Chapter 27
Paisley
D eception Bay is bathed in a golden glow as the sun peeks through the clouds and warms the town square. Checkered tablecloths in white and navy blue decorate the tables, while bunting hangs from the gazebo. After two cups of coffee, Beckett’s a little cheerier than when he picked me up this morning. Maybe breakfast was a bad idea for him. I hadn’t considered he might not be a morning person. But neither am I today.
Beckett leans in casually. “What’s eating you this morning?” he asks so only I can hear him. We have a group of patiently waiting patrons anticipating our promised breakfast. And right now, we need to get on this town’s good side, after my father tried to involve himself in our campaign then got arrested.
“Nothing,” I mutter, keeping the bright smile on my face needed for this job. I’m on the verge of crying. My dream is slipping through my fingers. But today’s not about me. I must pretend I’m just peachy, because Beckett’s campaign needs a boost. Rumor has it Noah has already taken the lead. This town just adores him, and my father’s antics yesterday have caused a dent in our campaign, on top of years of damage Beckett’s father did running Prescott Media. When I took on this job, I hadn’t realized just how much damage was already done to his reputation. He was right, he really did need help with it. I just wish the town could see the real him, the man he’s shown me. Sure, he can be a little conceited, and he likes to flaunt his wealth, but deep down, I know there is more to him and he loves this town.
My breakfast idea does seem to be doing the trick, though. Volunteers busy themselves, serving up steaming plates of pancakes to excited townsfolk, who take their time to chat with Beckett about his ideas for the town. And while his reputation isn’t amazing, he does have an undeniable charm about him. He has the ability to negotiate his way out of just about anything the townspeople throw his way. He’s also trying to be more relatable after our chat last night.
“Come on, kitten, I think you could say we have become well acquainted over the last few weeks. I know when you’re not yourself. Something has you all twisted up today. Are you still hurting after what happened with your father yesterday?” He raises a brow. “Is it Noah? We can use it against him if it is.” He chuckles, trying his best to pull me out of my terrible mood any way he can.
“It’s not Noah.” I sigh, so tired from our current situation. I mean, the man is doing his best to show his face everywhere I am. He’s driving me crazy. I know this town is small and he’s living next to me, but for fuck’s sake, how is he everywhere I am? Seriously. If I’m grocery shopping, he’s one aisle over. If I stop into the Bay Roaster’s for a coffee, he’s right behind me in the line. Every time I step out my front porch, he’s there. When I go to bed at night, he’s watching me through his window. Most nights he messages me, just to say good night. If I wasn’t so annoyed with him, it would be endearing. But I am. He might have tricked me into spending the night with him, but a couple of steamy nights won’t change my mind. I can’t trust him. He broke my heart, and he knows where I stand, yet he still hasn’t stopped. This town really isn’t big enough for the both of us. I’m also dying to know what happened between him and my daddy yesterday to end in an arrest. But I’m too proud to ask him.
I hand over another plate to an adorable little girl with blonde, curly pigtails. She smiles at me like it’s Christmas and I’m Santa then scurries off to enjoy her sweet treat. She was the last in line. “The bank won’t give me the loan I need to buy Wild Magnolia,” I admit, not able to keep the tension all bottled up any longer.
Beckett looks back at me with a confused expression as he wipes maple syrup from his hands with a paper serviette. “Why not?”
“ The collateral offered in support of the loan may not sufficiently mitigate the associated risks from our perspective .” I roll my eyes as I recite the line printed on the email. I didn’t sleep last night, just seeing it over and over, knowing my dream was about to disappear. “In other words, they don’t believe I will be able to make a go of it.”
He assesses me thoughtfully, not giving anything away. “They’re just saying that you might need to put a little more of your own cash in.”
“Well, that’s just fine and dandy, but I don’t have any more or any way of getting it. And I’ve run out of time to start up an Only Fans account. My boss needed an answer by today. It’s only a couple of weeks till they move to Dallas.”
