–Me: Thanks. I’ll ask Bobbi what she needs. She got four stitches, so she might need some help.
–Aspen: If she needs help with the bakery, I can totally do it. Not with the baking, but with the coffee pots, displays and cash registers. I worked at a café in college, and I was good at it.
“Wow…” I swallow a small lump. I can always count on my cousins—and Yuna and Ivy—but I never imagined I’d get the same kind of absolute support from Noah’s family as well. I thought it might take a while to win them over.
“They care about you,” Noah says, kissing my temples like he knows exactly what I’m feeling right now. “You’re part of the family, Bobbi.”
“Isn’t this a little…premature?” My voice trembles slightly. “We aren’t even engaged or anything.”
He takes the phone from my hand and puts it on the night stand, then shifts carefully to avoid touching the injured arm and holds me tight, so I can feel his heart beat against my skin. “None of that matters,” he says in the dark. “I’ve never brought a woman home to introduce or hosted a lunch like what we had. They know you’re the only woman to hold my heart.”
I lay my arm over him, the unease I’ve had since the trip to the Antelope Canyon dissipating like a handful of sand in the ocean.
We should be fine as long as we love each other and have each other’s backs.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Noah
“It’s really nothing.”
Bobbi’s reassurance makes no difference. Every time my eyes settle on the bandages on her arm, I wish I’d peeled Hopkins and Baggett like a couple of potatoes. Just because I don’t have the talent with knives that Mom does, doesn’t mean it can’t be done. I just wouldn’t be able to peel off each layer of skin.
“You still have stitches,” I say.
“Stop acting like I can’t even go to the bathroom on my own. My legs work fine.”
My brain understands that. But my heart says it’s my fault she’s hurt, and I gotta protect my woman. “But the stitches…”
She lets out an exasperated sigh, but a hint of amusement glitters in her burnt caramel eyes. “I know you’re anxious because you care, but you shouldn’t be wound so tight.”
She starts toward the kitchen and reaches for a mug. “Hey, hold on. Let me.” I run over and grab it for her.
“Noah, it’s just a cut. I’ve had worse, believe me.” She points to her belly.
“You’re not making me feel better here.” Regret and fury pool in my gut. Siccing the IRS on that psycho bitch was too lenient. I should’ve just gut-shot her. An eye for an eye. Hammurabi had the right idea. There would be a lot fewer assholes around if we did unto them what they do unto others.
“I should’ve been there,” I say. “I’m never going to forgive myself for not being there for you.”
She shakes her head. “We aren’t going to rehash the past. And you know why? Two reasons. One, because that isn’t how you get to the future you want.” A soft brush of her lips over my chin. “And two, because otherwise I willneverforgive you.”
“I know. I’ve been a complete bastard.”
I pour freshly brewed coffee into two mugs and have Bobbi sit at the kitchen counter, then toast a couple of bagels and fry up some bacon. “I talked with Rachel. She said she’d pay the bill for the cake. And she also wanted to know if you’re okay. So did my dad.”
Bobbi sighs. “It’s too bad Rachel didn’t get to cut the cake. She was looking forward to doing it with her boyfriend.” A sudden smile pops on her face. “I was surprised your dad had Reggie and Floyd thrown out. It was pretty awesome.” She’s been around fame-chasers long enough to know that stuff like this can be fatal to their quest for stardom.
“That’s Dad. You fuck around, he’ll make sure you find out. And ruining a party hosted at his mansion definitely counts as fucking around.” I spread a generous dollop of cream cheese on a slice of warm bagel and hand it to her.
She takes it with a murmured thanks, looking vaguely relieved that I don’t try to feed her myself.
“So what’s up with your father?” she asks when I sit down with the rest of the bagels and bacon.
“He won’t be around that much, if that’s what you’re wondering. Not that relevant to our lives.” I’ve always known she has a particular distaste for the Hollywood celeb types, most of it formed due to her idiotic clients. I didn’t want anything to count against me, especially when I was trying to get close to her for the job. And then later… Well, our father is a cross my brothers and I bear.
She shakes her head. “So he’s really that serious about having new grandkids? Even though he already has four? I thought Joey was exaggerating.”
“Oh, not at all. Dad’s absolutely that obsessed, but only because Emmett and Griffin won’t let him near their children. For good reason.”
