Emery
I woke up the next morning feeling more hopeful than I had in a very long time. There was something freeing about the arrangement that Noah and I made last night. For the first time in a long time, I felt…calm.
I sighed as I extended out my right hand and let it fall onto Carson’s side of the bed.
Darkness coated the room as I stared up at the ceiling.
I allowed myself to wonder what Carson would say if he were here right now.
Part of me could see him laughing at that fact that Noah was the guy I would be faking a marriage with.
He’d always lamented about how much he missed his friend and how disappointed he was that they never had time for each other after they graduated and went their separate ways.
In a small way, it almost felt like Carson had a hand in bringing Noah back into my life. If there was anyone that he would be okay with me faking a marriage with, it would be Noah. Noah wasn’t going to take advantage of me like I feared other men would.
My thoughts turned to the board and the conversation I was going to have with Charles later today. I couldn’t imagine that they would have a problem with who I chose—just that I got married.
It was still strange to me that they enacted this stipulation.
I wanted to believe that they had good intentions.
If I fulfilled the requirement, then no one could come to me in the future and challenge my right to be CEO.
I wasn’t a true Torres. I was the widow of the man who had been promised that role.
I could see that fact being raised should someone with ill intent join the board.
If I was correct, and they were truly only looking out for me, I could only imagine what they would have thought of my utter failure at flirting in Harmony.
I was embarrassed when I thought back on my interactions with both men, but Will in particular.
I couldn’t even get myself together enough to get drinks with that man.
How was I going to react when it came to a lifelong commitment?
I blew out my breath as I closed my eyes and shook my head. I was in no shape to flirt, date, or marry. Thank goodness Noah was okay with putting on this charade.
He was a lifesaver.
Not wanting to wallow in bed all morning, I pulled off my comforter and dressed in my workout clothes. I still had a few hours until we needed to leave, so I was going to get a workout in before Timothy was awake.
Noah was in the gym when I walked in. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say to him—what does one say to their soon-to-be fake fiancé—but he didn’t seem interested in engaging with me. He was busy in the squat rack, so I made my way over to the treadmill.
We worked out side by side in silence until I got to my stretches and Noah left the room.
The door latch engaging marked his departure as I turned my attention to the mirror in front of me.
He hadn’t looked finished—he’d been in the middle of biceps curls—so it was strange that he’d, once again, abandoned his workout.
I did a quick armpit check just to make sure it wasn’t my body odor that had Noah sprinting out of the room. I smelled like baby powder. I glanced at my body, just to make sure that nothing was exposed that shouldn’t be.
I came up empty-handed.
I shook my head as I finished my stretches and then rolled up my yoga mat and stuffed it into the basket in the far corner. Whatever had happened was Noah’s issue. I wasn’t going to dwell on it.
The hallway was quiet as I walked to my room.
Once I was showered and dressed, I did my makeup while my hair dried in curlers.
Timothy’s morning ritual of coming into my room with sleep in his eyes had me quickening my pace.
I told him to go get dressed and I’d meet him in the kitchen for breakfast.
Noah was making scrambled eggs with cheese and bacon when I walked in.
My stomach growled from the smell. I took a moment to stare at the man as he stood at the stove in a dark blue button-down shirt and black slacks.
The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing his tattoos, and he was holding a spatula in one hand.
It was nice having Noah around. If this was a preview of the next three years, I didn’t hate it. I’d spent so many mornings getting Timothy dressed and fed by myself that it was a shock to my system to see someone else taking charge. I hadn’t realized how overwhelmed I been until this moment.
He must have felt my stare because, a moment later, his gaze was on me. I blinked, forcing my thoughts to return to the present. I offered him a soft smile, hoping that he would pick up on the fact that I appreciated what he was doing.
“Morning,” I said as I made my way toward the coffee machine only to find that Noah had already started it.
“Morning,” he replied, his voice low and smooth.
For some asinine reason, shivers erupted across my skin. I cleared my throat and glanced around before I leaned against the counter with my arms folded. I was so discombobulated. I needed a job to do.
