18. Bailey
Bailey
Sunlight slipped through the blinds, painting stripes across Noah’s chest. My fingers traced the curve of his shoulder, half-afraid to move and half-afraid to let go. A rogue curl fell across his forehead, and I gently brushed it back, feeling honored that I got to see him so vulnerable.
I shifted carefully, pulling the sheets up around us. The morning light exposed more of me than I was ready for, physically and emotionally. My mind replayed pieces of the night: the way he looked at me, the way he listened.
God, I could get high off the fact that someone listened to me without tearing down a thought or questioning my capabilities.
Then the doubt seeped in, quiet but sharp. Caleb seemed caring at first, too, all in. And he was—on controlling me, twisting my words, and making me wonder if I’d ever be enough.
Noah cracked one eye open and smiled lazily.
“Morning,” he murmured. His hand found mine under the sheets, fingers curling naturally between my own.
“Morning,” I whispered. The word felt strange on my tongue, like the start of something new, but also the end of whatever sense of normalcy we’d had before.
He lifted himself slightly, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I can hear you thinking. Care to share?”
My cheeks warmed. “Last night was amazing. Better than amazing. But it was one night, and I need more than one evening to trust you. To trust myself, really, and to figure out what we could be.”
He leaned down, pressing his forehead to mine. “Then let’s take our time. No pressure or expectations. Just Bailey and Noah.”
“What about your brothers?” I whispered. “The town? My reputation?”
“Let me handle it,” he said. “You trust me with your body, so trust me with this. Being mine means you don’t handle shit alone anymore.”
My stomach flipped at the thought of being his, want tangled with fear. I hadn’t let myself imagine being with someone in so long, I’d forgotten what it felt like to be cared for. Valued.
He curled his arm around my waist, dipping his head between my breasts.
“I love these,” he mumbled, reaching down to grab my ass. “What do you think about a no-clothes policy from now on?”
I burst out laughing. “I think guests might call the cops.”
“Good thing I’m friends with the sheriff,” he muttered.
“No more sheriff talk until we’re clothed and have carbs in us,” I demanded.
“Who knew you ran such a tight ship,” he muttered.
Since Noah made dinner, I insisted on helping with breakfast. There was a French toast recipe I knew by heart, and I had an inkling he would love it.
“Did you drug me?” he asked.
“Did I drug you? Is that a serious question?” I responded.
“Because I’ve never felt euphoria like this before just from a piece of bread,” he said seriously.
“You absolute jerk,” I joked. “You had me genuinely concerned for you. I mean, I still am, but more so your mental well-being at this point.”
“What’s your secret?”
“If you think I’m spilling a decades-old secret on a first date, you must not know me very well,” I teased. “Guess you’ll have to ask me out again,” I sang.
“Yeah,” he said, tugging my kitchen chair closer to his. “I guess I will. Maybe a couple more dates just to be safe.”
“Right,” I whispered. “Just to cover our bases.”
We slowly leaned into each other, and Noah cupped the back of my neck before pulling me in for a kiss, the best kind, in my opinion. The kind that tasted like syrup and felt like easy mornings.
We spent the rest of Saturday in a blissful state of ignorance. The inn? Didn’t exist. Worrying about wanting to fuck my boss? Out of sight, out of mind.
The only thing I currently needed to focus on was identifying how Noah had cheated at Mario Kart, because there was no way I lost six times in a row without cheating being involved.
I humphed, sliding my eyes over toward Noah to see if he heard.
I wriggled around on the couch, letting out another big sigh before dramatically falling back.
“Is there something I can do for you, peaches?” Noah asked.
I perked up. “Funny you should ask. Are you cheating?”
He turned his body toward mine, angling his head and raising his eyebrows. “Am I cheating?”
“Yeah, you know that thing people do to gain unfair advantages?”
“I do know the definition of cheating, but I’m not sure how it applies in this moment.”
I gestured wildly toward the TV with my controller. “There is no way you could have won that many times in a row without some sort of cheating or secret booster that you weren’t telling me about.”
“The secret booster is talent,” he teased.
“Un-fucking-believable,” I muttered. “You knew I was close to winning that last race and still chose to hit me with a shell!”
He scooted closer to me, wrapping his warm scent around me and nuzzling into my hair.
“Do you want me to let you win, Bailey, or do you want me to make you work for it?” he asked, heat lingering in his tone.
I kissed his lips, giving him just a hint of tongue, before hitting start on the next set of races.
“Not a chance in hell,” I said.
“That’s my girl.”
I chose a three-race grand prix, just long enough to get into a groove, but not long enough that Noah could pull away in the points.
I scooted over to the edge of the couch, attempting to distance myself from the tall, dark, and handsome distraction, before selecting my character and kart.
Noah glanced at me, clearly holding back a laugh, before selecting his as well.
“Ready, baby?” he asked.
“Born ready,” I responded.
He hit start, and then I must have blacked out. I faintly remember a couple of “fuck yous” leaving my mouth and tears streaming down Noah’s face as he crossed the finish line—again.
We turned the game off after that. Names were called, taunting started, and I was this close to making Noah’s face a little less pretty.
“Should we move on to Scrabble?” he suggested.
