Noah’s stubborn as shit, but after four days of me coming over, she’s finally accepting my help. I’ve kept her fed, done her laundry, vacuumed, and dusted, all while trying to keep my emotions in check. Being just friends with the person who owns my soul is as torturous as it sounds, but I refuse to leave unless it’s for work. Sleeping on her uncomfortable and too small couch is miserable as fuck, but I deal with it so she isn’t alone all night.
I’ve cut my workdays down to five hours and start at seven in the morning so I can be here by noon. Her family and Magnolia visit while I’m gone, so she always has someone around. I know she hates it, but she needs to stay off her ankle for it to heal properly. She’s gotten better at using her crutches and is down to only taking meds twice a day. All good things but all highly unlikely if she were left to her own devices.
“Can you take me to see Donut today?” she asks as I make chicken pesto wraps for lunch.
“You ready to go that far?”
“I need to get out of this house. I’m goin’ stir-crazy.” She throws her head back and groans. “Plus, if I so much as flinch, you’ll be there to grab me.”
Her smart-ass tone makes me smile. “Maybe not. Fallin’ on your butt might do ya some good.”
“Aww…is someone feelin’ underappreciated?”
Setting her food down on the table, I bring my mouth to her ear. “You show me you do each day you allow me to stay in your life.” I release my grip on the plate and step back. “I’ll take ya after we eat.”
I clean up the counter, then sit across from her.
“Thank you for lunch. It smells delicious.” Her stomach growls when she takes a big bite, and I laugh when she gets pesto all over her mouth.
“When’s the last time you ate?” I lean over and brush my thumb across her bottom lip, then lick it off.
We stare at each other, and she swallows hard. “Last night when you made dinner.”
I sit back in my chair. “Gramma Grace didn’t bring you breakfast this mornin’?”
“She had an appointment in town, and I told Momma I was fine by myself for a few hours.”
“So no one was here?”
She smirks, taking a sip of her coffee. “Nope, and look at me, I survived.”
“So I guess ya didn’t hear about Craig, then?”
“What ’bout him?” She narrows her eyes, all the sass out of her tone.
“He was granted bail this mornin’.” I clench my jaw at the thought of him being on the loose after only spending a night behind bars. Sheriff Wagner arrested him two days ago after finding him at his family’s cabin an hour away. The judge didn’t consider the charge serious enough to make the bail amount that high, so now he’ll be free until his preliminary hearing.
“Great… he’ll come after me when I’m down to one foot.”
“The sheriff said he acted deranged when he picked him up. I told your brothers and parents on my way in, so everyone’s on guard now. In fact, when your father stopped by the barn, he was carryin’ his shotgun around.”
“Jesus Christ.” She shakes her head.
“Don’t worry. I’ve turned on camera notifications, so if he’s dumb enough to show his face ’round here, we won’t miss it.”
She’s silent for a moment as she looks down at her food, then back at me. “Do you still carry?”
I finish chewing my food and wipe my mouth before responding. “You really want the answer to that?”
“Probably not.”
Given my history with guns, Damien got rid of mine when I was in the hospital. It wasn’t until years later when I was on the road a lot that I got a new one and kept it secure in my truck.
After we finish eating, I help her get dressed, all with my eyes closed as requested. Then I carry her to my truck and drive the short distance to the family barn.
“I got it,” she says once she gets out, and I hand her the crutches.
It’s not that she can’t use them, but her ribs are still sore. One wrong move and she tumbles to the ground again. Though I wouldn’t let that happen since I’m two inches away.
When I open the barn door and she goes through, I’m back at her side as she hops toward Donut’s stall. As soon as he sees her, he starts whining and squealing.
Noah beams as she slowly makes her way toward him. As soon as she reaches him, she puts a hand out, and he smells it.
“I think he missed ya,” I say softly.
She smiles wide. “I missed you, too, boy.”
Noah pets his neck, then his nose nudges one of her crutches.
“That wasn’t your fault, Donut. None of it was, okay? We’re gonna get the guy who did it. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”
He leans his head against hers as she continues rubbing him. It’s a sweet moment. Their bond and unconditional trust are unlike anything I’ve witnessed before.
I stand back as they share a few more tender moments.
“Love you, boy. I’ll be back for ya as soon as I can.” She kisses him, wipes her cheek, then turns and walks toward the door.
