by Louise Bay
“Oh, hi,” I heard her say to the driver.
I rounded the boot and took a seat next to her. “This is Bruce.” The London traffic was a nightmare, so I’d given in and hired a driver.
“We’ve just met. Are you just working for Noah for the evening?” she asked.
I tried not to wince.
“No, Miss, I started full time last week,” Bruce said as he pulled out.
Truly nodded and her gaze flitted to me. “You have a full-time driver?”
I shrugged. “It makes sense.”
“Will you marry me?” She giggled. “It’s a complete dream not to have to deal with public transport in London. What else can you opt out of now that you’re rich? Do you have to stand in line at the bank with us muggles or can you hire someone to do that, too?”
She was teasing but frankly, wasn’t far off base. My assistant would probably be the person who queued up for something. “If only you knew—you’d want to do more than marry me.”
She blushed and pushed at my shoulders. “You’re meant to be helping me focus.”
“I’m distracting you. Stopping you from freaking out.” In truth, she was distracting me. She’d always thrown me a little off guard—the way she’d turned me down at the wedding, the way we’d hung out together as friends before I’d left for New York. She’d had no expectations or demands of me, and the way she was so open and honest was like oxygen.
Truly was so unlike any woman I’d ever spent time with. Apart from anything else, I wasn’t sleeping with her. Maybe our lack of physical relationship was the reason I liked her so much. I couldn’t help but wonder whether she’d be more guarded in bed than she was during our conversations. I’d like to think she would be like she always was, like clear, fresh water—honest, refreshing and completely genuine. “Although I mean it, you look beautiful tonight. That dress is . . .” Her soft breasts peeked over the top of the bodice, and as she sat, light layers of fabric parted to reveal her bronzed thigh. Jesus, that dress had magic powers.
“Abigail made me buy it.”
“Well, I’m glad she did.”
A little ridge appeared between her eyes as she frowned. Was she as confused as I was? When I’d first laid eyes on Truly, we’d been in church at Rob and Abigail’s wedding. She seemed to glide in, unaware of all the eyes on her, as if she’d just assumed everyone would be totally focused on her sister. Perhaps that was why she’d been so unbothered by the attention. Truly didn’t seem to realize that however attractive Abigail was, she was just as beautiful. More so because she was so unaware of it. Abigail was a thousand women I’d met in London and New York—confident, well groomed, gym fit, and totally aware of the effect she had on men. Truly was just as beautiful but unique and completely unaware of how gorgeous she was. She was also completely and utterly . . . interesting. It was a quality I’d never seen as sexy until meeting Truly.
“Here we are,” Bruce said as he pulled up to the hotel where the awards were taking place.
“Ready?” I asked, turning to Truly.
“Not even a little bit. Can we skip this part and go and do tequila shots in some twenty-four hour bar in the City?”
“Nope.”
Her entire body sagged as if she’d really been thinking I’d say yes. Then she giggled and the sound connected right to my cock.
“I tell you what, I’ll take you for tequila shots afterward if you make it through without a panic attack.”
She shrugged. “Sounds fair, although you know that technically it will be one tequila shot. You know I can’t drink. But it’s incentive enough. Let’s do this.”
By the time I’d reached her side of the car, she was already halfway out. “Let me take your bag at least,” I said as she refused my hand while trying to negotiate the step down.
“Thanks,” she said. “These shoes are . . .”
“Sexy?” I suggested as she stepped onto the road.
“What is with you tonight?” she asked, nudging me in the arm with her evening bag. “Stop it with your plan to distract me so I don’t get nervous.”
I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay, no more distracting you.” Distraction hadn’t been in my plan. I’d just forgotten how beautiful she was, how attracted to her I was, and it was showing. I liked the way her brain worked, how she didn’t miss anything that was going on around her, and I especially liked how she never held back how she felt.
“It’s working.” She smiled. “But knock it off.” She scooped up the front of her dress and walked toward the hotel lobby. “I have to stay focused or I’m going to forget the bloody speech.”
I chuckled, and we made our way, side by side, to the venue room.
Volunteers greeted us as we headed toward our seats. We’d barely get two steps at a time before someone else greeted Truly with a hug and a smile and some piece of news they wanted to share or a question they’d been dying to ask her. They acted as if they knew Truly, even if she was convinced they didn’t. They told her how pleased they were to see her and asked after Abigail. It was nice to see her have so much attention. The spotlight looked good on her.
“This is our table,” I said as we arrived. “Right at the front.” I pulled out her chair and she took a seat.
“That was exhausting,” she said. “All those people talking to me. I didn’t recognize half of them.”
“It’s nice. They care about the foundation and your family.”
She nodded and reached for the water, her wrist so delicate, I wanted to wrap my fingers around it to give her strength.
“Let me,” I said, taking the bottle before she could and pouring her a glass. “No wine?”
“God, no, can you imagine? My speech is right at the end. I’ll have one to calm my nerves and before you know it, I’ll be funneling alcohol into my mouth.”
“Interesting image and doesn’t exactly sound like you.”
She laughed. “Maybe no alcohol now, but I’m going to hold you to tequila. I’ll have earned it if I survive this.”
