33. Noah
Noah
Eli pulled me to the side while Bailey spoke with Ma, her hands moving animatedly as she explained something about centerpieces and table placements. She looked completely in her element—confident and capable.
“You need to tell her what’s going on.” Eli kept his voice low, but there was no mistaking the edge in it. He gestured toward Bailey. “She’s getting suspicious, and I’m not lying to her anymore. It’s good news, Noah. Why wouldn’t you want to share it with her?”
I didn’t answer right away. My gaze stayed locked on Bailey as she nodded along to something Ma said, her smile easy, unguarded. I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down my face. I knew he was right. I hated that he was right.
“I’m planning to tell her after the wedding this weekend,” I said finally. My voice sounded steadier than I felt. “One, I want her to be able to focus on that. And two”—I glanced back at her, watched the way she lit up as Tessa joined them—“I want everyone in town to see what she’s capable of.”
Eli crossed his arms. “You think she needs to prove herself?”
“No,” I said immediately, sharper than I meant to. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. But it wouldn’t hurt to have the town on board when I tell her.”
“When you tell her,” he repeated, like he didn’t quite believe me.
He followed my gaze. Bailey laughed at something Ma said, then tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, shifting into problem-solving mode when Tessa held up two different napkins.
“She’s been fighting to show everyone how talented she is since she got here,” I went on. “If I drop this now, everyone will think she only got it because she’s with me. Because of my name and not because she earned it.”
“You don’t think she’ll think that?” Eli asked quietly.
That hit harder than it should have. My jaw tightened as I finally dragged my attention away from Bailey and looked at him. “She knows me.”
“Yeah,” he said, not backing down. “She does. Which is exactly why this could blow up in your face.”
I let out a quiet breath. “I would never—”
“I know,” he cut in. “That’s not the point. The point is you’re making a decision for her. You’re deciding what she can handle, when she hears it, how she reacts.”
“She knows I would do anything to make sure she can see a future here,” I said, but even to my own ears, it sounded more like justification than truth.
“Yeah,” Eli said again, softer this time. “But at what cost? Keeping things from her? Taking away her ability to choose?”
Across the room, Bailey looked up like she felt us watching. Her eyes found mine, softening instantly, and she gave me a small wave.
God help me, I was addicted.
“I’m telling her,” I said finally, more to convince myself than him. “After the wedding, when she’s not stressed and can actually enjoy it.”
Eli held my gaze for a long moment. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
I hoped I did too. Bailey excused herself from Ma and started toward us, exhaustion written all over her face.
“Are you ready to head out?” she asked. “I’m absolutely beat, and you promised me a foot massage.”
I chuckled. “I don’t recall saying that, peaches.”
She grabbed her purse and headed toward the back entrance. “Must’ve been my other boyfriend then,” she called over her shoulder.
I watched her go, shaking my head. Minx.
I had convinced Bailey to stay the night at my place instead of the inn, touting that my clawfoot tub screamed relaxation, and it did.
But mostly, I enjoyed seeing Bailey in my space, waking up and getting dressed next to each other.
Making her coffee with an absurd amount of creamer.
It felt domestic in a way I had never experienced before, and I loved it.
We walked into the entryway, and Bailey immediately kicked off her sandals, rolling the cricks out of her neck with a quiet groan.
I stepped in behind her, close enough that my chest brushed her back, and slowly ran my knuckles up and down her spine, feeling the slight shiver that followed. Her head tipped back a fraction.
“You’re tense,” I murmured.
“Wedding is tomorrow,” she mumbled.
My hands slid to her shoulders, thumbs pressing in slow circles. She exhaled, long and quiet, leaning into me like she trusted me to take the weight off.
I bent, brushing my mouth just beneath her ear. “Let’s get you in the tub,” I whispered against her neck.
“Are you joining me?” she asked, turning slightly so her fingers grazed the front of my shirt.
“If you’ll have me.” Her eyes darkened in a way that made my pulse kick.
“I suppose,” she said, pretending to consider it. “As long as you actually follow through on the massage.”
I hummed, letting my hands slide down her arms before catching her fingers and tugging her gently toward the bathroom. Steam filled the space as I turned the tap on, and the clawfoot tub slowly filled with water. Bailey stripped slowly, watching me like she knew exactly what she was doing.
“You’re staring,” she teased.
“Can you blame me?”
When the water reached the perfect level, she stepped toward me instead of the tub. Her hands slipped beneath the hem of my shirt, palms warm against my stomach, before helping me pull it over my head.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” she said softly.
I slid my hands to her waist, pulling her closer until there wasn’t an inch between us. “I’m trying to behave.”
She laughed under her breath. “Since when?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I kissed the corner of her mouth, slow and unhurried. Bailey stepped into the tub, sinking into the water with a contented sigh. I watched the tension leave her shoulders.
“Okay,” she said, tilting her head back against the porcelain. “This was a good call.”
“I’m full of great ideas, baby,” I replied, stripping off my jeans before sliding in behind her.
The warm water shifted as I settled, her back fitting naturally against my chest. Her hair was piled high on her head, exposing her slender neck, with a few rogue curls escaping to frame her face.
I reached for the soap, letting my hands slide slowly over her shoulders and down her arms. Bailey’s fingers drifted through the water until they found my thigh. She traced idle patterns there, her touch light but deliberate.
“You’re being suspiciously quiet,” she murmured.
I pressed a kiss to the curve of her shoulder. “Just tired.” It wasn’t entirely a lie.
She turned slightly, her lips brushing my jaw. “You’d tell me if something was wrong?” she asked.
“I would,” I said.
She studied me for a second longer, then decided not to push. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed me, slow and warm.
I had never had someone to come home to after a long day, never had someone to remind me that the weight of my family’s legacy didn’t sit entirely on my shoulders. But now that I had Bailey? There was no going back.
My hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer, water lapping softly around us. Steam thickened the air until the world narrowed to her breath against mine, her fingers in my hair, the steady rhythm of our heartbeats trying to match. Her forehead rested against mine when we finally pulled apart.
“You’re my best friend,” she whispered.
I love you lodged in my throat, pressing hard and threatening to come out. And for a second, I almost let it, almost let the truth come out.
Instead, I swallowed it down and kissed her again—slower this time, like I could make up for the words I didn’t say.
“You’re my whole world,” I whispered back.
And I prayed that when she finally knew the truth, she’d still look at me the same way.