Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
MOLLY
I run my fingers across my lips, still feeling the effects of the kiss Noah laid on me. His words and what they must mean swirl in my mind as I try to process what he’d meant by them.
Noah’s whole face had gone soft when he said he was where he was supposed to be.
Then the whole thing about “your granddaughter has my eyes” threw me for a loop.
I don't even have kids! Are we really already talking about grandkids?
If it's my granddaughter with his eyes, that means… I can’t finish the thought.
I puff out a breath as I close my eyes. It was all so sweet and a bit dreamy. It was the kind of kiss that takes your breath away and lights up your whole world. My body fit perfectly against his, and I too got the sense I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
For a brief moment, the weight on my shoulders eased as his lips touched mine. That constant sense of being alone and having to do everything for myself lessened. I know I have this town and Tilly behind me, but she has Paxton and her own life.
I’ve wanted that kind of love for so long, but I’ve been scared to dream about it. I kept pushing it to the back of my mind and moving forward like I always do. It might be time that I simply stop and take account of everything I'm running from. If I stopped running, what would happen?
I change into pajamas and freshen up before I head back out of my bedroom. When I enter the kitchen, I stand there for a moment watching Noah. His back is to me while he cooks, and the smell of garlic bread and pasta fills the space.
“I could get used to this,” I say, and Noah turns at the sound of my voice. “Having dinner ready for me after I get home and settle in.”
“It is nice,” he agrees. We stare at each other for a long moment. “It’s almost done; sit down. Do you want a drink?” He walks over to one of the bags of food he brought with him. “I got red and white.”
“White,” I say as I walk over to the cabinet that has the wine glasses. They're on the top shelf, and I feel Noah come up behind me.
"I’ve got it." He easily plucks two glasses off the top shelf, and I laugh.
"I could get used to that too."
Noah doesn't laugh. In fact, his expression isn't one I've seen before, and I'm not sure what to make of it. Deciding to ignore it, I pour both of us a glass.
"Sit," he orders before nodding to one of the chairs at the table. "Tell me about your day."
I take a sip of the wine and start to talk.
It’s amazing how easy it is to talk to him, and the conversation flows from my work over to the town of Cheerful.
Then I talk about Tilly and her man. While we talk, Noah brings the food over, and we eat side by side.
He mostly listens, but as soon as I start to slow, he asks more questions.
Soon enough my plate is empty and I’m on my second glass of wine. I’m delightfully full as he asks me about having pets.
“I’d love to have a cat,” I say. “They’re adorable, but I worry that I can’t give them the time and attention they need. I couldn’t take them to work with me the way Tilly does. I don’t think people would be okay with the idea of a cat roaming the kitchen.”
“Because of the hair?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“You could get one of those hairless ones,” Noah suggests.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s kind of cold around here.”
“You could get it sweaters.”
Why does my mind jump to Noah holding a hairless cat with a pink Christmas sweater? The image makes me smile.
“Are you trying to figure out a way I can have a cat in my kitchen?” I laugh at the way he’s working to figure it out.
“You seem to really want one.”
Noah stands from the table and starts to grab the dirty dishes. I get mine and follow him to help clean up. I might be able to bake, but Noah can freaking cook. It really is a different talent.
"We can want many things but know we'll never have them," I say.
"What do you mean?" He takes my plate from me before I can make it to the sink. "Let me get this."
"You cooked."
"And you hate to clean."
"How—"
"You told me."
"Right, I haven't shut up, have I?" I’m not sure if this is a date, but I know you have to leave room for the other person to talk.
"I like listening. If you haven't noticed, I'm not a man of many words."
"That is a shocking revelation!" I tease with laughter.
"Yeah." His lips turn up on one side. That might actually be a smile for Noah. "That's why I haven't mentioned what sent you running from the kitchen and that—"
"I didn't run,” I say, cutting him off. “I walked quickly."
I’m not sure I want him to finish that sentence.
He can only be mentioning it for one reason, and I don't think it's a good one. He's going to say he’s sorry for kissing me or some bull crap. This is my first real kiss, and I really don’t want him to apologize for it.
No thanks. I want to completely avoid talking about it.
I might be able to ramble on, but it’s about topics that I deem safe. When the world has tossed you around, leaving bruises, you do your best to try and avoid getting any more.
"All right. Then talk about what sent you walking quickly from the room." He stops cleaning to turn and fully face me. For a man of few words, once his mind is set on a topic, he can’t seem to let it go. “It was—”
A knock sounds loudly at the door, followed by my doorbell chiming twenty million times.
“That’s Tilly,” I blurt out, and I’m grateful for her timing.
I bolt from the kitchen to the front door. It could be wide open and she'd still ring the bell.
"Is that you walking quickly?" I hear Noah shout from behind me. Did he crack a joke?
"I know you're in there!" Tilly shouts as I yank the door open.
"First off, you have a key, and second, it wasn't locked."
"It was locked, and I would rather not catch you with your booty in the air," Tilly responds as she tries to look over my shoulder. It’s relatively easy for her tall ass.
"You did not say that," I hiss at her, my face flushing. I know Tilly’s voice is going to carry back to Noah.
Paxton is standing behind her, and he gives me a small wave. There’s a knowing expression on his face that says there was no stopping Tilly and he wasn’t going to even try.
"So it's true,” Tilly says, wiggling past me to get into the house. "The not-so-Jolly Giant is here."
"I thought it was Lankenstein," I mutter.
"Evening," Noah says, and everyone's attention swings to him.
"So this is the cake-destroyer that’s stalking you?" Tilly asks, but she already knows the answer to her own question.
"I think I like that nickname better than Lankenstein."
"Seriously?" Tilly cocks her head to the side, and her curls bounce around, as wild as she is. "You don't get to pick your nickname. That's not how that works." Noah doesn't respond; he simply stands there. It seems to annoy Tilly further. "Hello?"
"Hi," he responds calmly, and I think he knows exactly what he's doing. I bite back a laugh.
"You're fucking with me, aren't you?" Tilly says.
"I'm just standing here,” Noah says before shrugging.
"Watch it or you'll be lying there,” Tilly threatens even though Noah is easily twice her size. It does not faze her in the least. "I'm scrappy, and he"—she points her thumb over her shoulder—"can fight."
"Oh my god," I laugh.
"Do I smell garlic bread?" Tilly asks out of left field. Well, maybe it's not left field for Tilly. She’s always hungry.
"He made me dinner," I tell her.
"Oh, that's two dinners in a row. Interesting," Tilly says, mulling this new information over. "All right, I think we're good here." Tilly gives Noah a bright smile. "Welcome to Cheerful, but watch your back." She points with two fingers from her eyes to his. "I've got eyes and ears everywhere."
"Sounds like Cheerful’s got a real serial killer," Noah says dryly.
The room goes quiet for a beat before Tilly and I burst into laughter. When Tilly gets her laughter under control, I usher her out the door. When I turn around, Noah is right behind me, and I almost run into him.
"Molly," he says softly, and I tense. This is when the apology comes.
"Don't say you regret the kiss," I blurt out before he can speak.
Noah is silent as he narrows his eyes and slowly takes a step toward me.