Chapter 11 Maya
MAYA
I wasn’t fragile. God knew I’d been through worse. But right now, my body felt like it had been wrung out and tossed to dry on barbed wire.
Strangely, with Noah supporting me, the pain felt contained, as if his arms had drawn a line the hurt couldn’t cross.
But once the worst had passed, reality found room.
Napoleon hadn’t recognized me. I was sure of it. And despite his mention of Bridger Canyon, I didn’t think Annamaria had sent him for the necklace either. He’d left me for dead, and that move must’ve come from panic—and from him being pissed about his phone.
His spiel about Bitterroot Valley becoming the next wedding hotspot wasn’t exactly wrong either. Sheryn had gone all-in on Buffaloberry Hill from the moment we arrived. She said it felt like the kind of town where love might actually stick. Her fiancé, being a local, just sealed it.
So why had he said Bridger Canyon? It wasn’t just to rhyme with Beverly Hills for some poetic punchline.
But then again, there were plenty of wealthy folks out that way who might be tying the knot.
The Lazy Moose was a hidden gem, but if Claire and Elia had already started promoting it, then maybe it wasn’t so hidden anymore.
Everything suggested Napoleon hadn’t been here for me, or the necklace.
And my gut said Annamaria hadn’t found out about my second heist. The necklace hadn’t been locked away like before.
It was tucked inside a box in her closet, buried under silk scarves that had started to yellow, and forgotten like a souvenir from a game she no longer cared to play.
Annamaria attended a lot of high-profile events.
If that necklace had mattered, she wouldn’t have put it there.
No. I convinced myself. Nobody knew anything.
That conviction somehow manifested into me holding Noah tighter.
“You okay?” Noah muttered.
I looked at him, dazed. Relief and exhaustion battled for dominance. His face blurred in and out of focus, but his hold was solid. Safe.
We made it to his truck faster than I’d expected.
“I’ll deal with your car later,” he said, already reaching for the passenger-side handle.
I was on my feet now, no longer leaning on him. Wobbly, sure. But standing.
“You know what?” I said, clearing my throat. “I think I’m good. I’ll leave you to it. I can drive myself back.”
I turned, already walking toward my car.
He didn’t dignify that with a reply. He just moved fast. I managed maybe five hobbled steps while he took two. And suddenly, he was behind me.
Then I was airborne, scooped up like a stubborn raccoon he’d apparently decided was now his responsibility.
“Noah!”
“You almost died,” he said, his eyes fierce—angry almost. “Which part of that hasn’t landed yet?”
I wriggled in his arms. To hell with the pain. I wasn’t exactly trying to escape, but trying to save face. “Cut me some slack, okay?”
“You’re coming with me.”
“Noah—”
He stopped at the truck door, his gaze pinning me. “You’re not in charge here.”
“Neither are you!”
“You’re in my arms.”
That shut me up.
I was in his arms. And dammit, it felt right.
He opened the door and set me down with a touch that walked the line between gentle and unyielding, like he wasn’t sure whether to cradle me or shake some sense into me.
“I hate how good you are at this,” I muttered.
He gave me the faintest smirk. “Yeah, well. I hate that I had to be.”
He shut the door with a clipped motion, his hand lingering on the handle.
Then he rounded the truck, and we drove.
A few minutes in, his hand drifted across the cab, his fingers brushing mine like I was that rescued raccoon who might bite. I caught it anyway.
“There was someone else with you,” he said, squeezing my palm. “Who was it?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “Can we just leave it?”
“No.” His voice was rough. “You nearly went over a cliff, Maya. I’m not letting this go. Who was he?”
“Napoleon.”
He made a noise, half disbelief, half fury. “Don’t joke.”
“I’m not. He said his name was Napoleon. Claimed he was scouting wedding venues.”
Noah’s grip tightened on the wheel. “What did he do?”
“I helped him, and I slipped. He was pulling too hard. Then he just…left me.”
His tone dropped to something lethal. “He’ll never get near you again. I swear it.”
“Don’t go full sheriff on me.”
