Chapter 14 Noah
NOAH
I rolled my shoulders, adjusting my tie. The suit was a holdover from my media career, but it would do. More than that, it had to be good enough for Maya.
I checked my watch. An hour until the ceremony. Enough time to run through the checklist in my head. Don’t step on her dress, don’t trip, and for the love of everything, don’t hold her too close. That last one? Easier said than done.
I wanted to hold her close. I hadn’t forgotten what had happened to her yesterday.
That bastard—Napoleon or whoever the hell he really was—had made one cardinal mistake. He scared my girl. But it didn’t stop there. He’d made an even greater sin when he left her for dead.
I was honoring Maya’s request. No sheriff. No questions. But that didn’t mean I’d stopped thinking about what I’d do when I saw him again.
And still, it wasn’t just about what happened. It was about her.
That storm was real. It wasn’t just attitude. It wasn’t about me walking in while she was changing, or her insisting on driving off alone after nearly dying. No, this storm had history. Layers.
It would be so easy to press her, to demand answers. But I’d promised her that we’d drop it. Maya deserved this day. Sheryn, too. No dark clouds, no tension in the air. Just a perfect wedding in a small town that didn’t see enough perfect days.
So, for now, I’d let it rest.
Before I could settle into the thought, a familiar weight landed on my shoulder.
“Well, well,” Elia drawled. “Look who’s moving up in the world. From farmhand to wedding party in under a week.”
I sighed. “Just helping out.”
Elia smirked. “Sure. And I heard Richard, her original partner, was pretty disappointed.”
“He’ll live,” I muttered.
“You know? This might not be your last time playing honorary date to a bridesmaid. We’ve had more wedding enquiries come through for the Lazy Moose.”
I almost asked if one of them was from Napoleon. But with the wedding minutes away, it wasn’t the time to stir up trouble or break my promise to Maya.
Claire appeared, all smiles, and before I could stop her, she was adjusting my boutonnière. “You look so handsome!”
“I always look like this,” I said dryly.
“Huh.” Elia slung an arm around my shoulder. “Nah. You look lucky, little brother.”
I shook my head. “Can you just be happy for me for once?”
“Says the guy who does everything in his power to stay in the background,” Elia teased, but there was something else in his tone. Something I wasn’t sure I wanted to unpack.
Eventually, they left me alone with those knowing looks and quiet smiles, as if they were rooting for something I hadn’t even admitted out loud.
I gave my suit one last tug, smoothed my jacket, and headed toward the ceremony tent.
And there she was.
Maya.
My Blue Storm.
This should’ve been the moment I paused, took stock, and measured the risks like I always did before stepping into something I couldn’t control.
But I didn’t.
I’d spent most of my life choosing the easy road. The calm, predictable one. The kind of woman who never made a mess of my heart. Someone I could leave before they ever thought to leave me.
But the calm had never made me feel alive.
Not like her.
Maya wasn’t simple. She wasn’t quiet. She wasn’t built for anyone’s idea of a safe choice. She was the jolt, the storm that never came with a warning.
And maybe that’s why I couldn’t look away.
I used to walk away when the bolt didn’t fit. I never carved the groove, never tried to make it work. I’d disappear before things got hard, before anyone saw through me. Before it could hurt.
But now? Now I wanted the burn. I wanted the chaos. I wanted the woman who left dents and cracked rules. The woman who made me believe in the kind of wild I’d never let myself want.
I wanted to know what it felt like to be caught in her wind, drenched in her rain, and rattled by her thunder.
And somewhere in all that noise, my heart said yes.