Chapter 12
Noah
The walk back to the Maple Grove Inn from the restaurant felt more like a perp walk to the county jail rather than a walk through a picturesque vacation lake town to our penthouse suite.
I knew when taking Rosa out to dinner that they’d follow us for the photo op.
Even still, I’d forgotten how good it felt to have one on one conversations with Rosa.
It’d been a while. Ever since she’d graduated and started her practice, I didn’t see her much.
It didn’t help that Hazel had taken the job in New Jersey with Reid.
There just wasn’t a lot of opportunity left to sit across from her, drink wine, eat good food and laugh as the candlelight flickered, catching the gold flecks in her molten eyes.
Though the reporters mostly respected our space during dinner, now they were right on our heels as we walked, snapping photos and shouting out the occasional question.
“Noah, what’s it like to be off the market officially?”
“Who’s the girl on your arm?”
“Will she be taking your last name?”
“Did you two have a long, secret engagement or was your marriage a whim?”
I slid my arm around her, shifting her to my other side so that she was away from the road. I could have put my arm around her without any skin to skin contact.
But I didn’t. Instead, I let my thumb slip beneath the hem of her shirt so the rough pad of my hand was connecting to her silken smooth hip.
My heart hammered against my rib cage.
God, I’d forgotten how good it felt to take care of someone. To protect someone I cared about.
I stared at her. Stared at her in the same way that someone would stare at the moon or wish upon a star.
She was my wish upon the star.
With my gaze, I traced the long straight cut of her cheekbones. Her plump lips and full web of black lashes. Dark pools of chestnut brown eyes stared back at me, our steps falling into sync with one another’s.
“Noah! Are you going to tell us the name of your beautiful, blushing bride that you can’t take your eyes off of?”
Blushing bride.
The statement pulled me out of the moment.
And even if for all of five seconds, Rosa had been looking at me, blushing, now those scarlet cheeks had nothing to do with our chemistry. Our connection. Our friendship.
And it had everything to do with panic, fear, and nerves.
Even though the walk was barely ten minutes, it felt like a lifetime. We finally made it up to the hotel room and as soon as we were in a private space, Rosa exhaled long and dramatically, before falling onto the couch.
“I’m sorry this is so traumatic for you,” I said.
“It’s not your fault.”
“It sort of is. I’m the reason they’re out there. I’m the reason they won’t leave us alone. If you had drunkenly married any other dude, they wouldn’t have noticed or cared… no offense.”
Even though the thought of her marrying anyone else but me sent a blood-searing rage tumbling through my system.
Her mouth twisted into an adorable little side smile.
“None taken, trust me. But this whole situation is just as much my fault. And it was technically my idea. It may have been both of our faults that we’d gotten into this mess, but I had no one to thank but myself for the fact that we’re still in it. ”
Mess.
Her mess was my fantasy.
I’d dreamed for years about what a night spent with Rosa would look like. Only, I couldn’t remember last night… and tonight, we were going to be in separate beds.
Rosa stirred up something deep in my heart.
She always had. Something that I didn’t think could exist for me.
I’d seen what love looked like when my oldest brother, Cam, married his first wife Hannah.
And I’d seen it again when he met Lydia—even if Lydia had been not my favorite person initially.
I promised my brother I’d try to get over that and I will.
Try.
But that was a hell of a lot easier said than done. Especially since she was the reason it got leaked to the press that I had missed Hannah’s funeral. Granted, she’d explained it wasn’t exactly her fault and she’d apologized profusely multiple times over.
But still. Even though I’d forgiven her, I hadn’t quite forgotten.
I caught Rosa’s scent as she pulled a small orange out of her bag and started peeling it.
I couldn’t help but smile as she took a bite of her favorite snack despite the fact that we’d just finished dinner.
I imagined the sweet taste of oranges on her lips if I kissed her, thinking of how I would pin her naked body to the bed as I kissed my way down her neck.
“Noah?”
“Hm?”
Dammit. I really needed to get my imagination under control. When I brought my attention back to Rosa, she was staring back at me, curiously. As though, she was studying my expression, trying to read into my deepest thoughts.
“Are we making a horrible mistake doing this?” Rosa’s soft voice sounded suddenly fragile in a way I’d never heard from her before.
“I can’t really answer that for you. All I can say is that for me, no this isn’t a mistake. Being married to you, even fake married, could never be a mistake.”
