Noah is already smiling.
Before all this started with him, I would’ve been concerned, because Noah’s smiles were few and far between.
But now? Now all it does is makemesmile.
“Hi,” he says, that deep voice of his doing something to me it shouldn’t be. He told me we were on a strict schedule tonight, and there would be no room for tomfoolery.
But now that he’s standing in front of me in a pair of jeans that hug his thick thighs and a simple dark-green sweater that makes his already gorgeous brown eyes ten times prettier, Ireallywant to fool aroundwith him. Especially when I spy Pork at his feet. Why is Cat Dad Noah so damn hot?
“Hi yourself,” I say back, then point to the cat. “I take it he’s staying here?”
“Do you mind? I had no intentions of bringing him, but I was halfway through town when I realized he was curled up in the back seat. I think he’s been taking lessons from Tootsie on how to escape. I found him in the taproom yesterday. He was playing with the puck.”
I instantly know he’s talking about the one he has up on the fireplace mantel.
I mock gasp. “Notthepuck!”
“Laugh all you want, but when I’m dead and buried, that puck will be worth something one day.”
“And then I’ll finally be rich.”
He rolls his eyes, lips twitching. He doesn’t want to find me amusing, but he definitely does. “Are you ready?”
I nod. “Yep, just need to find my purse.”
I leave the door open for him and Pork to enter. The cat wastes no time trotting across my apartment, straight to the couch, where Beans is hidden underneath.
Pork wiggles his way under there, and I hear them meow at one another as if they’re saying hello.
I make a quick stop in the kitchen to put some food in the spare bowl I have for Pork, then grab my purse from the coffee table.
“So, what’s this mystery destination you’re taking me to? And why do I need to dress warm in the middle of summer?”
“You’ll see,” Noah says coyly, and I want to be annoyed he’s not giving anything away, but I can’t find it in me to be.
His hand settles on my lower back as he leads me out the door, hitting the lock button on the keypad behind us. I relish his touch the whole way down the stairs and get entirely too giddy inside when he pulls open my door for me.
I’ve never been with someone who does that, and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.
Noah settles into the driver’s seat, then leads us out of town. Music—an old eighties rock station that seems to play nothing but love ballads—plays in the background as we drive into the sunset.
“For being such a rainy day, it sure has turned into a gorgeous evening,” I comment.
“Yes, yes, it has.”
But when I look over at Noah, he’s not looking out at the beautiful yellow and pink and orange hues that tint the sky.
He’s looking at me.
His big hand falls to my thigh, and that’s where it stays the rest of the ride, burning my skin beneath his touch.
We drive for twenty minutes before he finally pulls off into an empty parking lot. A big building sits in front of us, looking like it’s seen better days.
I know I’ve driven past it several times on my way to Seattle, but I can’t recall what this place is.
“I don’t know what you had in mind, but it looks like this place is closed.”
He ignores me as he pulls into a spot right up front and puts the truck in park.
