everything.