“I’m not the sheriff,” he muttered. “But we’re going to him. After I take care of your strain.”
“No!”
He jerked slightly, startled. “You knew that man, Napoleon?”
“No, but—” I swallowed. “I don’t want to ruin Sheryn’s wedding. Not over this.”
He didn’t answer right away. He just stared out the windshield, his knuckles white.
“Noah,” I tried. “He was just a moron. Didn’t think things through. It’s over.”
“I’ll be watching,” he said quietly, still staring straight ahead. “If he shows up again, one step too close, I’ll go to the sheriff. I mean it.”
I didn’t argue.
“He’s probably already on a plane back to Beverly Hills, thinking he got away with it,” I mumbled.
The rest of the ride stretched out in silence, the kind that wasn’t angry but still pulsed with everything unspoken. Every few minutes, he glanced over like he needed to confirm I was still breathing.
And even though I didn’t say it, I felt it.
Noah Lucas had just saved my life.
When he pulled into the motel parking lot, Noah cut the engine but didn’t move right away. Instead, he turned slightly toward me.
“I’m sorry if I came across as pushy,” he said.
“You did.” I didn’t sugarcoat it.
He nodded like he expected that. “I’ve lost someone before.
” He paused, his eyes flicking toward mine.
“And I’ll be damned if I’m going to lose you.
I know there’s nothing between us…or…hell, we were just supposed to have lunch.
” He exhaled hard. “But even if you were just my lunch date, I am not losing you. Not to some bastard on a cliff.”
I stared at him. The intensity in his eyes could’ve leveled a lie before it even left my mouth.
“Understood,” I said.
“Thank you,” he murmured. He leaned back in his seat, and for a second, the tension bled from his shoulders.
Then I turned to him and met his gaze. “And in return, I need you to understand something too.”
He stilled.
“No sheriff. No report. No digging. No questions. Or I promise you, Noah, you’ll lose me anyway.”
A muscle ticked beneath his cheekbone, his thoughts running behind his eyes faster than words could catch.
But he didn’t try to reason or press.
“Okay,” he said at last.
A vow he didn’t like but would keep for me.
Noah helped me into the motel room. I headed straight for the shower, not looking back, because if I did, I might’ve tripped over the fact that he was just outside the door.
Steam filled the bathroom as I peeled off my clothes. Everything ached—my ribs, my back, even muscles I didn’t know I had. But beneath the soreness was something else entirely. A rush of heat simmering under my skin, knowing he was a wall away.
I checked the damage. No bruises on my face. A nasty one on my left side, but the dress would cover that. And a few shallow cuts, nothing dramatic. I could still pull off the bridesmaid glam. Small miracle, really.
When I stepped out in fresh clothes, my hair towel-dried and limbs heavy, Noah was waiting with a first aid kit open on the table.
“God,” I said, eyeing the contents. “What don’t you have in there? Are you secretly MacGyver?”
“I always keep it in the glovebox,” he replied, crouching beside me calmly.
He scooped up some arnica gel.
“This might be cold,” he murmured, his eyes flicking to mine for permission.
I braced myself.
The gel touched my side, cool and gentle, but his fingers? Warm. Focused. The kind of touch that lit a trail through my ribs. My body flinched, not from pain, but something else entirely. Something dangerously close to want.
I forced a smirk through the tightness in my chest. “I guess I’m lucky. Sheryn would’ve killed me if I showed up black and blue tomorrow.”
“I happen to know your dress covers this nasty one,” he said, tapping the edge of the bruise.
I let out a dramatic sigh. “So helpful.”
“What about the rest? Think makeup’ll cover it?”
“I can work some magic,” I said. I wasn’t Sheryn-level, but I could fake my way close enough.
Just then, he pressed a little too hard.
“Ah!” I hissed, flinching.
“Sorry! Too much?”
I should’ve said yes. Instead, I let out a breath and shook my head. “No. It’s good. Really.” I looked at him. “How’d you learn this?”
“I used to play hockey in Utah. The team physio taught me stuff.”
