"Just give him the keys, Mom," Mallory says without looking up from her bowl."Let the man do something nice for you.Also, good stew.Thanks."
I do mental battle with myself, following Noah as he heads for the mudroom, sits on the bench, and laces up his boots.
"I'm really not trying to get into your business or step on your toes, Morgan," he says, his voice pitched low.
"I know, I know," I mutter."I just…look, Noah—I’ve been taking care of myself since I was sixteen.I don't know if I knowhowto let anyone…” I shrug, at a loss for words.
He stands up, tugs his pant legs down over his boots, and faces me."I get it.I really do, I promise."
I stare at him.Glance over my shoulder toward the kitchen—Mal has her spoon clenched in her mouth while using her hands to whip off a message to someone.She's not looking or paying attention."Noah, I…" I swallow hard."About the…um…before."
He grins at me, and his thumb traces my lower lip—my flesh burns where his thumb touches."Later.I think we both may need a minute to process it.Yeah?"
I nod.“Yeah," I whisper, grateful."I just—I'm not sure if I—"
"I know," he interrupts."Same.I promise, I understand."
"Wait a second."I grab my keys, slide my ignition key off the ring, and hand it to him."Just…just don't pay for the repairs or anything noble like that."
"Moi?Noble?Never."Noah pockets the key."Soon as I hear anything, I'll let you know."
"Iamgrateful," I tell him."Accepting help is hard, but that doesn't mean I'm not appreciative."
"Just bein' neighborly is all," he drawls.
I step into the garage, closing the door to the house behind me.Noah is one step down.He pauses, turns.His hair is shaggy under the back of his navy blue TFFD beanie, and his royal blue eyes are searching me… lingering on my lips.
A squadron of butterflies takes flight in my belly.
His hair is silky soft under my fingers, and his mouth is warm and wet, and his tongue stabs into my mouth, and he growls a rumbling sound in his chest as I lean into him, onto him, one step above him so my face is angled down to his.He tilts his face to one side and opens his mouth wider, and I do the same, tilting the opposite way and slithering my tongue along his and gasping at the heat and thrill of the kiss.
Noah's hands wrap around my waist, pull me to him.He lifts me as if I weigh nothing, spinning me around, setting me on the floor with my back to the rattling garage fridge.His bulk presses me into the fridge, and his body is hard and solid and hot, and his hands nearly span my waist.
Jesus, the man can kiss.
I hear myself whimper—again.
I clutch the bearded angles of his jaw, the butterflies morphing into a fiery tornado of heated need.I'm ravenous for his kiss, suddenly.Unable to stop myself, unable to even remember why I'd want to stop kissing him.
God, it's been so long.
Slowly, gingerly, reluctantly, Noah pulls away."Holy shit," he whispers.
"Holy shit," I agree.
"I should go," he whispers.
"Yes, you should,” I agree.
“Or we'll get carried away."
"Can't have that."
"No, we can't."He steps back, but his thumb grazes my lips, and his eyes linger there, and then he's stepping back into me and kissing me again, hungrily, aggressively.He yanks away again, staggering out of arm's reach with his wrist against his mouth."Jesus, Morgan.I…shit."
He whirls around, but not before I catch a glimpse of his zipper—straining to contain the bulge.
My cheeks burn, and I'm thankful yet again that my arousal doesn't show like that, or he'd see exactly how turned on I am.I'm also glad he's far enough away that he can't smell my arousal, which I’m all too certain is probably pretty pungent.