Scrabble was a safe option and a game that I knew I could crush him in. Or at least I thought I could.
“Stripping is cheating, Noah,” I retorted.
“Well, we never clarified the rules before we started, Bailey,” he said, leaning against the couch shirtless, arms behind his head.
If this was how he wanted to act, I could play dirty, too.
I bit my lower lip and crawled toward him on my hands and knees, wearing only his T-shirt.
I hoped my ass peeking out would be just enough to drive him crazy.
Straddling his lap, I wrapped my arms around his neck, feigning a confidence I didn’t fully feel.
“Hi, baby,” he murmured, pulling me down against him. “I like seeing you in my clothes.”
“Can I keep this shirt?” I teased.
“You can have my entire closet,” he replied, distracted, sliding his hand beneath the hem to cup my breast.
“What about your truck? Think you’d let me drive it?” I rocked my hips.
“You could wreck it tomorrow, and I’d buy you a new one,” he muttered, toying with the edge of my panties.
“How about you swap me the Z you’re hiding for my three H’s?” I challenged.
He glared up at me, curls falling over his forehead. “You play dirty, peaches. Good thing you’re so damn adorable.”
I laughed, chest pressed against him, warmth spreading through me. Despite the teasing, a small, tender part of me whispered that maybe he was safe. Maybe I could let him see all of me.
Scrabble turned into Monopoly, where I discovered the ruthless sort of capitalist Noah truly was, and after completing his fifth housing development, I forced us to start a round of Battleship.
Noah’s phone rang in the middle of me sinking his largest ship, and he stood to take the call, making an “I’m watching you” motion with his fingers.
Seeing the difference between my Noah and work Noah was stark. My Noah was gentle and soft, sharing parts of himself no one else saw. Work Noah was gruff, no-bullshit, and immediately in problem-solving mode. Both turned me on.
I watched him pace the kitchen, mumbling about a broken dishwasher and a kitchen leak, and wondered if it was my place to go and comfort him. Did this breach into work territory? Were we keeping things separate? Was the issue about me?
My anxiety ticked up, and the easy feeling of bliss that I’d felt all day started to fade.
I stood, ready to sneak back into the bedroom and change, when he crooked a finger at me.
I shuffled over, head down, bracing to be chastised, but he sat on a barstool and pulled me between his legs, tucking my head beneath his chin.
“Do you need me to come in?” he asked into the phone. “It’s Grant,” he mouthed to me. “I’d rather be safe than sorry. Call the plumber, and I’ll head over. Pull old towels from housekeeping and try to minimize the floor damage. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Bailey will be with me. How considerate of you to ask.”
I hid my laugh in his shoulder.
Noah kissed my forehead. “Unfortunately, duty calls, but I absolutely expect a Battleship rematch in the near future. Don’t think I didn’t miss you peeking at my ships when I walked away.”
I shrugged, not ashamed of my behavior. “If you ain’t cheatin’ you ain’t tryin’.”
Noah grinned. “Say something cute like that again, and we’ll never make it out of the house. Go get changed before I drag you back to bed.”
We pulled into the inn, the grounds bustling with dinner reservations and families returning for the evening. Reality hit me like a tidal wave, and the anxiety that I felt earlier was back in full force.
We turned to each other at the same time.
“I think it’d be best—” I started.
“Bailey, we should—” he said, then chuckled. “You go first, peaches.”
Even though it felt wrong not to let myself be all in on Noah, I had to play this smart. I’d been manipulated and humiliated before, and I thought I owed myself at least a bit of protection.
“I don’t want to make this a big…thing,” I said carefully. He rested his forearms on the wheel. “I know what this place means to you and to me, and I just think we should be careful. Private. Undefined?”
He nodded slowly, patience thinning.
“Did my actions last night or today imply I didn’t want to be with you? Didn’t want to be seen with you?” he asked.
“Well, no, but there were hormones and kissing—”
“And emotions, Bailey. Feelings. I have feelings for you that you’re desperate to push away for some reason. I know we didn’t start with picture-perfect honesty, but since our night at the bar, I’ve been nothing but truthful.”
He dragged a hand through his hair.
“I want you. I choose you. I’ll keep choosing you until you’re ready to admit what this is. When you find something this special, you hold onto it.”
I sat there, speechless, unraveled, and terrified of how much I wanted him. Self-preservation was a good thing, right? So why was it eating me alive to push him away?
He got out of the truck, opened my door, and pulled me into a tight hug. The fact that he didn’t make me continue the conversation, didn’t make me admit things I wasn’t ready to admit to, made me admire him even more. He sighed and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
“Let’s go, pretty girl.”
We walked inside, close enough that our hands could brush if we really wanted them to, but far enough away that we didn’t scream “couple.”
We filtered into the lobby, the chaos of guests and families pulling the attention away from us, and Noah gave me a long look before heading off to the kitchen. I wasn’t on the clock, but damn, I could use a mental distraction.
I glanced around and noticed Liam in the corner, eyes fixed on me and the spot where Noah had left.
He looked puzzled, or maybe upset? I gave him a sheepish grin before deciding to barricade myself in my room for the rest of the night.
A glass of wine and some trashy TV sounded like the solution to avoid thinking about Noah and the path of no return that I was quickly falling into.