“Are you okay?” I ask as we drive back to her house.
She stares out her window and nods.
Reaching over, I squeeze her leg. “We’re gonna get justice, Noah. He won’t hurt you or Donut ever again.”
“I wish I could believe that…” she murmurs.
She’s down right now, but I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her and won’t rest until Craig gets what he deserves.
Once we’re back in her house, she lies down and sleeps for a few hours. I rest on the couch, then get started on dinner. I stopped at the store after work and picked up more of her favorites.
She’s quiet while we eat, and I don’t push her to talk, but she doesn’t need to for me to know she’s struggling with this. Noah used to be active all day, every day, and being stuck at home with only one foot and broken ribs is a drastic change. I’ve gone through similar situations when I’d get hurt and have to stay away from riding for weeks at a time, sometimes months, while my body recovered.
“I’m gonna take a shower. Could you unwrap my ankle for me?” she asks after I clean up the kitchen.
“You’re ready for that?”
She’s been doing sponge baths to avoid standing on one foot in the shower.
“I need to wash my hair, and I feel gross overall. Just because we’re on a ranch doesn’t mean I wanna smell like one twenty-four seven.”
“Alright, but you can’t go in there alone. One slip and you’ll snap your ankle.”
“I won’t put pressure on it,” she argues. “I’ll hold on to the rail and wash one-handed.”
“Noah.” I cross my arms and stand firm. “Just let me help you. I can do your hair.”
“You bein’ in there with your eyes closed sounds more dangerous than just lettin’ me do it myself.”
I lick my lips and rub my jawline in amusement. “I’d keep them open.”
“Absolutely not.” She shakes her head.
Fuck, she’s so damn hardheaded. “Takin’ care of you and keepin’ you safe are my top priorities, Goldie. I know ya don’t like it but too goddamn bad. Your parents are countin’ on me, and I’m not about to let them down a second time.”
She inhales sharply like she wants to argue but rolls her eyes instead. “Fine. But ya sneak one little peek below the neck, and I won’t think twice about kneein’ you.”
I smirk because she’s lost her mind if she thinks I can thoroughly wash her without looking. “Deal.”
We go into the bathroom, and I offer to help her undress, but she swats my hand away and tells me to turn around. I comply, but I’m only a few inches away just in case. She winces, and I feel a sharp pain in my chest.
“Are you ready? Can I turn around?”
“Yeah.”
I do my best to keep my eyes toward the ceiling while I take her hand and help her step inside the shower.
“Keep that foot up. Get into the middle and hold on to the rail.”
I don’t want her hopping around with water on the floor, so once she’s settled, I turn the knob.
She jumps. “Shit, that’s cold.”
“Sorry, it’s turned all the way to hot. Should warm up in a minute.”
Stepping back onto the mat, I remove my shirt, then unbutton my jeans.
“What’re ya doin’?” She holds out her palm to block her view.
“You expect me to get in there with my clothes on?”
She flickers her gaze to mine before shifting away. “I hadn’t thought about that, obviously.”
“Well, if I can keep my eyes above the neck, then so can you.” I smirk, knowing she’ll be tempted.
“Fine. But hurry up and close the door because I’m freezin’.”
As soon as I’m naked, I meet her inside. We stare at each other, and I wonder if she’s remembering the last time we were in here together.
A moment that’ll be embedded into my memory for the rest of my life.
I wrap a hand around her good side and stabilize her. “Tilt your head back and get your hair wet.”
My eyes lower to her pierced nipples as she brushes her fingers through her scalp. When she straightens, I snap my head back up. “What do ya want me to do first?”
“Um…you can start with the shampoo. It’s the white bottle.”
Turning around, I squeeze some into my palm, and when I return, I find her gaze was on my ass.
I arch a brow, rubbing my palms together. “You forget the rules already?”
“No. I had somethin’ in my eye.” She blinks a few times, and I stifle a laugh.
I massage my fingers into her scalp, and she tilts her head back with a moan. The water hits her just right, and I help rinse it out.
“Conditioner?” I ask.
“Black bottle.”
I repeat the process, but this time, I take extra care slathering it into her ends before rinsing it out.
“I forgot to grab a washcloth,” she says when I reach for her body wash.
“Guess you’ll have to suffer with my rough hands.” I grin when she groans at the harsh calluses.