He smiles at me, all charming Beckett, the smile he normally saves when he’s trying to charm a pretty girl or the public. “Chin up. I know you're going to make a real go of this. I’d be happy to spot you the difference. Besides, I can’t have my campaign manager causing a frenzy on Only Fans. Wouldn’t help my cause, even if it would be hot.”
I take a step back, so surprised by his offer. For all his dick moves, he also can be kind of sweet occasionally. “Beckett, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
“I know we got off to a rocky start, Paisley, but despite what you might think, I believe in you. You’re helping me with my dream. I want to help you with yours. How much do you need?” he asks like it’s no big deal.
Oh, shit, he’s serious about this. “I have no idea. Stella’s asking $150,000, but who knows how much the bank needs.”
He pulls me around the corner of a building with him, takes a check book from his suit pocket, and scribbles on it. “Don’t worry about the bank. Go give this to your boss, and we can have a contract drawn up so you can pay me back.”
I glance at the check; it’s for the entire amount. “No, Beckett, there is no way in hell I can borrow all this from you,” I mutter in shock.
He raises a brow. “Do you want the flower shop or not?”
My heart hammers out of control at the thought of it being mine. I know this is what I should be doing with my future. It’s like I can see in the crystal ball clearly now, that’s why the thought of me missing out hurts so much. “Yes, more than anything.”
“Then go get it. I’ll have my lawyers draw up a contract at a fair interest rate, and we can go from there.”
I stare back at him in total disbelief. This could be the stupidest thing I have ever done, but what have I really got to lose? It’s a business deal, he’s a businessman. It makes sense. “Why are you helping me?”
“I’m not all bad, Paisley. Contrary to popular belief, I actually do want to help this town. And I think you will make a good business owner. My father has helped many businesses make a start over the years; you can be the first one I’ve helped.”
“Thank you.” I smile at him, so grateful. “You know I was joking about the Only Fans thing, I wouldn’t really do anything like that. I mean, I’m sure it will be Mrs. Rashford’s new rumor, but if you hear it, it’s not true.”
He chuckles lightheartedly. “Can’t say I heard it yet, but I’ll be sure to shut her down if she tries. For what it’s worth, you would make a killing on there.”
“I wasn't interested in knowing about your computer-related escapades,” I mutter, shaking my head.
He laughs at me. “I don’t use it. I’m just saying.”
Before I see him, I can already make out his laugh through the crowd. Is he joking? He’s crashing our event! My fists clench into balls. Breathe, Paisley, just breathe, I tell myself. But I can’t, he’s so infuriating.
“Don’t let him get to you so much.” Beckett rubs my arm, trying to calm me. “Use all that hate to help me beat him.” He winks cheekily, but this isn’t funny. Noah’s wearing me down. Every time I see him, I fall a little harder under his charming spell. And he knows it.
“Why is he here?” I groan, not feeling up to dealing with him today.
“Because he wants you. He’s probably stalking your socials.” He laughs like he’s joking, and I slap his arm for it.
But he might not be that far from the truth. My eyes go wide as I realize that’s exactly what Noah’s been doing. How else is he everywhere I am? I pull out my phone and check my Instagram feed. Sure enough, every post I have put up over the last few weeks are the locations he’s turned up at not long after. He is stalking my socials. I don’t let on to Beckett, but I’m fuming mad about it. How dare he follow me everywhere I go.
“Better get back to my adoring people,” he says, and I follow him back around the front of the building reluctantly, taking my station with a bottle of maple syrup.
Noah makes it to the front of the queue, and one of the volunteers hands him a plate stacked with pancakes.
“Thanks, darlin’,” he says, all charming, and the young girl blushes. But his attention comes to me, and tension swirls in the air between us, so thick I could cut it with the little plastic knife in front of me. My heart races as our eyes lock. I’m so in love with him it physically hurts to be so close. How the hell did I get myself into this mess?
