Chapter 14
Beau
People said you could lose time in Willow Grove…but I didn’t know if it was the town, or Noelle that made me feel like time had ceased to have any meaning.
The Gloaming Festival was over, the campers and tourists gone, the silk dancers and fire spinners having packed up their gear and left.
The part she needed for her car was still on backorder, with no delivery timeframe in sight.
She toyed with the idea of doing some kind of miniseries to justify staying…
but I was starting to think she already had her justification.
Staying in my bed.
Staying in my arms.
Riding me until we both forgot the rest of the world existed.
It was some morning sometime after she’d arrived, some season blowing in outside—though I couldn’t have told you what day or even what month it was.
Her hands were splayed out across my chest, those sharp nails painted sapphire blue, her thighs on either side of my hips.
She’d taken me to hilt, sliding down, clamping around me, so fuckin’ wet…
I arched and rocked my hips, taking her slow in the early morning light.
“Jesus fuckin’ hell…” I muttered. “Every time…just gets better.”
Noelle let out a low, satisfied hum, tilting her hips just enough to drag more friction from the base of my cock. Her eyes fluttered closed, lips parted, breath shallow as she rode me—slow, sensual.
I dragged my hands up her thighs, gripped her hips, and watched her move.
She was still flushed from sleep, still soft and loose in the way she only got in the mornings.
Her hair was messy, a little wild, with dark, short tufts of hair sticking up where she’d tossed in her sleep.
She looked like something out of a dream.
“Fuck, you’re pretty,” I rasped.
She opened her eyes just enough to look down at me, a lazy smirk on her lips. “You always get this sentimental when I’m balls-deep on your cock?”
“Pretty much.”
She leaned forward, hands sliding from my chest to the pillow beside my head, and kissed me like we had nowhere else to be.
Like we hadn’t been doing this every morning, every night, every spare hour in between since the festival.
Like time had rewound itself to the first time she asked me to fuck her and stayed there, repeating on a loop.
And I didn’t give a single fuck.
Because I was losing myself in her—and it felt so good I didn’t want to fight it.
“Gonna come,” I mumbled, eyes squinting shut. “The way you’re fuckin’ movin’…”
She smiled against my mouth, that smug little smirk she always wore when she had the upper hand—which, lately, was most of the time. “Then come,” she whispered.
I groaned, hands tightening on her hips. But I didn’t speed up. Neither did she.
“Not yet,” I breathed. “Keep ridin’ me, baby.”
We just stayed like that—her wrapped around me, me buried so deep I didn’t know where my body ended and hers began.
The light in the room was soft and golden, the kind of light that made dust motes glow and made it feel like the whole house was dreaming.
There was no sound but the creak of the bed, the hush of our breathing, and the whisper of wind against the windows.
I didn’t know what time it was.
Didn’t care.
The only thing that felt real was her.
Noelle’s forehead dropped to mine, her hips still moving, just barely. She was quiet, but I could feel her getting close—little trembles in her thighs, the way her breath started to catch. I slid one hand between us, found her clit, and rubbed in slow, lazy circles.
She gasped. “Beau…”
“I got you,” I said softly. “Always got you, baby.”
Something shimmered between us then—some kind of heat that wasn’t just lust. It felt old. Familiar…like the town had folded us into its rhythm and decided we belonged.
She came first, and I followed a second later, pulled under by the way she clenched and shook and whispered my name. The moments after glowed, warmed, drifted…
…I loved her.
I had no idea how long she’d been here—it had to have been no more than a few days—but I fucking loved her. And I knew she kept saying she didn’t intend on staying, but I felt like the town wasn’t going to let her go.
I had to help her escape, if that’s what she wanted.
But what I wanted was for her to stay in my house, in my bed, until we were old and grey.
Noelle rolled to the side, her leg still hooked over mine, her cheek resting on my chest. I stroked her short hair, still caught somewhere between now and forever.
“Does it feel like none of this is real?” she asked quietly.
I looked down at her, brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” She drew lazy circles on my stomach with her fingertip. “I broke down here on accident, was supposed to stay for a few days…stayed longer. And now I’ve been here for…what? Over a week? And I’m supposed to go back to Austin and I just…”
I tilted her chin up toward me. “Remember, I’ll drive you if you really gotta go,” I said. “Just gotta ask.”
“That’s the thing,” she said. “I don’t think I want to leave.”