She blinked slowly, looking up at me.
Holy hell, she was beautiful.
And sweet.
And smart.
And sitting so, so close to me.
I wanted to taste her—just one taste.
Unable to keep away from her, I leaned in, lifting my hand to scoop a curled, black tendril of hair away from her temple. I fully expected her to flinch, or pull away.
But she didn’t.
In a move that was so uncharacteristic of Rosa, she did the opposite and tilted her head, nuzzling into my hand, before blinking those large, dark eyes up at me.
“You really mean that, don’t you?” she asked. “That being married to me couldn’t be a mistake.”
“Of course.”
Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips in a quick swipe.
Jesus. I was teetering on a dangerous ledge here with her. I wanted so badly to claim those lips. My wife’s lips.
But I also knew I shouldn’t. Not when Rosa was this vulnerable. And not if I was in this for the long game—to win Rosa’s heart. A kiss tonight would feel so, so good. But she’d end up regretting it. And maybe resenting me tomorrow.
So, as the scent of oranges surrounded me, her eyes fluttered closed and as she parted her lips, tilting them up to me in an offering. I leaned forward and gently kissed only her forehead. “Good night, Rosa.”
Her eyes fluttered open and she pulled back, blinking up at me for a split second. Her momentary confusion receded into a soft smile and two pink splotches heated her cheeks.
“Oh. Um. Yeah… good-goodnight.” Ducking her gaze, she stood quickly and dropped the orange peels into the garbage. Then she haphazardly tried to gather her things to push them into the bedroom.
Shit. I’d embarrassed her.
“Rosa,” I called, stopping her just as she crossed the threshold into the bedroom. She paused, spinning slowly over her shoulder to look at me, one hand still resting on her rolling suitcase.
“It can’t be me,” I said.
Her brows slanted and she tilted her head in confusion. “What can’t be you?”
“I can’t be the one to kiss you,” I clarified. “You know where I stand. I’ve been asking you out for years. I want to kiss you. You know that. At any minute of any given day, I want to kiss you. So if we’re going to kiss… it can’t be me. Initiating it. It has to be you.”
She was silent for a long breath before she gave a single nod. “Noted.” Then, she disappeared into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
The following day, I woke up early the next morning, rolling out of the pull-out couch bed. As quietly as I could, I slid the bed back into the couch’s frame and placed the cushions back on. Then, I slipped into the bathroom and changed into gym clothes.
As much as I wanted her to, I didn’t think Rosa called her parents last night. It was silent behind that closed door after my awkward declaration that if she wanted to kiss, she had to initiate it.
Why the hell did I say that? It was a stupid whim of trying to be chivalrous. And now, I had no choice but to stick to it. Even if she clearly wants me to kiss her… like she did last night.
I left through the back freight elevator like I always did when I wanted to avoid being seen by people and started my five mile run.
Normally, I hated running. In a city like New York, running outside was a pain in the ass.
You were always spotted by people who recognized you and who were snapping terrible photos of you.
Add to that, it was constantly stop and go with the stoplights, foot traffic, and crosswalks.
Running in Central Park was pretty decent, but nothing like running the trails here in Maple Grove with a view of the clearest, most beautiful lake on the entire east coast.
I shaved a full three minutes off of my running time, finishing the five miles in 34 minutes.
Sweaty as hell, I slipped into the back of the Maple Grove Inn and punched the button on the freight elevator for the top floor just as my phone rang.
I pulled it out of my shorts pocket and found a Facetime from Kristen. She was quite easily the last person I wanted to talk to, but I couldn’t avoid her forever. I had texted her last night that Rosa and I were going to be staying happily married…
Then I promptly turned my phone off.
Guess it was time to face the music.
But maybe first I could at least take a shower and have a cup of coffee.
As the elevator doors slid open, I hit the red button with an x on it on my phone screen.
“Ignoring me, I see.”
I nearly jumped out of my fucking running shorts as I almost walked right into Kristen, standing outside my hotel room.
“Uhhh… hey, Kristen,” I said as casually as I could. “I just got done with my run. I was just going to call you back after my shower.”
One dark eyebrow arched just the slightest. Foregoing her usual bun, instead her hair fell in a sleek, straight sheet of silver down to her shoulders. “Oh, really? Funny. I’ve heard that—or some semblance of that—before. Only to be ghosted by you.”
Goddammit.