Chapter 6
" I 'm stepping out," I tell Rosalee, grabbing my jacket. "Won't be long."
She looks up from where she's braiding Jelena's hair, concern etching her features. "Everything okay?"
"Fine." I shrug into my jacket, avoiding her gaze.
"You've been wired since yesterday." She ties off Jelena's braid with a pink ribbon, her movements deliberate. "Ever since you got back from the tree farm."
I watch Jelena giggle as Rosa tickles her sides, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach. My whole world is in this room. Almost everything.
"You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?" Rosa's voice is soft, worried. The way it always gets when she thinks I'm keeping things from her.
"Course," I say, but we both know it's a lie. There are some things I can't share. Not yet. Not until I figure them out myself.
The drive to find Noel takes longer than expected. The Barkley property stretches for miles, and I have to stop twice to check my phone where I've saved her address from a quick internet search. Being assistant principal of Bear Ridge High makes her easy to find. When I finally turn onto the lakefront road, I almost miss her place—a small but elegant house set back from the water, windows glowing warm yellow against the darkness. Her car is in the drive, which means she's ignoring my messages, not missing them.
I kill the engine but sit there for a moment, taking in the unfamiliar setting. The house seems to suit her—independent, away from her father's shadow, but still beautiful. Still Noel. Through the windows, I can see her silhouette moving past, and my chest tightens. Finally, I get out, gravel crunching under my boots as I approach her door. Before I can knock, it swings open.
"I saw your headlights," she says by way of greeting. She's wearing yoga pants and an oversized sweater, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. Beautiful. Always so damn beautiful.
"Can we talk?"
She hesitates, then steps back, letting me in. The house is pure Noel—warm, inviting, filled with books and soft throws and carefully chosen art. Not the formal family photos I remember from the main house, but pieces that speak to who she's become.
"Does having a daughter make that big of a difference?" I ask, turning to face her. No point in dancing around it. "If I walked away from you because I found out you had a child, women would be enraged. But when you do it, it's okay?"
Her eyes flash. "That's not fair."
"Isn't it?"
"No," she crosses her arms. "Because that's not why I pulled back. I pulled back because you lied to me."
"I never lied."
"You held back the truth. Same thing."
I step closer, close enough to see the pulse jumping in her throat. "Maybe I held back because I didn't want you to reject me. Maybe I was scared you'd walk away." My voice drops lower. "But I hope that's not the case, because I can't walk away again, Noel. I did that for ten years, and it was ten years too long."
"Trace—"
"Let me finish." I reach for her hand, relief flooding through me when she doesn't pull away. "I should have told you about Jelena right away. Should have explained everything. But I was scared. Scared that if I told you I was a package deal now, you'd decide it was too much. That I was too much."
She looks down at our joined hands. "You don't get to decide that for me. You don't get to filter what parts of your life I'm ready for."
"I know." I lift her chin with my free hand, making her meet my eyes. "Will you accept me, even with a child? Even knowing I come with responsibilities that most men don't have?"
Her eyes narrow. "Are you testing me?"
"Yes." The word comes out rough, honest. "It's not right. It's not fair. But I need to know what kind of woman I have. If you're my lady, are you with me no matter what?"
"Am I your lady?" Her voice is soft, uncertain. "Is that what I am?"
I stare at her, wondering how she could doubt it. "I came back to Bear Ridge for you, sunshine. Everything else—the business, the contracts—that was just a way in. A way back to you."
"There's still so much I don't know about you." She pulls away, pacing the room. "What other secrets are you keeping? What else haven't you told me?"
"It doesn't matter." I catch her arm, stopping her mid-stride. "I want you to want me no matter what, because that's how I feel about you. Nothing could make me walk away again. Nothing." I cup her face in my hands. "So I'm asking you again—will you be my lady? No matter what? I've done terrible things, Noel. I'm not the boy who left. I'm not a goody two-shoes like Lowe. But I am the man who loves you, now and always have. Will you accept that? Accept me?"
She stares up at me, her eyes searching mine. The moment stretches, taut as a wire, until finally—
"Yes."
The word has barely left her lips before I'm kissing her, pouring ten years of longing into it. She melts against me, her fingers clutching my shirt, pulling me closer. I back her up against the wall, deepening the kiss until she moans.
When I finally let her catch her breath, she whispers, "We still need to talk—"
"Later," I growl, sweeping her up into my arms. She lets out a small gasp of surprise, but her arms go around my neck, trusting. Always trusting, even after everything.
"Which way to the bedroom, sunshine?"
Her answer is another kiss, one that steals my breath and my sanity. I carry her down the hall, nearly losing my mind when she begins trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck. Her teeth graze my pulse point and my grip tightens reflexively.
The bedroom is ahead, moonlight spilling through gauzy curtains. I set her down, but she immediately presses against me, her body molding to mine in all the right places. When her hands slip under my shirt, nails scratching lightly across my abs, I growl low in my throat.
"I've missed you," she gasps as I back her toward the bed. "Every inch of you."
I strip off my shirt, watching her eyes darken with desire as she runs her hands over my chest, my shoulders, mapping changes time has made. When she leans forward to press her lips to my collarbone, I shudder.
"You're driving me crazy, sunshine."
Her sweater joins my shirt on the floor. The sight of her bare skin in the moonlight nearly brings me to my knees. She's different now—softer curves, fuller breasts—but still perfect. Still mine. When I lower my mouth to taste her skin, she arches against me with a moan that shatters my control.
Our remaining clothes disappear in a desperate rush. Every touch is electric, every kiss an inferno. She gasps my name as I worship her body, reminding her with lips and hands and tongue how much I've missed her, needed her, loved her.
When we finally come together, it's with an intensity that borders on religious experience. Her nails rake down my back as I move within her, our bodies remembering this dance like we've never been apart. She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper, and I think I might die from the pleasure of it.
"Look at me," I demand, needing to see her eyes. When she does, the love I see there nearly undoes me. "You're mine."
"Yours," she agrees, then cries out as I show her exactly what that means.
Later, our bodies cooling in the moonlight, she traces the new scars on my chest while I play with her hair. Everything feels different now. Deeper. Like we've forged something unbreakable in that fierce joining of bodies and souls.
"Tell me everything," she whispers against my skin. "I want to know all of you."
I pull her closer, knowing the peace of this moment can't last. There are still secrets to reveal, still truths that might drive her away. But for now, I just hold her, memorizing the way she fits perfectly in my arms, the way her breath fans across my chest, the way everything else seems to fade away until there is only this.
Only us.