Tears prickle in my eyes. Why is he doing this to me? I turn away and head for the kitchen inside town hall. I’m unable to cope with him today. I keep telling myself not to let him get to me, but he’s making it impossible. He’s so gorgeous, and when he’s right there in my face all the time, it makes it almost impossible to stop from throwing myself at him. For three years I have done everything I could to get over him. Tossed myself at any guy who would give me a scrap of attention just to fill the empty void deep inside me, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they could be the one to break the spell Noah cast on me that summer. The devastating hold he left when he disappeared on me. And it’s worse now than ever before. My heart beats for him, and it’s killing me slowly. He’s the only man who can give me what I need, and he damn well knows it. My body comes alive with him. But I can’t go back there. I just can’t. I hide out in the kitchen, busying myself sorting merchandise into piles and cleaning up the mess we made last night.
“What a brilliant idea. Breakfast with the wonderful people of our town. You don’t mind if I crash your event and do a little shmoozing, do you?” His voice comes from behind me. Should have known he would follow me back here, like the stalker he is.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself before I open my mouth. Turning slowly, I find him leaning against the doorway casually and wonder how long he was watching me before he said anything. “What you do is none of my business, Noah,” I mutter, trying to act distracted with some hats. But I’m not distracted. All I can think about is him. I want him to save me from my loneliness, but I can’t bear the thought of him leaving me again. I wouldn’t survive it this time.
“But what you do is mine,” he says, his voice low and menacing. What the hell does he even mean by that?
My eyes meet him in a deathly stare. “Are you spying on my socials, Noah?” I just throw it out there, sick of it.
He shrugs. “So what if I am? I told you I’m not going to let this go, Paisley.”
Oh my God. He’s not even going to try and deny it. My glare intensifies. “That’s really messed up. You have a problem, you know.” He looks me over, not fazed by my hate toward him. I’m not going to get anywhere with him. He’s impossible. I go to pass him, just needing to be as far away from him as possible.
But he takes my arm, stopping me. “Do I?” He stares at me, heating me up under his intensity.
“Yes,” I whisper, losing my edge when he’s so close.
He pushes me back in the room and closes the door behind us. “I don’t see a problem here. You’re enjoying this little game as much as I am. You want me to chase you, it turns you on.” He runs his hungry eyes down my body, eating me up. A pool of moisture coats my panties. He can’t look at me like he’s starving and I’m the only one who can feed him. He just can’t. I swallow the lump in my throat, trying to find words.
“Don’t you, baby?” His lips turn up at the sides. He knows he has me.
My heart hammers out of control. My pussy throbs with desperate need for him to fill her up. He could make me feel so fulfilled in every way, and that is very dangerous. It’s why I need to run the hell away.
He cups my face so delicately, like he’s afraid of hurting me. The pads of his fingers ever so lightly dusting over my jaw, then down my neck, he keeps going over my arm then settles on my waist where he pulls me toward him more aggressively, nearly knocking the air from my lungs. Our bodies are so close I can feel how hard he is for me, his thick cock straining against his suit pants. “If you don’t want this, Paisley, just say so and I will walk away.”
I’m struggling to breathe, sucking in labored breaths, hoping to clear the brain fog before it’s too late, but my attempts are futile—I’m craving him like never before, and he knows it. I wet my lips. Suddenly they feel impossibly dry. His piercing eyes dart right to them, then without warning, he drops his head, claiming me.
His kiss is desperate and greedy, but it lights me up inside, a warmth that spreads right through me like sunshine on a winter’s day. This is what I’ve been missing in my life. His hand slides down to my ass, pulling me into him harder. His leg slides between my thighs, parting them, and he pulls me up his body so I’m straddling his thigh. As he kisses me, I rock over it, wanting to ease the ache between my legs. We make out like horny teenagers, tongues and lips battling. His hands are everywhere, roaming over my curves, tugging at my hair, and my frantic body liquifies for him. I want to rip the shirt from his chest so I can really feel him. I want him to throw me over the counter so he can fuck me until I don’t feel so empty anymore.
I’m so lightheaded my head spins, and I grip the wall behind me for stability. What am I doing? My hands move to his chest, and I shove him back, suddenly desperate for space. “Noah. I can’t. We can’t,” I mutter, trying to form a sentence that makes sense. “I’m working. And you’re our competition.” I state the obvious, feeling like a terrible employee. Beckett has been so kind to me, and I repay him by making out with his enemy. But the tension between us is just too much, I couldn’t resist it.