“You’re going to do more than survive,” I said, completely sure of that. The thing I didn’t understand was the way I couldn’t take my eyes off her and how my hands were hot with a need to touch her.
That wasn’t who we were.
We were friends. She was my best friend’s sister-in-law. And I was here for the children of the rehab center. Truly wasn’t a girl I wanted in my life for a standard three-month cycle, which was why I needed to get myself under control. Sure, she was beautiful. And funny. And clever and great to spend time with. But that wasn’t why I was here.
THIRTEEN
Truly
I glanced up from the podium, locking eyes with Noah, as people applauded the Volunteer of the Year winner. Noah’s expression was bright and encouraging, and it was easy to imagine that he was here as my date. He’d been so attentive. Flirtatious even. It was so easy to get sucked in by his charm and those blue eyes. Which was exactly why I’d wanted to avoid spending time with him. I was way too old for crushes.
Adrenaline coursed through my body. The speech had gone off without a hitch. People had laughed at a couple of my jokes, and I’d even managed to look up into the crowd. The fact that I’d written in red pen “LOOK UP” at the end of every paragraph had helped.
I took a breath and looked away as the winner took the stage. I passed over the envelope containing the spa certificate. Vivian was one of our longest serving volunteers, and someone I’d known since I was a kid.
“Congratulations,” I whispered into her ear as I kissed her on the cheek. “And thank you for all you do.”
She pulled me into a big bear hug and began to cry.
She mumbled a few thank yous into the microphone and then I led her off stage to rapturous applause.
Noah was at the bottom of the stairs and took both our hands as we negotiated the steps in our high heels.
“You were wonderful,” he whispered as he led me to the table. “Let’s get out of her
e.”
He scooped up my evening bag and led us to the exit.
“Hey, what about the dancing?” I’d been sure he’d make me stay for the dancing part of the evening because it was the exact opposite of what I wanted to do.
He paused and looked back at me. “You want to stay?”
“No, of course not, I just thought—”
He took my hand. “We have tequila to drink.”
Noah. Tequila. Me. It seemed like a bad combination. A dangerous one. But before I had a chance to object, he pulled me through the crowd. His determination, the way he gripped my hand tightly, it was as if I was his responsibility, his to keep safe.
The car was idling outside when we pushed through the hotel’s revolving doors. Noah helped me in before going around to his side.
“Did you find somewhere?” he asked Bruce.
“Certainly did, sir. It’s just a few minutes away.”
Noah nodded and sat back, not letting go of my hand, like we were on a date. He was just being friendly and supportive but it was too easy to enjoy. “You were astonishing tonight.”
“Astonishing? Because I didn’t have a full-blown panic attack on stage?” I poked him in his arm, trying to remind myself that we were friends. That the touching was just . . . nothing.
“Don’t give me that. You know you did well.”
I grinned at him. “I’m pleased with how it went. Did you notice they even laughed at my jokes?”
“I did. And you stayed connected to the audience, glancing up all the time. I’m proud of you.” He tightened his grip on my hand.
“Thank you. You deserve the credit, too. You helped me with the speech, calmed me down before the event, gave me confidence. And you being here? It means a lot, Noah. I know you have plenty of other things you could be doing.”
“There’s nothing I’d rather be doing.” He held my gaze and swept his thumb across my palm.
This was why I’d first developed my crush on this man. It was as if he didn’t know how not to flirt. Unwittingly, he always knew how to press my buttons, what undid me, what pulled me under. I should slide my hand away, tell him to turn the car around and to drop me off at home. I had meant to be avoiding unnecessary time with him. I was supposed to stop falling back into the habit of enjoying this man’s company so much that our friendship blurred into something more. For me.
But I couldn’t stop myself. I wasn’t ready for my time with him to be over.
Bruce pulled to the curb, and Noah glanced out the window. “Just here?” he asked.
“Yep. It’s open until four.”
“We can drink plenty of tequila in that time,” he said.
“You know that more than one shot and I’ll be a mess.”
“We’ll see.” He held my gaze for a beat too long and warmth coursed through my body. This was my opportunity to say no. To ask Bruce to turn around. I should go home—to my books and my bed. Tequila shouldn’t be an option.
Noah slid out of the car before me, then helped me out after him.
As he shut the door I asked, “Bruce isn’t going to wait, is he?”
“That’s what I pay him to do.” He took my hand again and we walked into the dimly lit bar.
“All these people at your beck and call—aren’t you worried it’ll change you?”
His stare pressed against me as I glanced around at the dark room. There were brown leather semi-circular booths on the outside of the room and a few tables in the middle. Soft eighties music played in the background rather than the ubiquitous dance music that seemed to surround me whenever I found myself out at night. And there wasn’t one type of person here—not all office workers trying to forget the stress of their week or hipsters figuring out how they were going to change the world. It was a place anyone could blend into, which was the perfect place for me. Had Noah known or was this the closest spot open?
“Do you think it’s changed me?” he asked as he led us deeper into the bar. A waitress stopped us, and when Noah gave her his name, she led us to one of the round booths.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “Has it?”
