Chapter 29
Colton
“What in the fuck is this?” I mutter, slowing on my way to the sandwich shop.
Noah’s truck is idling beside the curb.
I approach slowly, and the passenger side door opens. “Get in,” comes Noah’s voice.
I peek inside the cab, finding the man waiting for me with an arched eyebrow. “Are you…abducting me?”
“There’s a roast beef panini on the seat,” Noah says in lieu of explanation. He lets off the brake long enough for the truck to squeak an inch forward. “And technically, you kidnapped me first. In or out, Colt.”
He rolls another inch down the street, and I hop into the vehicle, shutting the door after me. “This is coercion,” I point out.
“I’m not above a little bribery if it gets me what I want,” Noah says, pulling immediately into the lot behind the businesses on this stretch.
I look over at him as he parks. “Quite the ride.”
“Eat your sandwich, Colt,” Noah says, looking—and sounding—smug. He grabs his own lunch off his lap, peeling back his sandwich wrapper before taking a large bite.
With a grumble, I open up my roast beef panini, groaning at the first mouthful of warm gooey deliciousness. “Fuck, that’s good. Don’t tell Ash, but Louise makes the best paninis. It’s the commercial press.”
Noah hums.
“Ash is a damn fine cook, though. We lucked out getting him at the ranch.”
I take another blissful bite. Damn . That’s delicious.
“And look,” I say, keeping my mouth mostly closed as I talk, “I’m not gonna thank you for kidnapping me, but this sandwich is my favorite, so—”
My words cut off when Noah takes my chin in hand, forcibly directing my face his way. He presses his mouth against mine, licking over my closed lips, and I about bite my tongue.
Leaning back, he looks me in the eyes, his more than a little wild. “Fuck, Colt. You moan the same way eating that sandwich as you do when I fuck you.”
“Beg your fucking pardon?” I rasp.
“Is it really that good?”
Noah makes a grab for it, and I pull the sandwich out of reach.
“Maybe you’re just that average,” I shoot back.
He smirks at me. Smirks . “That’s not it. Gimme a bite.”
“Fuck you,” I bark, curling my body to block the last half of the lunch Noah is trying to steal. Never mind the fact that he got it for me in the first place. One does not steal another man’s panini.
“Colt,” he says in warning.
“No-ah,” I warn right back.
His hand lands on my thigh. I freeze as he rather pointedly runs his palm toward my cock. The next second, Noah is snatching the sandwich out of my grip and ripping off a bite with his teeth. I stare at him in shock.
“That was fucking dirty!”
“Mm,” he hums with a grin. “Very good.”
I swipe my sandwich back. “You absolute dick. Hate you.”
He chuckles, a sound that does not go to my cock. “I’ll buy you another one.”
I wait for him to exit the vehicle and follow through on that promise, but he doesn’t move. He goes back to eating his own lunch as I glare at him.
“And when, precisely, would that be?” I ask, finishing off my much smaller sandwich.
He shrugs. “Maybe tomorrow. If you’re lucky.”
I gape at him. “If I’m lucky ?”
His smile is disarming. One minute, the man is teasing me, albeit good-naturedly. And the next, he’s looking at me like…like he’d be the lucky one to buy me lunch again tomorrow.
I clear my throat. “Does that mean you’re gonna kidnap me again?”
“You could always come easily.”
“Usually do around you,” I mutter.
Noah barks a laugh, apparently having heard me. “Colt, if you think you’ve been easy , you need to readjust your system of measures. You are the most infuriatingly stubborn man—”
“Am not .”
He raises an eyebrow. “Stubborn man I’ve ever met. And pulling you in has been the exact opposite of easy .”
I squirm as he holds my eye, confused by the wash of disappointment I feel at those words. What? Like I care if Noah thinks I’m too…difficult?
“Colt,” the man says, tone far gentler than I would’ve thought him capable of in the past. He seems to read what’s on my mind, because his hand clasps my neck, and he squeezes tight. “I never asked for easy. I don’t need it. But if you ever get tired of fighting, it won’t change anything. All right?”
He waits as if there’s a simple response to that. As if Noah telling me I can be any version of myself around him is a simple fucking thing.
“Come here,” he says, not waiting for me to move, simply tugging me in by the back of my neck.
His lips meet mine again, less forceful this time but no less terrifying. There’s a stutter in my chest I’m starting to worry is permanent around this man, and Noah only makes it worse when he rumbles low in his throat like I’m the best thing he’s ever had the honor of sampling.