“Taught you? Or was he just showing off moves while twisting you into a pretzel?” I didn’t buy the casual answer. Because damn, whatever Noah was doing felt ridiculously good.
“Taught me.”
“Huh. Must’ve been a quiet season for the team. Guy had time to run a massage school on the side?”
“Well…” He shrugged, and a slow smile bloomed. “I owned half of the club. He was obligated to do what I asked.”
My eyebrows rose. “You owned the club? As in, the Utah team? NHL and all?”
He nodded, and I stared past him to the parking lot, where his truck sat quiet and unassuming. It was a GMC that had seen a few years.
It didn’t add up. But I liked that it didn’t. I liked that he could’ve arrived in something flashy, but didn’t. That he didn’t feel the need to explain or prove a thing.
He wrapped the gel in gauze and taped it off with steady hands, hands that lingered just a second too long. Or maybe I imagined it.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
He looked up then. And for a beat, we just…looked, heat thick in the air, neither of us moving. One shift, one breath too deep, might tip us into something we couldn’t undo.
But he didn’t make a move. And neither did I.
Still, every inch of me remembered where his fingers had been.
And I wasn’t sure that was something makeup could hide.
He stood up. “You’ll be okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Thank you. And please…don’t tell anybody.”
He didn’t hesitate. “I promise.”
He pushed open the door, about to step out, when he added, “Have fun tomorrow.”
“Oh geez. The dance…”
Turning up to the wedding, doing my bridesmaid duties? Fine.
But waltzing with Richard?
Noah tilted his head. “Whoever your partner is, he’d better not pull a Reverse Corte on you.”
I snapped my head up. “Noah, stay my partner. Please?”
His mouth opened, then shut again.
I gripped his sleeve. “Please.”
A slow grin spread across his face. “I thought you would’ve already begged Sheryn to switch me in.”
I smacked his arm. Solid muscle. He didn’t even budge.
“Please,” I groaned, fully prepared to grovel.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets, stretching the moment out. Boy, he was enjoying this. “Well, you do what you have to do. Convince your friend. If you need me, I’ll be there.”
I nearly hugged him like he was my pillow, my teddy bear. Nearly. But I had to hold onto some dignity.
Instead, I sighed, stepping back toward my motel door. “Goodnight, cowboy.”
“Goodnight, Blue Storm.”
I blinked. “Blue Storm? My eyes are hazel.”
A faint smirk cracked through. “Who said it was about your eyes? Blue dress and a protest that could stir a damn tornado.”
Of course. Blue. That was where it all started.
A laugh slipped out, breathless, a little raw, and embarrassingly fond.
I slipped inside, shutting the door behind me and bouncing onto the mattress.
One more day.
Then I’d be gone.
But a knock shattered my newly started peace.
I sat up fast, scanning the room for a weapon. The only thing I had was the bedside lamp. I snatched it up, creeping to the door.
“Hey, it’s me,” Noah said.
I huffed, setting the lamp down and yanking the door open.
“Did you forget something?” I asked.
Noah rubbed the back of his neck, looking suddenly puppy-eyed. “Just wanted to let you know I’m staying next door.”
My brows shot up. “Noah! I’ll be fine.”
“No.” His voice was calm, resolute. “I can’t take a chance.”
I crossed my arms. “What, you’re gonna stay up all night and guard me?”
“If I must.”
This man was impossible. And yet…I enjoyed it.
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, whatever. Goodnight.”
Inside, I kicked off my shoes and slid under the covers.
Oh, sheesh. My side might’ve been just bruised, but it felt like I’d done a thousand sit-ups. Tomorrow was going to be fun, squeezed into a tight satin dress, pretending I wasn’t one breath away from wincing.
I sank deeper into the mattress. Maybe I was already relying on Noah too much. Maybe I shouldn’t assume he’d step in if I needed him to.
But I did trust him that much.
A soft knock sounded against the wall behind me.
I giggled to myself, then knocked back twice.
Two knocks came in return.
I did it again. And he answered.
I smiled, settling deeper under the blankets. And somehow, despite everything, I fell asleep to the steady rhythm of him on the other side of the wall.