Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
We’re moving so fast that I don’t know if we’ve had time to consider the repercussions. I’m still throwing caution to the wind.
With him, it’s easy to forget the world outside.
In here, it feels safer in his arms.
My body feels weak, and my legs wobbly. “I’m so tired.”
“I got you.” His arms come around me, and the strength of our connection keeps me from slipping as we finish our shower. He asks, “Why were you crying?”
I had hoped to escape that line of questioning, but I should have known better. Noah would never leave someone in such disrepair. “It’s been a long day, and I had a lot of emotions to deal with.”
As we dry off, he keeps his eyes on me as if he knows I won’t say anything to upset him. “You can talk to me.” His tone remains as steady as his eyes. “Is it Cassandra?”
“I am worried about her. I hope she’ll be okay.”
“Is she not?”
“She is.” After wrapping the towel around me, I tuck in the tail and then apply my moisturizer. Leaning against the counter next to me, Noah watches in a way that’s not intrusive, but he might be taking mental notes. I continue with my routine because that look in his eyes makes me feel like a million bucks. “I stayed until she came out of surgery. They told me she did well.”
“That’s good.” Moving behind me, he massages my shoulders, causing me to sag under the incredible feel of his hands. “Talk to me. What else is on your mind? Maybe you’re hungry.” He places a quick kiss on my neck and then another. “I can make a solid omelet depending on what’s in the fridge. Or I can order you something?”
Our eyes meet in the reflection of the mirror. Leaning back, I have no doubt he’ll catch me. Big arms swallow my frame as I’m sure he’s struck with the vision of us together as a couple like I am. I fit so well with him as if I was built to fill the spaces of his frame. “That’s not necessary. Thank you, though.”
When he nods, a slight yawn tries to steal the show, but he fights it, reminding me of how Maxwell does the same. Turning around, I run my hands over his chest and upward until I wrap them around his neck. “I’m glad you’re staying.”
My body feels small in his hands as they run from my waist to my hips, repeating the path several times. “I’m glad you asked.”
Cupping my face, he moves in to kiss me, this time deepening it. When we part, I stay lost in the beauty of our bond for a few seconds before I open my eyes again. “Hey you,” he whispers. “Let’s get you to bed.”
I’m scooped into his arms and carried into the bedroom. “I need to check on Maxwell first.” He detours out the door and sets me at the foot of the nursery. Seeming just as interested in peeking in, he stands behind me when I open the door. The gentle breeze of light that shines in is enough for me to see Maxwell sound asleep in his crib.
Noah’s shadow engulfs mine, and for a moment, my mind can see him in that chair again, holding Maxwell like he is his own. He is already, and I just know in my soul that their bond runs deep.
I listen, needing to hear his breathing to feel comfortable enough to close the door. “He’s good.”
Taking Noah’s hand, I bring it to my mouth and kiss it. Holding it there, I soak in the way he blended so easily into my night, my home, my life.
I’d like to think about what happens tomorrow, but that didn’t go so well for me last time. Is it better to set my expectations aside and enjoy our time together?
The top of my head, my hair still wet from towel-drying it, is stroked, and then he leans over to kiss me there. We linger in the hall, both of us a little unsure about the next step, but maybe . . . maybe not each other this time around.
He pulls me into his arms, holding me where we started tonight. Noah whispers, “He was never upset. Max laughed a lot and then zonked out on my shoulder. I think he called me here to meet and hang out.” A light chuckle appears to be caught in a memory. “It’s like the trust was already there between us the second I opened the door.”
“Noah?”
He tilts to see my eyes. Can he see how they’re filling with tears? That telling me he and my son shared more than a few laughs and sleep, that they share blood and a resemblance, and even a name?
My body feels wrecked from the emotional overload, but I can’t hold on to this secret any longer. Not just for Maxwell but also for Noah’s sake. He needs to know Maxwell trusts Noah because he feels safe with him.