“Why do you still have your Christmas tree up? It’s February,” Noelle laughs as she walks towards the couch. My tree is a tall, bushy thing made of recycled plastic, draped in shimmering garlands and multicolored lights and shiny colorful baubles.
Because you decorated it for me, I think, though I know better than to say it aloud. “Just haven’t gotten around to putting it away. It’s not a big deal.”
I set the mugs on the coffee table and let myself fall backwards onto the over-sized couch, watching as she does the same. She looks adorable in my sweats and a Vultures hoodie that’s much too big for her, a pair of thick wool socks pulled up her calves. Even with all those layers, she’s shivering.
My breath catches when she curls up on my side, her head nestled against my shoulder. The scent of her pear shampoo mixes with the one of my laundry detergent—she smells likemine. And I don’t want her to be anything else.
I hand her the remote, knowing exactly what she’s about to put on but wanting to give her the option to choose. She picks the safe choice, anyway.
“It’s really coming down out there,” Noelle says absentmindedly. Pressed up against me, she’s shivering less now. Even so, I pull the blanket off the back of the couch and throw it over her. “I hope mom’s okay.”
I can’t believe she allows that woman to take up precious space in her mind. After all her mother has put her through, I would not have hesitated to ban any trace of her from my life. But Noelle has always been a better person than I am.
“She’ll be fine. She always is. Probably got herself a new man to wait out the storm with on his dime.” My muscles go rigid the way they always do when Noelle talks about her mother, my lipspursed into a thin line. She deserved so much better than that witch.
Noelle lets out an affirming huff before taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “His name is Harry. They came by the café to try and convince me to stay with them.”
This gives me a pause. Her mother has only been at the café once before, despite living in town. I suppose I shouldn’t be as surprised about this as I am, but the implication she might actually have nurturing feelings towards Noelle? I can’t even imagine it. “What did you say?”
“I told her I was staying with you, and hid in the kitchen until she left.” A mischievous smile creeps onto her lips. “I figured risking death by icicle was still better than spending a minute alone with her.”
“That’s my girl.” A strange sort of pride takes hold inside of me. In her own way, this is Noelle standing up for herself against her mother. And that ishugefor her.
Noelle laughs. “I knew you’d like that.”
“Yeah, except the death by icicle part. Don’t like that,” I say. “You’re not allowed to die on me.”
Noelle moves to look at me. “I’m notallowed?”
“Definitely not allowed, so don’t get any ideas,” I say flatly. “We’re a package deal, Noelle. If you go, I’ll have no choice but to follow. And I still have some things to check off my bucket list.”
Noelle raises a brow. “Like what?”
Dating you. Tasting you. Feeling you around me. Loving you forever. Having your babies. Marrying you.
“Getting my name on the Stanley Cup again,” I smirk.Liar.
I hold her gaze for a moment too long, her laughter stirring something deep within my chest. When she yawns I get lost in the sight, cuteness aggression clawing at my throat like I’m watching otters hold hands.
“I should probably go to bed,” Noelle says softly.
I nod. “Alright. You go up then, I’ll sleep right here on the couch.”
A strangled sound leaves her throat as she turns to look at me, appearing almost offended at my plan.
“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed,” Noelle protests. “We can share. I promise I don’t have cooties.”
Alarm bells ring in my ears while my body wages war with my mind. I would love nothing more than to share a bed with her, to watch over her dreaming and protect her from the night. But I also know that I’m a simple, stupid man. And when a gorgeous woman like her is in my bed? My brain only knows one thing to do.
It’s the shot of a lifetime, but it’s too big a risk.
It’s a struggle to keep my voice even when I say, “I know you don’t. But I don’t mind, really. You know me. I can sleep anywhere.”
Noelle rolls her eyes. “Come on, sweet pea. I promise you’ll be fine.”
I groan, but there is no use in arguing with Noelle Adams. Not when she grabs me by the hand and leads me up the stairs, her grip like iron until we reach the foot of the bed. Despite the heating, the cold has seeped into the room, and neither of us dares to shed our clothes. It’s for the best; the more barriers between us, the better. Maybe I can find some extra pillows, build a wall to separate us.
By the time I snap out of my thoughts Noelle has already slipped between the covers, giving me a pointed look. “Never shared a bed with a woman before, Martin?”