“Timothy up?” Noah asked. He was holding the handle of the pan and was pushing the eggs around with the spatula.
I nodded. “Yeah. I told him to get dressed and then meet me in the kitchen because I was going to make breakfast.”
Noah whipped his gaze to me with his eyes wide and his lips parted. “I—I’m so sorry. I just thought…” He glanced down at the eggs and then back up to me.
I raised my hands. “No, no, that’s not what I meant.
” Heat warmed my cheeks. The last thing I wanted to do was stick my big foot in my mouth.
This man wanted to help out around the house, and I’d be an idiot to squash that desire.
I met his gaze so he would know that I was serious.
I leaned forward so he could feel the gravity of my words. “Thank you for making us breakfast.”
He studied me before he nodded. “Don’t say thanks just yet.” He turned back to the eggs and pushed them around once more before he reached forward and turned off the burner. “I’m no Chef Ramsey.” He held up the pan and shrugged. “Scrambled eggs is about as culinary as I get.”
I smiled as I glanced down at the eggs and then brought my gaze back up to meet his. “They look amazing.” I meant it. They did look good, and the fact that I didn’t have to make them made them even more desirable.
The smile that emerged on Noah’s lips had my heart picking up speed.
There was something in his gaze, something in the way he looked at me that warmed my soul.
Maybe it was because we were about to embark on a three-year fake marriage together.
Maybe it was because when I asked him to do me this unreasonable favor, he hadn’t shut me down.
Or maybe it was because, for the first time since Carson’s death, I didn’t feel alone anymore.
“I’ll plate up the food if you want to pour me a mug?” he asked, nodding toward the coffee pot that was now full with steaming hot amber liquid.
“Of course,” I said as I pulled down two mugs and set them on the counter.
We worked side by side, him filling the plates with eggs while I poured the coffee. When I was about to ask him what he took in his coffee, he said, “Just cream,” before I even got my question out.
I nodded as I finished off our drinks. I grabbed a mug in each hand and followed after him while he brought our plates to the table.
Timothy joined us, halting any conversation we might have engaged in.
With my son in the room, he was my main focus.
We ate Noah’s eggs and listened to Timothy lament about how boring school was and how he didn’t want to go.
I studied him from above the rim of my mug with my mom gaze that I hoped told him, I know you’re unhappy, but you’re going to school.
Noah seemed to have more sympathy for Timothy’s frustrations than I did. He nodded in agreement when Timothy told him how stinky math was and how he had to sit next to Hailey in science. Apparently, she smelled like an old grandma. I vocalized my displeasure at his words, but he ignored me.
Once we were all finished, I instructed Timothy to gather up the dishes—he didn’t help make the food, so he could help clean it up—as I slipped back to my room to grab my stilettos and my purse.
Noah was helping Timothy with his jacket when I rounded the corner of the hallway that led to the front door.
Timothy was going on and on about some dinosaur he’d seen on a show last night, and Noah was nodding along.
If it had been me, I would have tuned him out a long time ago, but Noah seemed completely engrossed and was trying his hardest to keep up with all the facts Timothy was rattling off.
“So, dinosaurs had feathers?” Noah asked as he lifted Timothy’s backpack off the hook and held it up so Timothy could feed his arms through the straps.
“They’re more like birds than lizards,” Timothy said in his perfect know-it-all five-year-old voice.
Noah paused and brought his gaze down to meet Timothy’s. “That’s crazy.”
Timothy held up his pointer finger. “No, that’s cool.”
Noah laughed. “You’re right, that’s cool.”
A familiar ache rose up inside of me as I watched them talk. It was a feeling that seemed to have awoken inside of me now that Noah was permanently in our lives. It was a mixture of the ache I felt when I missed Carson and a sense of gratitude that Timothy finally had a male figure to look to.
My son deserved the world, and I wasn’t naive enough to think that my love would ever fully make up for the lack of a father in his life.