“Stop pushing me away, Pais.” His eyes plead with me to give in to him, but I know he won’t push anything with me I’m not totally up for. He might be acting like an obsessed stalker, but he would never force me into anything I’m not comfortable with. He knows my limits, and even though it’s obviously killing him to back off, he does.
“What happened between you and my daddy yesterday?” I ask, not sure if I really want the answer.
He takes another step away from me then runs his fingers over my hand, shoving up the long-sleeve shirt I have worn to cover my bruises. “I saw what he did to you and decided it was the last time he would lay a finger on one of his children. My only regret is not doing something about it sooner.” His sad eyes meet mine, and I see the depth of his despair. I know he cares about me and Parker, that much is obvious. And it melts my hatred toward him. We have so much history, all of us. Maybe that’s why this is so impossible. He’s ingrained into my past. But then I think about what he said and realize for him to know my father hurt me yesterday means he was there and saw it.
“You were watching us eat lunch?” I whisper. I never posted about going to lunch at the café yesterday. Did he follow me there from the flower shop?
His guilty eyes run over me. “I needed to make sure you were safe. Someone has to look after you.”
“Noah.” I gasp. “That’s not your job.” My heart kicks up a beat, racing with uncertainty and confusion. He looks at me like I’m his entire world, like he would do anything for me. But he left me anyway. Back then, I would’ve given him my whole heart. I told him how I felt. I have never loved anyone the way I loved him. The way I think I still do. But I can’t. My heart wouldn’t survive him leaving me again.
His thumb gently brushes over the marks my father left as though he’s trying to take away my pain. “We can’t keep doing this,” I whisper, having trouble getting the words to cross my lips because they’re not the words I want to say.
He doesn’t hide the hurt in his eyes. But he did this to us, not me. “What were you and Beckett talking about huddled together earlier?” he growls, his words dripping with contempt.
“None of your business,” I snap, pulling out of his grip on me. He can’t be jealous of Beckett, he’s my boss and that’s it. I’m not even going to have this conversation with him.
“Is something going on between the two of you? Is that why you’re walking away from me?”
“No,” I cry, exhausted, “I’ve had enough of this.” I head for the door, needing to distance myself so I can think straight. Because I certainly can’t do that in this man’s presence.
“Be careful, you can’t trust him, Paisley,” he says, his words strained. “You can’t trust anyone; I’m not messing around.” His words hold a serious edge that scares me. But I know this is just his jealousy shining through, because Beckett would never do anything to hurt me. As strange as it is to say, I think we’re friends, and I’m kinda grateful for that.
I glare back at him, a sassy smile coming over my lips. “You don’t have to worry about me. I don’t trust men. Any of them. You taught me that lesson.” I shove open the door and stride away from him as quickly as I can. Shoulders back, head held high, and the clickity clack of my heels on the linoleum floor. I can pretend I’m okay, I’ve done it for a long time. It’s easy really, just smile and no one will know I’m dying inside, because the last thing I wanted to do was walk away from Noah right now. With everything going on with my father, the shop, and even the campaign, I needed him just like I did three years ago. But it’s hopeless, I can’t escape one problem with another one. It’s time to pull up my big girl panties and get on with it alone.
Margo rounds the corner of the building, looking frantic. Her worried eyes meet mine, and she looks me over with a scrutiny I don’t appreciate. I get it, Miss Perfect, you don’t like me. You have made that perfectly clear.
“Miss Whittaker, umm, have you seen Noah?” she asks, her voice uncertain.
“In the kitchen,” I grumble and point her in the general direction. I hate that she’s his manager, shy, way too young, and pretty. Just his type, I’m sure. And I have probably just sent him into her arms by walking away. But I have to protect myself because I learned that lesson the hard way. No one else will. And while Noah is making a fantastic show of chasing me this time around, I have to remind myself, games are his thing. Once he has the prize, he will discard me like last time. But I’m no one’s game, and I won’t be played so easily.