When he pulls back, I feel exposed. The same way I did the first time I stripped down in front of him.
“You’re having dinner with me and Walter tonight,” he says, crumpling our trash into a cohabitating ball.
My indignation wars with…I don’t even know what. “Oh, I am, am I?”
He doesn’t seem to mind my snarky tone. His lips twitch up, and he answers with a concise, “Mhm.”
“And what if I don’t want to?” I ask, my throat clicking when I swallow.
“I could always drag you there myself,” he says, eyes glimmering with a hopeful edge.
“Do you like reminding me you’re bigger than me?” I ask, even though I’ve come to realize that’s not it at all.
“No,” he says simply. “What I like is when you let me prove just how much I want you. And how far I’ll go to have you.”
Fuck .
It takes me a second to get my mouth in working order. “Why? Why do you?”
I can’t bring myself to say the words want me , but Noah clearly understands. He shifts toward me in a way that causes his horseshoe tattoo to flash before his shirt settles. The reminder of all that’s stood between us feels like only a whisper of what it once was.
“Do you want an honest answer to that?” he asks.
Jesus, do I?
I look out the windshield for a moment, my heart beating swiftly. Soon enough, I’ll leave this truck and get back to work, shaping hooves and shoes to be an equal match. Doing the things I do every day. What follows is the difference.
Before, going back home to the ranch was a given. Spending my evening around my family, heading to bed alone, barring the occasional instance of me finding a woman to keep me company for the night.
I was drifting along my comfortable path, not questioning all I was and all I wanted, even as I knew something was missing from my life. Or, maybe not missing , exactly. But I did want companionship that lasted longer than an evening, didn’t I? I wanted to find what my brother found with Ash.
Someone to care about me: smooth, jagged parts, and all. Someone to love me.
And now, I have…Noah. I have a man who’s telling me he wants me around. Who, for some inexplicable reason, went from frowning at me every time I was near to smiling like he can’t get enough of me. Me .
I’m terrified of what that means. Because how can this man be the one I was looking for? How is that possible when he’s been under my nose this entire time?
And I simply didn’t see him.
So do I want to know why it is that Noah wants me when I don’t feel remotely worthy of that interest? What have I possibly done other than be cruel and undeserving?
“I don’t know,” I finally admit. Because if he only likes the thrill… If I’m simply a conquest to him…
I’m not sure I could stand it.
Noah doesn’t let me travel down that depressing train of thought for long. “When you’re ready,” he says, voice calm, “you lemme know.”
I nod, the motion feeling jerky. “Am I free now?” I ask, trying to make the words sound light.
“Your kidnapping is over,” he confirms. “Just…one thing before you go?”
“What’s that?” I ask cautiously.
“Show me again.”
A bolt of lust shoots straight down my gut, even as I shake my head. “No fucking way! Look where we are.”
Noah makes a point of glancing around. The parking lot has plenty of vehicles, but no one is walking past at the moment. “Looks fine to me.”
“Anyone could catch us.”
“Would that bother you?” he asks, seeming curious about my answer.
“Yes,” I say too quickly, too harshly. “I don’t need people seeing my ass , Noah.”
“And is that the only part that would bother you?” he persists, scooting closer.
My pulse hops.
“I won’t let anyone see,” he promises, his scent—overlaid with the work we both do—crossing my mental barriers and clouding my brain. Making me think of the last time that scent was surrounding me.
It’s the only explanation I have for why I shift around enough for Noah to have access to my right hip. He rumbles his approval, tugging down my jeans, his other hand pulling my shirt out of the way.
I feel like a rabbit—fragile, heart pounding—as Noah’s fingers trail over my skin. Mapping out his name.
I was pissed all to hell when I got that tattoo. Pissed at Noah for winning. Pissed about my obsession with the man. Pissed, even, at all the emotions I couldn’t name when it came to this King I thought I hated. I did hate him. For a long while.
But I still got his name tattooed on my ass. It was a point of pride. Of not wanting Noah to see me as weak for backing out.
I don’t feel weak now. Even rabbits have a powerful purpose, don’t they?
They nourish the wolf.
Noah’s fingers dance over me reverently, his soft sound of satisfaction and wonder making me feel like the most powerful being alive.
“Are you done stroking me?” I ask when my cock starts getting interested in the proceedings.
Noah huffs a small laugh, his fingertips skating over me once more before he tugs my pants back into place and lets go of my shirt. “I’d be happy to stroke you again later.”