Noelle didn’t look at me when she said it. Her gaze stayed locked on the ceiling like she was afraid to make it real. But the second those words left her lips, I felt something shift in my chest.
I tightened my arm around her, brought her in close. “Then don’t.”
“It’s not that simple,” she said.
“Sure it is,” I murmured into her hair. “You don’t wanna go. So you don’t.”
She snorted softly. “You saying I should just…not show up to my professional commitments? Blow off my job and pretend like the world outside this bed doesn’t exist?”
“Yeah,” I said. “At least for a few more days.”
She went quiet again. I could feel her thinking, wheels spinning in that smart, fast brain of hers. The one that never slowed down long enough to let her rest.
Then she let out a small, guilty sound.
“Noelle?”
She rolled halfway onto her back, covered her eyes with her arm. “I was supposed to be in Austin for a panel yesterday.”
I blinked. “You missed it?”
“Missed it, ignored the frantic emails, sent a text to my co-host that just said ‘oops,’ and then turned my phone on Do Not Disturb.” She groaned. “I’m the worst.”
I glanced down toward the blankets, where our legs were still tangled together. “You’re not the worst,” I said. “I just put you under my spell.”
Her eyes rolled so far back in her head I thought they might stay there. “So you’re some kind of witch now, too?”
“Cast a spell on you with my magic wand.”
She stared at me.
I stared back, completely serious.
“You’re talking about your penis,” she said.
I started laughing, and Noelle picked up a pillow to smack me with it. “I’m not under a fucking spell,” she laughed. “I’m just…in a state of temporary professional collapse and medium-grade lust.”
“That right?” I grabbed the pillow, pulling it over me so she was pressed against my chest. The heat between us came rolling right back, my lips finding her jaw, trailing kisses to her neck. “I can help with both of those.”
“You sassy little—”
Before she could finish her sentence, a loud knock echoed through the house.
Noelle went still.
The knock came again, sharper this time. Milo, previously curled up at the foot of the bed, let out a sharp, warning bark and darted toward the front door.
“Who the hell—” I started, already climbing out of bed and grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the floor.
“Your brothers?” Noelle asked, sitting upright with wild hair, snatching one of my t-shirts from the side of the bed.
“They don’t knock,” I said. “And they would at least call first.”
Milo was going nuts at the front door, prancing around with his tongue lolling. He wagged his tail so fast it smacked me in the thigh as I approached the door—then I realized whoever was on the other side was talking.
“Noelle? I swear to God, if you don’t open this damn door, I’m going to break it down.”
I stopped in my tracks, looking back toward the bedroom.
Noelle groaned from where she stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but an Ashmore County High Baseball t-shirt.
I could see her nipples poking against the thin fabric, and I seriously considered ignoring the person at the door just so I could fuck her again.
I shook my head, reminding myself to behave.
“You know this asshole?” I asked.
“It’s…” she paused, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes. “It’s Shane.”
“Your co-host?”
She nodded, dragging her fingers through her hair. “And my producer…and my ride-or-die who I left on read for the past forty-eight hours while he was covering my panel solo and probably fielding a dozen industry contacts wondering if I’d been murdered.”
The voice came again, louder this time: “I know you’re in there, Kinney! I tracked your location and it’s been stuck at this auto shop for a week—so unless you’re tied to a bedpost or trapped in a well, I expect you to come answer this door like a functional human being.”
Noelle shot me a wild-eyed look. “I cannot let him see me like this.”
“You look beautiful.”
“I look freshly railed.”
“Which is accurate,” I said with a shrug. “…and also flattering.”
“That’s not the problem,” she said. “I blew him off because I was—”
“—blowing me?”
“You need to stop,” she said, pointing a finger at me.
But I was already opening the door.
I cracked it open just enough to peer out, finding a Latino guy in joggers, an overpriced hoodie, and the kind of sneakers that shone so bright white it was nearly blinding. He had a coffee in one hand, a phone in the other…
…and a glare fixed right on me.
He blinked, took me in—sweatpants, bare chest, hair a mess—and then looked down at the name stitched on the patch over the shop jacket hanging beside the door.
“Beau,” he read flatly. “You…are Beau.”
I raised a brow. “And you must be Shane.”
“Yes, and I’m here to see my friend so—if she’s even alive in there—”
He didn’t get the chance to finish his thought.
Because he was tackled by ninety pounds of extremely excited dog.
