Noah, in all of his roguishness, waggles his brows. As soon as he opens his mouth to comment, I nail him with a warning glare. He swallows the retort. “Right. I’m working on not letting my sexy inside thoughts out until we’ve said our vows. Sorry, sweetheart.” He kisses my cheek then goes on about his business.
I stare after him, taken aback that he shifted gears so quickly. And with respect and sincerity. When I used to address Lane (because I guess I have a thing for the flirty rakes of society), he would brush me off and say that I needed to grow up and not be such a prude. He didn’t respect the fact that his sexual comments turned me on and made me want things that I wouldn’t allow myself to have until marriage due to my morals.
But Noah?
He’s respecting me. Cherishing me. Showing me just how much he loves and cares for me by honoring my requests.
Snapping out of my comparison monologue, I rush to where he’s cutting the pickles into circular slices. I wrap my arms around him from behind and rest my face against his back. “Thank you, Noah. Now let me go help Branda whip up the Orange Julius. It’s still your favorite drink, right?”
Noah grins a megawatt smile. “Indeed. It’s almost as sweet as you.”
I roll my eyes, but the blush coating my cheeks over his cheesy line follows me all the way inside.
Noah’s Novel Notes
Chapter 17 ~
Esme, sweetheart. *Chef’s kiss* I love how perfectly you show the two of them back home in their typical environments, bonding and connecting. It’s sweet, gentle, and precious. Branda is going to be thrilled that we decided to include her into the story. And she’s going to die over the fact that we named her Annie. She’s always hated that name. Dad would use it as a shortened version of her middle name, Annison, when she was getting in trouble. So, thanks for letting me use that name for her character. I’ll take the heat from her if she comes after you about it.
I want to see you develop the town of Juniper Grove a little more. What are the quirks of the town? Does BE have a favorite place to hang out there? Does she run into people she knows when she’s out and about? It’s time to start connecting the beginning back to the ending, so get creative and breathe life into the town. Maybe we should explore it together soon? It’d be fun to check in on Lucy May while we’re there if you’re down.
All my love, your Noah Ashley Prewitt, superhero of NAPS! (P.S. – let’s cuddle soon?)
Chapter Twenty
As It Begins ~ mid-September
One month of dating.
One entire month of officially being with the man who stepped out of my novel, and I still can’t comprehend how I wrote a perfect relationship into existence.
Except it’s not perfect, which makes it all the more real and wonderful.
We had our first scuffle a week ago; I grin as I recall it.
“I won’t make it to Gloria’s cooking class tonight, Esme. We have a deadline to meet at work, and I’m not going to be able to get away in time. I’m sorry.” Noah sounded stressed on the phone, but I couldn’t stop my initial reaction. My heartbeat picked up, and all I could think about were the hundreds of times Lane bailed on our plans to hang out with his friends instead of spending time with me.
“But you promised me, Noah. You said we’d attend her first class together to support her.”
Noah sighed over the phone. “I know, sweetheart. And I’m truly sorry. I wish I could get out of this project, but I have tofinish these edits or Ashton will have to take on extra work. He needs my help.”
My heart sank as I tasted bile in my throat. I tried to remind myself that it wasn’t an excuse. That Noah wouldn’t do something like that to me. That it was my relationship trauma speaking. But in my anxiety, I blurted anyway, “Oh? So you’ll be there for Ashton and not me?”
Silence stretched between us, and I begged God to open the earth and swallow me whole. I shouldn’t have said that. What was wrong with me? Noah was a good man, and I was punishing him for the color of pain a past lover had painted me in. “Noah, I—”
My words were cut off as he started talking at the same time as me. “Esme, I don’t appreciate being talked to that way. What can I do to help you trust that my words are true?”
Tears beat against the back of my lids. “Noah, I’m so sorry. I do trust you. I know you wouldn’t make up an excuse to bail on me.” Liquid fell from my eyes as my chest was set aflame from shame and embarrassment. “You’re a good man, Noah. I spoke out of fear. Please forgive me.” I could barely manage to get that last phrase out around my sniffles.
More moments of stillness passed between us before my phone buzzed. Noah was video calling me. Wiping my eyes, I accepted the call. “I’m sorry,” I said again.
“Love? Look at me.” His voice was calm and gentle, and so I reluctantly turned my face from my lap and toward the phone screen in front of me. And Noah was…Smiling?“Hey, beautiful. It’s okay. All is forgiven. I have a few moments. Do you want to tell me what lies your fear was whispering into your ear?”
The burning in my chest eased at his steady show of love as he sought to understand.
God, I love this man,I thought to myself.
Still grinning over the memory, I sneak a look at my handsome guy sitting next to me in my brother’s truck. Every single day, he makes me feel safer, more secure, and stable, which is crazy for me to think about because the man is the extrovert to my introvert, routinely secondhand embarrasses me in public, and is always trying to do spontaneous things with and without me.
