Chapter 14
“What do you think?” Noah asks, his voice raspy and deep, the fork held between us.
“She doesn’t disappoint,” I say still breathing in the nearness of him.
He eases back only slightly. “There’s only one more bite. It’s all yours if you’d like it.”
Since I’m so pent up, and eating off his fork was a bit too sexy, I shake my head. “All yours.”
Noah takes the last bite and then shifts a glance toward the refrigerator. “I did notice you still had your brownie.”
That sexy smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth forms, and that warmth inside of me stirs.
“I do still have it. Would you like that too?” I ask.
His eyes search my face, and I wonder what he’s looking for. “Would it surprise you if I told you I’ve never had an edible?”
“Why should that surprise me? I don’t know you.”
“Okay, well, I’ve never had an edible,” he says and we both laugh.
I take the plate and fork from him and walk to the trash can, dumping it in. “You’re a city boy, how did you avoid that? I mean, you have mobile pot shops on the street in New York.”
He nods. “We do. Let’s just say when I’m in New York, I’m hiding in my apartment.”
There is a seriousness to his tone.
“Why?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I’m more comfortable there than dealing with people.”
“You seem to deal with them just fine, from what I’ve seen. Except for Katie,” I say, holding up my finger. “You two seem to have some kind of history.”
His lips purse. “I’m not easy to deal with when people make demands of where I’m supposed to be, and they throw in that quip about how I’m supposed to act.”
“She’s much too young to be your mother,” I say.
“Doesn’t keep her from trying.”
The space between us isn’t enough for me to not feel the energy that resonates off of him. Seriously, there is something about him that makes me want to reach for him.
“Why would she have to rein you in?” I ask.
Noah pushes his hands up into his hair. “You’ve dealt with me on different occasions,” he says, a brow risen so he doesn’t have to even mention our emails from my aunt’s store.
“Maybe you do need an edible,” I tease, and I hope it comes across in such a way.
“Share it with me?” he says, and now I wonder if I look like Mary Lou clutching at my pearls.
“You’ve never had one?” I confirm.
“Never.”
“Pot? Have you smoked pot?”
“Twice in college,” he says. “I was more a competitive drinker.”
I snort a laugh. “One doesn’t just eat the whole brownie on the first time.”
“Why?”
“It’ll fuck you up,” I say, now fully laughing. “A few bites, but you’d have to get an Uber or walk back to the hotel.”
“I don’t think I’ll want to walk after a few bites.”
“You can take it with you,” I offer.
“I don’t want to partake alone.”
I look at my watch. “It’s nine-forty-five. Seriously, it’ll be at least midnight before I know how it affects you.”
“Can you drive after midnight?” he asks.
“It’s not so strange for me to spend the night here. I sometimes have to if it snows too much and I can’t get home.”
“Then I’ll spend the night here, too.”
My body chooses this moment to have that fucking hot flash I’d only alluded to earlier. This is my opportunity to walk to the refrigerator and pull it open. Though, I’m going to look like an idiot standing here as long as I need to, just to cool down.
I can feel his eyes on me.
Pulling the brownie off the shelf, I turn and hand it to him. Closing the door I press my back up against it.
“She doesn’t usually make them too strong, but if you don’t know how you’ll react, I wouldn’t take more than three bites.”
Noah pulls back the wrapping and holds it to his lips. “You’re okay with doing this? I’m not keeping you from anything or anyone?”
Why does my chest squeeze when he says it like that? “No.”
“You can do whatever work you want. I won’t get in your way.”
“If this is what you want to do, I’m fine. But, when you’re buzzing around, that is if you’re not one of those people who just falls asleep, you have to dust shelves.”
“Promise,” he says with a smile.
“And this can’t be every day. I’ll never get any work done if we’re high all the time.”
“It’s Colorado isn’t?—”
I hold up a finger in warning. “Don’t go there.”
His eyes smile now as he takes his first bite of the brownie. I watch as he chews slowly. “The couple times I did this in college, I remember it hitting fast.”
“This will take at least an hour for you to feel.”
“I guess I could start walking back to my room,” he says as if that’s a disappointing option.
“I agreed to this,” I say, holding out my hand to take the brownie and my bite.
“Have you ever had a slumber party in a book store?” he asks.
“Does inventory night count?” I say and it amuses me so much I nearly spit out my bite, but now he watches me as I thoughtfully chew, then hand the brownie back to him.
“Is it stupid that I have this superhero feeling?” he asks.
“It did not affect you that fast,” I laugh.
“No, the anticipation. Like Peter Parker after the spider bites him. Or, fuck,” he pauses, “why can’t I think of another superhero?”
This is just laughter from being tired, but as he takes his next bite, he covers his mouth and continues to laugh.
Noah hands me the brownie and I take my bite. “The Flash getting struck by lightning?”
“Is that what happened to him?”
“That and getting doused with the right mix of chemicals in his lab.”
“Right. The lab. People really need to be more careful when they’re in the lab ,” he says.
“True. Look at Bruce Banner.”
“I already have that angry gene,” he admits.
That has me nearly snorting out a laugh and spitting out my brownie.
“Do you feel as if you’ve been shot with that serum they gave to Captain America?” I ask.
He narrows a look on me, as if he’s studying me. “I’ve never known a woman who knows so much about superheroes.”
“I’m a bookstore owner. I read all the books.”
“Thank you to the bookstore owners who read my books, and to their employees who think I’m a hottie, even if I’m old enough to be their father."
Another wave of laughter hits us.
We each take one more bite, leaving only a sliver of the brownie left. I take it and throw it in the trash.
“You prove to me that you’re a good boy on three bites, and we can discuss asking Agnes for more later,” I tease.
“Only I get to call her Agnes,” he says playfully.
“Cuz, you’re her good boy.”
His eyes go dark as he looks at me, and that warmth surges through me again. “Oh, I’m a very good boy,” he says.
Yep, we’re about to be fucked up.