“Jesus!” he yelled, his coffee flying straight out of his hand and into the gravel. Milo’s paws were on Shane’s shoulders, his tongue darting out to get a taste of his face.
“Milo!” I shouted, grabbing for his collar. “Get down, boy…sorry…”
Noelle appeared behind me, a bag of treats in her hand. “Milo! You want a treat?” she shouted.
Milo froze mid-lick, head snapping toward her voice like he’d just remembered who really ran the house.
Even after just a couple weeks…it certainly wasn’t me.
Shane watched as Noelle, half-dressed and fully at home, lured Milo away, Milo’s tail going a mile a minute. Now that the door was open, Shane took the opportunity to step inside, eyes trained on Noelle.
“Is this the cryptid?” Shane asked.
I shrugged. “You talkin’ about the girl or the dog?”
That got a laugh out of him, Shane looking over at me. “Oh, I know she’s a cryptid.”
I probably should’ve said something—offered the man a towel or a damn apology or something—but I was still stuck on the way Noelle looked in my t-shirt—legs bare, cheeks flushed, the hem barely grazing her thighs.
Her hair was a mess, her voice was scratchy, and I wanted to drag her back to bed and make her come again.
Instead, I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over my chest. “So,” I said. “You’re Shane.”
He gave me a look like he’d prefer I combust on the spot.
“Mmhm,” he snapped. “And you are the reason I’ve had to field emails from three festival organizers, two publicists, and a woman from Austin public radio who thinks Noelle got kidnapped by a cult.”
Noelle winced. “That…was an overreaction.”
“You texted ‘oops,’ Kinney. Oops. I thought this story was about to go from paranormal to true crime.”
Noelle muttered something that sounded like kill me now and padded into the kitchen. I watched her go, still not over how easily she fit in here. Like she belonged.
Like I wouldn’t survive it if she decided otherwise.
Shane followed her, still fuming, and I let him.
Hell, if I were him, I’d be pissed too—but then I caught the look on his face when he saw the sink, half-full with two coffee mugs and a fork I hadn’t gotten around to washing.
Her phone on the counter, face-down. Her shoes by the door.
Her bag kicked under the table and mostly unpacked like she’d never planned to go.
The home she’d so clearly made here in such a short amount of time.
Noelle handed him a fresh cup of coffee as a peace offering. “Still like it with oat milk?”
“The redneck has oat milk?” he asked, shooting a glare back at me.
I shrugged. “I get her whatever she wants.”
Shane rolled his eyes, but took the coffee. Something passed between them then—old and familiar and loyal—and…hell, it fuckin’ scared me. Because this wasn’t some hookup I could pretend didn’t mean anything.
She had people. People who worried when she disappeared. People who might try to take her back.
People who hadn’t watched her fall asleep with one hand curled in my shirt like she was afraid I’d vanish.
Shane took a sip of the coffee, then hummed in delight. “Okay…the coffee is great, but I can wait to yell at you until you put on some clothes.”
Noelle snorted, moving toward the bedroom. I went to follow, but Shane raised a hand, one finger up like I’d tried speaking.
“You can stay,” he said. “You don’t need to put clothes on. In fact, I think it might be a crime for you to put clothes on.”
Noelle paused at the door and laughed. “Don’t objectify my boyfriend,” she chided, though there was no bite in it.
I blinked.
It was the first time she’d ever called me her boyfriend.
“Go get dressed, you whore,” Shane said. “I’m going to interrogate your boyfriend.”
Noelle shook her head with a grin and shut the bedroom door behind her. I stayed standing, not sure if I was even allowed to get myself a cup of coffee.
What the hell?
This was my house.
But…maybe it was Noelle’s house, too.
“Alright,” Shane said. “She’s not going to give me more than a couple minutes, so be straight with me.”
“Always.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You gonna break her heart?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“That the plan? Keep her here? Marry her? Build her a porch swing?”
I met his eyes. “I’m not tryin’ to trap her. But yeah. If she stays, I’d marry her in a heartbeat.”
Shane blinked. Slumped to a seat on the couch.
Then he looked genuinely unsettled for the first time since stepping foot in my house.
“…fuck,” he muttered. “You’re serious.”
I nodded. A second later, the bedroom door cracked open. I wondered if she’d heard me…if she knew just how serious I was about her.
But her smile set me at ease. If she’d heard me…she was in. She was sold.
I was hers.
“So…” she said. “Mabel’s?”