I took a seat, and Noah followed, sliding so close that his leg pressed against mine, his body heat seeping through to my skin. What was with him tonight?
“I think I’m still adjusting, but the money gives me freedoms I didn’t have before.”
“Freedom to not work? Help me?”
“To figure out what I really want.”
My pulse thudded in my ears. His words seemed heavy. Important. And it seemed like we were skirting around the edges of something. Like we were about to cross a line from which there was no going back.
The waitress returned with the tequila and two shot glasses. As she went to open it, Noah held out his hand. “Thanks, I’ll do it.”
He took the alcohol, unscrewed the cap of the ornately decorated bottle, and tipped the amber liquid into the two glasses in front of us. “You said tequila. No going back now.”
I hoped I didn’t regret my request. I struggled to handle more than a glass of wine.
“To you, Truly,” he said, raising his glass. “And to experiencing new things.”
I picked up my glass, chinked it against his, and watched as he took a sip. “It’s really too good to shoot. Have a taste.”
I moistened my lips and lifted the glass. The alcohol coated my mouth like slippery, wet heat and I swallowed, the fire snaking down my throat.
“Good, right?” he asked.
“Yeah. Surprisingly so.”
I watched as he took another sip, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his long, tan neck. I held back my urge to press my fingers against his exposed skin and trace the liquid down, down, down.
I needed to snap out of it, remind myself how miserable I’d been pining after him when he’d left. I was never going to be the girl who got this guy. That wasn’t how the world worked. I needed to stop looking for signs of affection that didn’t exist. I needed not to hope for something that was never going to happen. “So, have you figured it out yet?”
“What?” he asked as he leaned back.
“What you want?”
“Right now?” He slid his arm behind my shoulders, his fingers skirting my hair, so it rested on the back of our seats.
Had he ever touched me like this? It was as if he didn’t want to break our connection, as if he couldn’t not touch me. Why were alarm bells ringing in my ears?
“Right now”—he swept his thumb across my bottom lip—“right now I want to kiss you.” He held my gaze, waiting for some kind of answer.
The room fell silent; the only sound left was the breath leaving my lungs. I had a thousand responses but they all started and ended with I want you to kiss me, too.
The only thing I could see was Noah watching me.
The only thing I could remember was how he’d almost kissed me once before.
How was this happening again? I knew I shouldn’t let it but I didn’t want to stop it.
And of course, he saw my weakness in my expression and leaned into me, pressing his lips on mine. What was left of my resolve disappeared.
He cupped my face and I dissolved under his touch. Despite being in a room full of strangers, the moment seemed so private, so intimate, as if it was my first kiss and I’d just entered a new world. A small moan escaped my throat and Noah smiled against my lips.
“You taste so good.” His low timbre rumbled through my entire body as his lips left mine and he finally released my face.
I pressed my palm to his chest. I needed some room to breathe, time, space. I had to think. That wasn’t an almost-kiss. It had actually happened this time. And it had been . . .
“We shouldn’t,” I said. I knew how deep my feelings for him had run, how long it had taken to get over him. I didn’t want to open myself up again.
He picked up his shot glass and took another sip, this one bigger than the others. The glass was nearly empty.
“You’re so beaut
iful, Truly,” he said. “And I really like spending time with you.” His hand dipped under my hair to the back of my neck, his thumb tracing the outline of my jaw.
How was this so easy for him? Was it because it was nothing? Was this what he was like with other women?
I didn’t want to be just one of those girls who floated into his world for a few months and then disappeared. He meant too much.
“Noah?” I said.
“You want to leave?” he asked, a flash of disappointment crossing his face.
“No,” I said, trying to slow everything down and regain control. But he leaned forward and kissed me, more urgently this time. The sweep of his tongue, the press of his fingers—it was all just more than before. Intense, passionate, powerful.
I pulled away. “But that’s the problem, Noah. What are we doing?”
As if my words pierced his skin, his brow furrowed. “Kissing, Truly.”
“But why?” None of this made sense. Was he just drunk or horny? I just didn’t understand how we were here. Kissing.
He exhaled, his eyes shutting in a long blink. “I just can’t not.”
I sighed, and he brought his forehead to mine. “You’re so beautiful, so kind and good . . . Do you not want me to kiss you?”
I slid my hands over his and tilted my head up. It was what I’d wanted since I’d met him.
He pressed his lips against mine again and the question faded into the background. All I could think about was how his body felt, how his skin was as smooth as I’d always imagined, and how he smelled—like lemons and the beach.
His tongue grew more insistent, and he twined his fingers into my hair. How was it possible that this beautiful man wanted to kiss me?
No matter how hard I tried, there was no way I could ever resist him.
The music changed from sultry to upbeat, and I melted further into his kiss.
Noah was the only man I’d ever wanted to see me as sexy, but all these years had gone by where we’d just been friends. What had changed? The hunger in Noah’s eyes, the way he looked like he wanted to devour me, could almost make me believe that he wanted me. Almost.
He dipped the tip of his finger into his glass, then painted the alcohol across my lips before ghosting his tongue along the same path.
