Chapter 22
Half naked, I run into the house and pull two of the oversized pillows off of the couch, as well as a worn quilt that my grandmother made years ago. Deciding that isn’t something I want to get dirty, I throw it back on the couch and run to my bedroom for my comforter instead.
When I return to the patio, Noah is refilling our wine glasses.
“You have a tattoo on your back,” I say, noticing its outline, but unable to make out what it says.
Noah stiffens. “I do.”
I drop the pillows and the comforter on the ground and move to him, before he turns back.
Running my fingers over his skin, moving him so I catch the moonlight, and I stiffen too.
Abby in a heart with her birth and death dates on it.
“It’s a beautiful tribute,” I say, running my fingers over it.
“It’s a buzz kill when you’re trying to impress a half-naked woman.”
I move so that I’m standing in front of him. “Reasons to date older women, part two,” I begin as I reach for my glass of wine and take a long sip, “we understand that other women came before us.”
Noah reaches for his glass and smiles from behind it. “Some women understand that.”
“You had something not many people get to have. I understand that.”
“You do?”
“I do. I’m envious of it,” I admit.
“Jealous of my career. Envious of my relationships. What else are you hiding?”
I shove him gently in the shoulder and he captures my hand.
I swallow. “I’m trying very hard to be mature about all of this. I know that it’s fast and we’re old enough to handle it. I also know you live thousands of miles away, so this is temporary.”
Even in the dark I can see disappointment flash in his eyes.
“It doesn’t have to be,” he says.
“I’m not going to stake more than the next two weeks on it.” I wrap my arms around his neck, holding tightly to my wine glass so that it doesn’t pour down his back. “I might seem like a jealous person, but I’m not petty.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
“Have you had lots of women see that tattoo?”
His lips flatten. “A few.”
“Did it bother them?”
“Maybe.”
I tighten my arms around him and his hand comes to the bare skin at my waist. “I’m not bothered by it. She was a lucky woman. And in this moment, I am too.”
There is a beat before he kisses me again. A beat of understanding. A beat of hesitation. I don’t know why we lingered there, but now it’s just us and the wall of stars.
He moves us to the small couch on the patio, setting our drinks on the cafe table next to it. Old cushions give under us as he sits, and pulls me down to him, straddling him.
Noah’s hands move up my back, holding me in place. My hands are on his stubbled cheeks, and my lips work against his.
“You’re okay with this?” he says, traveling his lips down my throat to my chest where he peppers my covered breasts with kisses.
“I am,” I say, refusing the urge to be sassy about it and saying something like I invited you didn’t I?
There is a groan that escapes him as he moves his hands to my hips and grinds me against him. I watch his face contort the urges rising in him.
Noah lifts his fingers to the clasp on my bra and releases the fabric that separates us.
“Fuck,” he growls out the word as my bra drops between us, and he scoops up my breasts in his hands. “I was wrong,” he says and I press my hands to his shoulders to study him again. “I can’t do this here.”
Noah stands from the couch, me still wrapped around him.
“What are you doing?” I feel the rush of anxiety surge through me.
I’m enveloped in the arms of some man I don’t really know, who writes about horrific murders, and I’m half naked clinging to him.
The edge of the deck is a mere foot away, and he could easily deposit me over the edge and no one would hear me cry from the depths of the rocks and trees below.
“I don’t want to do this on your deck. I want to take my time with you,” he says carrying me back into the house. “I want to make love with you, not just crazed sex in the dark.”
I know when I shift my weight back to look at him, the weight transfer adjusts, and a moment later I find my back pressed to a cold wall so he can keep me upright.
“You’re not going to murder me in the dark?”
Noah blinks hard. “Why would you say something like that?”
To his credit, he hasn’t let go of me and dropped me on my ass yet. “You still want me?”
“Fuck, Emma. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Drama,” I admit. “Don’t hold it against me.”
He smiles from the corner of his mouth. “I plan to hold myself against you all night long, if you’ll still have me.”
“Down the hall to the right,” I say as Noah readjusts me and I hold on tightly. As we lift from the wall, I stop him again. “Go back,” I say, and he takes a few wobbly steps backward.
I reach out to collect the condom box from the counter. “Okay, now.”
Noah chuckles. “This was easier in my thirties,” he says as we start down the hallway.
“You’re not commenting on my weight are you? I mean, you are the one that picked me up.”
“Shhh,” he says as we get to my room. “I want us to enjoy every moment of this night. And no, it wasn’t a comment on you at all,” he admits and I wonder if that was more a comment on his abilities.
Noah lays me on the bed and I let the box of condoms fall from my hand. I take in the moment of him looking down at me. I want to remember it, because in the end, this is all I will have of him someday—and that’s okay.
“You’re beautiful, Emma. So beautiful.”
There is a twinge in the back of my throat—tears. Fuck no. I’m not going to cry now.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
“I want to please you,” he says as he begins to pull my unbuttoned slacks from my legs. “I want to touch you. Taste you.”
There is a strangled noise that escapes me and I nod.
Noah moves back to my mouth and kisses me.
“Relax. Let me love you tonight. I promise it’ll be a night you’ll never forget.”