Emery #3
“Oh, yes, she looks beautiful.” Bash glanced up and met my gaze through the mirror. “You look beautiful, Emery,” he said as his expression stilled.
My cheeks warmed from his compliment.
“Mommy looks like a princess,” Timothy said as he took a step closer to me with his hand outstretched.
“Not so fast, my man.” Noah reached out and grabbed ahold of Timothy’s arm before he could reach the skirt of the dress.
He stepped forward and scooped Timothy up into his arms. “We don’t want to get Mommy’s dress dirty, do we?
” His gaze was trained on Timothy, who was staring at him like I was staring at the two of them.
This was the first time Noah had parented Timothy—or even picked him up like that. And saying mommy? That term felt intimate. It was almost like…we were a family.
As if he suddenly noticed what he’d done, Noah slowly set Timothy down on his feet. “I mean…” He looked embarrassed as he dropped his gaze to the floor and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
“You know what? There’s a cookie store next door. I think we should get Uncle Bash a cookie, wouldn’t you agree, Timothy?” Abigail reached down and grabbed his hand. Her question was really more of a demand.
“But I want a cookie,” Timothy said, his feet firmly planted on the ground.
“Well, we can get you a cookie, too,” Abigail said as she grabbed both Timothy and Bash’s hands and started pulling them out of the store.
I parted my lips to tell them to wait for me to change, but Abigail must have anticipated my response. She threw a quick, “Noah can help you finish up,” over her shoulder before they disappeared outside.
Now alone with Noah, I peeked over at him.
He was still standing in the exact same spot he’d been in when he picked Timothy up.
His gaze was trained on the front door. His body was rigid, and there was tension in the air between us.
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do or say, so I just stood there, staring at Noah.
The seconds that ticked by felt like hours. Finally, he glanced over at me, and his expression turned sheepish as he ran his gaze over my dress. When he brought his gaze back up to meet mine, we just stood there as if we were waiting for the other person to speak.
“Um…” He cleared his throat. “Is that the dress?”
I glanced down and smoothed the fabric of the skirt with my hands. “I think so,” I whispered. My mind was racing a mile a minute. My conversation with Abigail and the revelation of my feelings for him were at the forefront of my mind. I wanted him to like the dress. I wanted him to like me.
Was that too much to ask?
“If it’s okay with you,” I hurried to add. I wanted Noah to compliment me, but I also wanted him to be okay with this wedding as a whole. Even if our marriage was going to mean more to me, I wanted him to be happy.
His eyebrows went up. “I’m okay with it,” he said, his tone dropping an octave and sending shivers across my skin.
“Oh, okay. Good.” I was ready to get out of this dress and join Abigail, Bash, and Timothy. When I was with them, I got space from Noah. I wouldn’t have time to overthink his every move. Overanalyze his every look. Or read into the way the tone of his voice changed when he talked to me.
I could go on pretending that I had feelings for my fake husband.
I gathered the skirt in my hands so I could step off the pedestal without tripping.
But as soon as I moved to step down, I realized I’d misjudged how far away the floor was.
My hands flew out in an effort to catch myself, but the impact never came.
Instead, two strong hands wrapped around my arms, and I was pulled to a very firm, very familiar chest.
“Whoa.” Noah’s voice was low and close. So very close.
Adrenaline pumped through my veins as my hands splayed across his pecs in an effort to catch myself. I could feel his pounding heart as he pulled me closer.
“You okay?” he asked.
I could feel him staring, and I knew I shouldn’t look up, but I did. Noah’s face was inches away from mine. His gaze was intense as he studied me. As if he were desperate to make sure I was fine.
“Yes,” I whispered as the desire to push off his chest and run away took over.
We were too close. This was too intimate. It was torture to want to be with him but, at the same time, also accept the fact that he didn’t want to be with me. That everything I wanted to be real was a ruse. A fake relationship with an expiration date.
“You sure?” His voice was gruff.
“Yes,” I said with more confidence as I pushed off his chest. I needed some space. I needed some air. I needed to breathe.
“Okay,” Noah said as he released his hold on me and let me step back.
I straightened and adjusted my dress to dispel the nervous energy currently coursing through my veins. I forced my body to calm down. I needed a level head if I was going to continue this fake marriage with Noah. My feelings needed to be a thing of the past.
If I was going to survive the next three years, I needed to forget that I’d fallen for Noah Banks.
I needed to move on.