Keeping eye contact, I begin with her neck and move to her chest, making sure to be as thorough as possible. Her heart races under my palm before I slide down between her breasts. The temptation to touch her the way I crave is so intense, I have to count to ten in my head to keep my dick from stabbing her.
The hot water on her back steams up the shower, and although I’m nearly freezing, I don’t show it. I’d freeze to death before leaving her in here.
Next, I grab her free arm, and inch by inch, I rub my way to her ribs. It’s not until I lower my eyes do I notice how big her bruise is there.
“Fuck, Noah.”
“You’re not supposed to be lookin’,” she mouths off.
“You broke the rules first.”
My focus stays on her stomach, being extra careful not to press too hard, and then I switch to her other arm.
“Hold on to me as I do this one,” I tell her, taking her hand off the rail and wrapping her fingers around my bicep. Once I finish, I do the same routine on the other side.
I secure her back into position, grab more soap, then drop to my knees.
Her lips twitch as if she’s eager to remind me where I shouldn’t look, but as soon as I touch the inside of her thigh, she parts her lips and moans.
She’s not the only one suffering.
Her sweet pussy is nearly in my face. Restraining from touching her is the worst form of self-torture, but I continue anyway. I drag my thumbs down her leg, then gently rub the soap around her ankle and foot.
She gasps, and I look up. “Shit, sorry. You okay?”
“Yeah, just tender.”
“I’m movin’ to your other leg. Keep this foot up,” I remind her.
I start at her toes, then work my way up. When I get to her inner thigh, I dig my thumbs in deeper to massage her muscles. Her stomach tightens as I move up and carefully cover every inch of untouched skin.
Standing, I detach the showerhead and clear the soap off the front of her body.
“Doin’ okay still?” I ask as she fidgets on one foot.
She nods with shallow breaths as I put the water pressure against her clit.
“How about now?” I mutter, gripping her hip.
“Oh God.” Her eyes flutter closed as her head tilts.
Just because I can’t give her an orgasm doesn’t mean I can’t help her get there.
“Don’t fight it, my love,” I whisper in her ear as I cup the back of her neck. “Give in to the pleasure.”
“I thought you were worried about me fallin’.”
“I’ve got you, baby.” I tighten my hold. “Fall apart as much as you need.”
She squeezes my arm as she finally surrenders, and soon, she’s teetering off the edge, panting through the release.
“Thatta girl.” I remove the water pressure and press a kiss to her temple. “I’m gonna wash your other side now.”
Once I put up the showerhead and adjust the spray, I help her turn around so I can soap her back. As much as I want to take my time again, I know she’s getting antsy having to keep her foot up.
“All done.” I turn off the water, then step out to grab the towels. Once I wrap one around my waist, I help dry her hair and put another around her body.
Instead of handing her the crutches, I scoop her up and carry her out.
“I can hop,” she says when I walk toward her bedroom.
“On a wet foot? No. Usin’ crutches while you’re soakin’ wet and grippin’ a towel on? Also no.” I arch a brow. “You’ll be back in the ER, gettin’ prepped for surgery.”
She grinds her teeth and groans. “This sucks.”
After I set her down on the mattress, she holds the towel in place by crossing her arms and legs. She’s less than amused that she can’t do things on her own, and I know that struggle all too well.
“Noah.” I grab her attention, then kneel so we’re at eye level. “I understand being taken care of and looked after is hard. You’re independent, you thrive bein’ on a schedule, and you’re not built to sit around and do nothin’. Those are just a few of the qualities I adore about you. When I got injured, I hated every fuckin’ minute of being off work. But the one thing I’ve learned is that the worse attitude you have, the more miserable you’ll be. So when I’m tough on you, it’s because I know what happens when you don’t follow instructions and fuck yourself up even more. I want you to heal as fast as possible so you can get your annoyin’ ass back in the arena.”
She licks her lips before sucking her bottom one between her teeth. “That’s not why I’m frustrated.”
“Okay, then tell me. What’s goin’ on?”
