I’ll do my best.
Noah knew Baz was good at playing hardball. But he also knew what he was asking was not only out of the ordinary but improbable. In late February, he had been offered the job of a lifetime—the lead in his own renovation series. Apparently, the two things people love most are hating on a cheater and a good love story. The only catch was that it would be filmed every summer in Nantucket. They’d pitched it as a modernThis Old HousemeetsFixer to Fabulous, minus the female sidekick. The only partner in crime he was interested in was the woman walking toward him with a bounce in her step and a smile that could brighten a room full of serial killers. Oh, and they watched a lot ofDatelinetoo.
Noah had no interest in spending his summers in Nantucket. He’d told his agent: North Fork or no show. He wanted it to emulateHome Town—with his own twist, of course.His insistence on staying local wasn’t because he didn’t have faith in his and Dahlia’s relationship; it was that this was his home now too, and after the childhood he’d had and the upheaval of the show, he needed to finally plant roots.
“Hey, loverboy,” Dahlia said, casually hanging her arms around his neck and planting a tender but firm kiss on his mouth. It was yet another nickname that stuck. Only Kara was sworn off from using it. It was now for Dahlia’s lips only. And he didn’t mind a bit.
Noah slipped his warm tongue inside her mouth, giving her a teasing taste of what was to come—then tapped her on the butt. “Get in before I take you back inside and have my way with you again.”
“Is that a threat?” She laughed.
“Yup,” he said with a pop of his lips. His eyes roamed over her like a predator about to pounce on his prey. She had on a short army green romper with thick straps, a red handkerchief tied like a headband in her sun-kissed blonde hair, and large gold hoops that, for some reason, strained his zipper. “Now get in.”
They both climbed in, and the doors closed with a clunky metalthud.Her smile never wavered, not once, and that tickled something deep inside him. To knowhebrought that smile to her face and that she was all his still felt like a dream. It was his time to smile, and his was bigger and brighter with a side of mischief. All she knew was that they were headed to the island for a weekend getaway before the crazy season began. One last hurrah before the summer people arrived and the mayhem ensued.
Noah turned the key in the ignition, only to be met with a whining sound and a burning smell coming from the hood. Usually, an incident like this wouldn’t rattle Noah—he could fix anything—but this wasn’t a typical day or normal circumstances. He was also in a bit of a rush.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, hearing the seagulls’ untimely cries overhead. It sounded like a warning, yet he was determined to ignore it. Nothing was going to get in the way of his plans today. Not even a broken truck.
“We can take my car.” She reached for his arm. “Noah, it’s fine.”
“No,” he said, opening his door and lifting the hood, banging his head in the process. There was an anxious cloud following him. He just prayed she wouldn’t feel his heightened nerves, which felt like they were leading their own rebellion right about now. Today needed to be perfect or as close as possible. He was determined to give her the love story she deserved. His body was hunched over the engine bay. “It’s the alternator, I’m sure of it.”
“Can we jump it?” she said with a gleam in her happy hazel eyes, now standing next to him. It was one of hope and one of longing too. If he had to guess, she couldn’t wait to feel his strong, capable hands on her as soon as they got to the hotel, and that made him want to solve this conundrum as quickly as possible.
“Nay. Stay here.” With that, he closed the hood, ran inside, and grabbed his motorcycle keys.
“Harry okay?” she asked.
“Yup, he’s just sitting on the couch waiting for my uncle to come by and get him.” Which reminded him he had to figure out how to get their bags for the weekend. He grabbed his phone from inside the truck and started typing to Bruce.
Hey, I have a huge favor to ask. After you get Harry, can you run our bags over to the Airbnb? My truck won’t start. Taking the motorcycle.
Bruce answered right away, most likely because he knew how important all of this was.
No problem. When?
Maybe two to three hours?Noah wasn’t sure what would happen after, or for how long, so he had to keep it flexible.
A thumbs-up followed. With that, he opened the truck’s cargo bed, felt for the small box inside his bag, and tucked it into his pants pocket. If Dahlia wondered, he’d hope she’d think he was just really eager to make good on his promise.
“We’re taking the bike,” he said, whooshing past her like a man on a mission. “Are you okay with that, baby?” He knew before she answered what her response would be.
“Yes, of course. You know I love koalaing you from behind. And feeling my hair blow in the breeze.” She wrapped her hands around his corded waist, emulating the action.
“Oh, but what about our bags?”
“Bruce. He’s going over to the Hive anyways.”
“Well, that’s convenient.”
Noah smiled weakly, hoping she didn’t know something she wasn’t supposed to.
She’d said being on the back of his bike made her feel exhilarated and terrified, yet safe all at the same time. Noah had opened her eyes to all sorts of things that contradicted her old and stale Greenwich life, and now she seemed to be addicted to the adventure, which was all fine by him.
He grabbed their helmets from the nearby storage box and helped her fasten the strap. “You’re too cute, you know that?” His heart swelled like the ocean during a storm. He couldn’t wait to get there. It felt like Christmas mornings after Don adopted him and Gretchen. His insides buzzed with unbridled excitement. Today was the day he’d ask her to be his forever. But he still had one thing to tie up, and that was the show. Dahlia had made it clear she didn’t want to hold him back. But this wasn’t about her; it was about him. He knew exactly what he wanted and wasn’t going to settle for anything less.
Once they were on his bike, they cruised down the one-lane road that led to the ferry. Her delicate arms wrapped around his waist, her core pressed against his ass. It was the best feeling in the world. She trusted him, and in turn, he treasured it as the gift it was. Her hair whipped against his bare cheek, smelling both sweet and savory, like mint and honey.What could be better?he thought.With that, he drove just a little faster, hearing the gritty drum of the engine kick into gear.
