“Pancakes are great,” I assured him. Noah nodded, the relief evident.
We didn’t talk much as we dug in. I put a generous amount of butter and maple syrup on my pancakes, then moaned when the flavour hit my tongue. “Oh my gosh, this is the best maple syrup I’ve ever tasted.”
“Thanks,” he said.
I glanced at the bottle, seeing the Whimsical Woods Maple Syrup label.
“Shut up. You didn’t make it?”
“Well, it’s a family effort. Been a tradition for over a hundred years! It’s from the sugar bush north of my parents’ place,” Noah explained. “We’ve got a sugar shack and everything. My dad and my brothers and I tap the trees and Dad handles the boiling part, since we’re busy with the resort. We also started offering maple tapping packages in March, so that resort guests can experience what it’s like and make their own bottles.”
“That’s so neat!” I said, the awe apparent in my voice. There was so much heritage here. I didn’t know much about my ancestors, aside from the general area they immigrated from, but Noah seemed to have centuries of known history.
“Yeah, it’s pretty neat.” Noah smiled, finishing up the rest of his pancakes. I still had half of my tower to get through, but I was already stuffed. The baby took up a lot of real estate, and although I was usually famished every few hours, it didn’t take much to make me feel full again.
“So, what do you want to do today?” I asked, wondering what the plan was—or if there even was a plan.
“Well, I was going to take you sledding on the trails, but I stayed up too late reading about how it’s not recommended while pregnant due to the high risk of falls and sudden movements that could harm the baby. Plus, the jarring motions of the snowmobile can potentially stress the placenta, and I don’t want to stress your placenta.”
“Thank you for considering my placenta,” I said, arching a brow and trying to keep a straight face.
“So instead, I figured we could hang out, watch some movies. Maybe talk,” he suggested.
“Talk about what?” I could sense Noah had a few topics in mind, from the way he tried to slip that in casually.
“Anything, everything. You, me, the baby, that sort of thing,” Noah stood, carrying his empty plate to the kitchen sink. He set to preparing me a tea.
“Can you elaborate a little more?” I asked, suddenly feeling anxious.
“I was kind of wondering what things would look like when the baby arrives.” Noah scratched at the back of his neck, avoiding my gaze. “Parker and Tabitha’s apartment isn’t very big. It only has the one bedroom. I was thinking, maybe you should move in.”
“I should move in?” I repeated slowly, frowning. I was stunned.
“I know we only technically just started dating, and while I can promise you until I’m blue in the face that I’m here to stay, I understand that you still have some hesitations,” Noah explained, bringing me the cup of hot tea. “But I’ve got three bedrooms here. Even if you weren’t ready to spend every night in my arms, there’s enough room here for you to have your own space and the baby to have her own room. And I could be here every step of the way to help.”
My jaw dropped, and I felt like I was careering off the edge of a cliff. “Noah, I only just met your family, and—”
“I know, it probably feels like it’s all too fast for you.” Noah sighed, scratching at his jaw.
“It’s—well, it is. But…” I paused, searching for the right words. “I don’t want to fast-track everything. I want you to be sure about your decision to be with me, and I want to be sure about mine. I don’t want our relationship to be a last resort just because I’m pregnant with your baby.”
“I promise you, it’s not a last resort. Not for me. It’s my first choice,” Noah said, sounding sure. The look in his eyes was sincere and determined. “I can understand if I’m not your first choice…”
“That’s really not it.” I shook my head, struggling to find a way to explain it. But I couldn’t even explain it to myself.
“Think about it. We still have five months to figure out what everything’s going to look like, but I want you to know it’s an option for us.” Noah took my hands in his.
After our heavy conversation that morning at breakfast, Noah had to go out and shovel and snowblow the driveway from the ten centimetres of snow we’d gotten in the early hours of the morning. While he did that, I took advantage of the empty house and grabbed a shower, then called Sage.
I filled her in more on what happened during the Wood family dinner, including Easton’s declaration that the Hartley triplets tended to spike the drink menu.
“The Hartley triplets wouldn’t do something that chaotic,” she insisted. “They might love playing matchmaker, but they couldn’t control the results over who drank it, and they love their control.”
“Well, you can’t blame me for wondering. I thought Noah was a playboy, but from the moment I’ve moved back, it’s like he only has eyes for me.”
“Noah was a playboy, and he does only have eyes for you. It’s evident every time you guys are around each other.”
“So, it’s not unreasonable to worry that we unwittingly drank the love elixir. Why would a former playboy suddenly change his tune?”