“You broke my heart.” She pauses and lowers her gaze as if getting the words out is more painful than her ankle. “Each day you’re here takin’ care of me only adds to the reasons I fell for you in the first place. But I can’t act on those feelings. You’re off-limits, and keepin’ my distance is another level of torture. I don’t mean to come off as ungrateful because I’m not, but your bein’ here is a constant reminder of what I can’t have. Most girls get to go through heartbreak and cry themselves to sleep in the privacy of their own room. I can’t get over it when the person who caused the pain basically lives in my house, treatin’ me like a queen, and makin’ me wish I didn’t give up so easily. So when I say this sucks, it’s because I wanna to kiss you every second you’re here. And I can’t.”
Her voice cracks as tears fall down her cheeks, and I swear I forget how to breathe. Her words are a dagger to my heart, and I hate myself for what I’ve done to her.
I should’ve realized how hard this would be for her and not insisted on being the one to take care of her. But I felt so damn guilty that she got hurt on my watch, and I couldn’t prevent her injuries when I’d promised to protect her.
Grabbing her hand, I bring it up to my mouth and kiss her knuckles. I contemplate saying fuck it and telling Jase right now that I’m in love with Noah, but he’s not the only obstacle we’d have to navigate. Her parents would have to accept their daughter with a man twice her age and hopefully not fire me.
“I’m so sorry that me being here is causin’ you more heartache. If I could change the circumstances, I would. I don’t wanna be the root of your pain, so if ya want, I won’t stay here anymore. I’ll tell everyone I have to get back to my other clients. I’m sure Magnolia would love nothin’ more than to quit her job and take care of you twenty-four seven. Whatever you want, Noah.”
She lowers her eyes and nods. “I think that’d be best.”
“Alright. I don’t wanna leave you alone tonight, but first thing tomorrow, I’ll make sure someone’s here.”
With Craig out to get Noah, there’s no way she’s spending even one night alone.
“Can ya help me get dressed?” she asks after I change back into my clothes.
“Of course. What do you wanna wear?”
She points out a baggy T-shirt, and then I find her a pair of panties and get her settled into bed. I grab her an ice pack for her ribs, then prop her foot up on a pillow.
“You look cozy. All good?”
“Actually…” She fidgets, clearing her throat and sitting up higher. “Would ya mind stayin’ in here and watchin’ a movie with me? I know I just asked you to leave, but if this is your last night, maybe we can hang out for a couple of hours? Except this time I get to pick somethin’ out since you made me watch Underboard.”
I chuckle, threading my fingers through my damp hair and counting the dozens of ways this is a bad idea. “Overboard.”
“Yeah, that.” She waves me off, then pulls back the covers.
Crossing my arms, I say, “Depends. What is it?”
She grabs her Apple remote and flips through her apps until she lands on an image of Taylor Swift. I arch a brow, looking back and forth between her and the screen.
“It’s time you get educated on Miss Americana.”
We spend the next hour and a half lying side by side in her bed, and all I can think about is how I’ve let her down. She watches with tears in her eyes, and I can’t tell if it’s for the documentary or for us.
“Wasn’t it so inspirin’ and tragically beautiful?”
“It was really good.”
I don’t admit that I mostly watched her reactions out of the corner of my eye and spent ninety minutes memorizing every flawless inch of her face.
“Mallory and Serena make me watch it once a month.” She giggles. “And then we blast her music and dance until the sugar high wears off.”
“I thought Mallory was the Swiftie?”
“Where do ya think she learned it from?”
I laugh with her. “They’re lucky to have you.”
“I’ve been super busy this summer and haven’t been around as much. I need to change that. Ayden and Laney’s reception is next month, and I was helpin’ them plan it.”
“Well, right now, all you need to do is rest.”
“I haven’t even seen the new baby. Maybe I’ll have Momma take me tomorrow.”
My shoulders tense as I think about her leavin’ the house without my help, but I can’t hang on to that fear. She needs to learn how to get around and figure out what she can tolerate without me telling her.
“I think that’s a great idea.”
She jolts back with an amused grin. “You do?”
Lifting a shoulder, I smile. “Yeah.”
Once I help her get comfortable again, I make sure she has everything she needs, then double-check that everything’s locked up.
“G’night, Noah.” I stand in her doorway.
After a moment of silence, she clears her throat. “I wish I could hate you for makin’ me fall in love with you, but you’re the Taylor Lautner of exes.”
“Am I supposed to know what that means?”
The corner of her lips curves up. “He’s the favorite ex of Taylor Swift because he’s unproblematic and treated her like royalty.”
“Guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She smiles and nods. “Good night, Fisher.”