“Not sure your uncle would appreciate that,” I note.
He snorts. “Consider it a private dessert. For just you and me.”
I swallow roughly. “I needa go.”
“Mhm. See you tonight at six-thirty.”
I get out of Noah’s truck and head to my own on the other side of the lot, not even bothering to tell him we’ll see about that .
“Oh, God,” I groan to myself, walking the short path up to Noah’s front door. His door . “What am I doing? What is this? Why am I even here?”
“Hopefully to have dinner,” Noah says, nearly startling me out of my skin.
“ Fuck . Don’t sneak up on people, King!”
“I was standing here the entire time,” he says calmly, holding the door open wide. “Wasn’t sure if you were going to get out of your truck.”
“Yeah, well… Can you blame me for being… confused about all this?”
He closes the door once I pass, a thoughtful expression on his face. “No, I suppose not.”
I thrust the bottle of wine I brought at him before tugging off my boots. “I think I figured it out.”
“What’s that?” he asks, motioning me toward the kitchen. I can smell savory herbs and what I desperately hope is pot roast simmering away inside the room.
“This,” I repeat, motioning between us and then encompassing the entirety of his house and my existence. “I fell off Clementine. I fell and hit my head, and all of this is just a dream.”
“A good one, I hope,” Noah says, setting down the wine before sidling up close and placing his hands on the outsides of my hips. Like that’s normal . Him and me.
“Fuck,” I mutter, keeping my voice down, even though I don’t see Walter anywhere. “Don’t you think this is weird, Noah? You’re being all…polite and shit. And I’m…”
“Spiraling?” he supplies, tucking his face against my neck and unerringly finding the spot that makes my knees want to give out. He sucks on it, and I do wobble, just a bit.
“I’m not spiraling ,” I hiss. “ Christ . Say something mean. Please . Please assure me I’m awake right now ’cause I honestly don’t think I can—”
Noah’s grip slips up into my hair, and he tugs my head back hard enough to shock me into silence. “Later,” he says, voice low and full of promise, “I’m going to find out how much of my cock can fit inside your throat, little Colt. I’m gonna fuck your mouth, wait for the tears to slide down your cheeks, and only then will I give you mercy. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To worship at my feet?”
“ Jesus ,” I groan. “That wasn’t mean. That was…”
My “ungh” has Noah’s hand flexing in my hair. He leans closer, lips at my ear. “Beautiful Colt. How could you possibly think you’re not mine?”
With that, Noah’s fingers skim through my hair before he lets me go. He steps over to a pot on the stove as I waver for a moment, feeling as if my world has gone hazy.
“Do you like carrots?” he asks.
“What?” I nearly squeak. He can’t possibly know about the… carrot incident, right?
Noah looks at me over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. “Carrots?” he repeats, holding up a ladle, which has a stout, chopped carrot sitting next to a large piece of potato.
“Oh,” I breathe, shaking myself loose. “Yeah, I like ’em. Is that pot roast?”
“Sure is,” he says, that satisfied smirk back on his face, as if he knows how much I love it. As if he could.
“The best pot roast,” Noah’s uncle says, walking into the room. His gait is slow, but he seems to manage just fine with his walker. “Recipe was his dad’s.”
“He’d hunt,” Noah fills in for me, pulling plates from the cupboard. “When he could, he’d make the dish with venison. Sometimes elk meat. This one’s beef.”
“Is that why you have antlers on your arm?” I ask.
“It is,” Noah says, pouring glasses of wine. “Have a seat. Dinner’s ready.”
I sit down in the chair Walter pushes out for me. “Good to see you again, Colton,” the man says.
“You, too, sir,” I answer, even as it feels surreal to be sitting in this kitchen. In this house. With these men. “Thank you for having me.”
“Oh, you’re certainly welcome anytime you’d like,” Walter says, humming happily when Noah sets a steaming plate of pot roast in front of him. “Isn’t that right, Noah?”
Noah’s gaze meets mine, the man setting a plate in front of me, too. “That’s right,” he says, no artifice in his tone, no hint of tease or anything at all but complete and utter honesty. “Anytime.”
I let out a breath as Noah takes his seat beside me. For the first time in a very long time, I eat dinner with someone—two someones—who aren’t family. One of whom I could have sworn was evil incarnate.
He’s not, it turns out. Not even close.
Either that or the devil managed to get me under his thrall, after all. Because I can not, for the life of me, find anything at all to hate about this moment.