No Falling Allowed (No Kissing Allowed)

by Melissa West

  “He was helping someone out.”

  “Oh, that makes more— Wow, he can’t stop staring at you. It takes a lot to turn Noah’s head, and he practically fell over the moment he saw you. Must have been a heck of a meeting.”

  Before I could stop myself, the memory of him behind me came to mind, our bodies pressed together, his lips on my neck, his hands on my—

  “Waaah!” My heel hit something slick, and just like that I was airborne, my arms spinning to catch air like it could somehow steady me, but oh no. There was no preventing this disaster. I hit the ground with a thud, my top teeth biting into my bottom lip so hard they drew blood.

  “Oh my God! Grace, are you okay?” Lindy kneeled beside me, and I considered blurting that no, I wasn’t all right. Not even a little bit. I was angry and flustered, and yeah, a little horny. But I wasn’t okay.

  “I— Yes, sorry, I must have slipped on something. Wow, how embarrassing.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She reached for my hand to help me up as Annalise and Mary Beth appeared beside her, concern on both their faces.

  “Grace had a headache building on the way over, and clearly it’s become a monster. Why don’t you head on to the bed and breakfast and rest? We can start fresh tomorrow.”

  “Oh, no, I’m fine. Really. Perfect. Perfectly fine.”

  But I could see in the two women’s expressions that their mom hats were firming in place, and they wouldn’t allow any of this me staying business. I felt a pang of regret for screwing this up so completely, but in truth, I needed to get away from here as soon as possible so I could think up a game plan for how I would survive the next few days.

  “I can walk her over,” Lindy said, but then a deeper voice spoke up from behind us.

  “Why don’t you let me? I need to deliver a few takeout orders anyway, and you need to talk wedding crap.” Lindy’s face switched from kindness to aggravation so fast I would have thought someone had flipped a switch, and he quickly amended his comment. “Err—what I meant to say was, talk about essential details pertaining to the most important day of your life. Of the whole town, actually. I know it’s going to be one of the most important days of my life.”

  At the humor in his voice, Lindy relaxed. “Fine.” And then once I was up and talking to Annalise, still refusing to face him, I caught her whisper, “And when you return, you can tell me exactly how you know my new wedding planner.”

  I tried to tune them out so I could make a mental note of what Annalise was telling me. “You’re in good hands with Noah. He’s a gem…and adorable, if I do say so myself.” She smiled in his direction, and I contemplated vomiting right there. I’d made an idiot of myself on my first real day of my new job, and the person who caused it was a gem in my boss’s eyes. Fantastic.

  “I’m sure I can find it on my own.”

  “Still, I’d feel better if someone walked you. I’ll pop by your room in an hour or so, and we can run through the schedule for tomorrow.”

  I nodded along, my brain still mush from the sudden wrecking of my world. “Absolutely.”

  Annalise, Mary Beth, and Lindy went back to their table, and I started for the door, still unable to look at him. One glance had landed me on my ass, so I couldn’t take the chance of embarrassing myself in front of the others again.

  I waited until we were outside, down the two steps, and walking along the gravel path to the main road before I spun to face him, my arms crossing despite my intention not to come across defensive.

  “I thought your name was Hunter.”

  “It is.” He motioned to the porch, and from this angle I could clearly see the sign—Hunter’s Place. “Noah Hunter. Most everyone in town just calls me Hunter.”

  I took in the sign, the building again, the accuracy there, and it pissed me off all the more. “So what is this place exactly?”

  “Half bar, half restaurant, I guess. We do a little bit of everything.”

  I nodded, before flipping my gaze to his, and instantly I wished I hadn’t. Those endlessly blue eyes could level me with one look, and right now, they were staring at me with the weight of a thousand apologies.

  “Grace…”

  “Don’t you dare do that. Don’t look at me like you’re sorry.”

  “I am sorry. If you’d let me explain. See, I—”

  “Didn’t care enough to stay.”

  “No! It wasn’t—”

  “Or let me guess—some major emergency, right?”

  He threw up his hands. “Yes, exactly.”

  “Yet, you didn’t think to leave a quick note? Or wake me to say something had come up?”

  “It was the middle of the night, and you were just laying there looking so…” He shook his head as he trailed off.

  “Don’t. Just don’t.” My eyes fell to the gravel. Who the hell used gravel anymore? Stupid town with its stupid man. I needed to pick myself back up, dust off my pride. “It doesn’t matter anyway. It was one random night, right? Nothing more. Nothing to discuss.”

  The air smelled like fresh flowers, as though the town was surrounded by gardens. The whole thing, from its scent to the street signs, was sweet and charming. I wanted to take it in, check out the place so I could speak about it intelligently to Annalise. But in that moment, all I could do was cope until I made it to the bed and breakfast, where I would drown in a hot bath while I figured out how to exist in a town with Noah Hunter in it, without showing how badly he’d hurt me.

  I felt his stare long before he spoke, like he was trying to see through my words and into their deeper meaning, into my soul. Finally, I glanced up, wishing with all my heart I wouldn’t find those deep blue eyes staring back at me. It was that night all over again, him seeing and reading so much more than I wanted to share. So much more than anyone else had ever seen. I thought maybe he would apologize again, and I found myself eager to hear it. But instead he said, “Right. Nothing more.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Noah

  I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.

  Like some addict with the next bottle in sight, I kept glancing at her, taking in some new feature I hadn’t noticed that night. The way her hair shone like even the sun wanted to touch it. The way her skin held no imperfections, not even the tiniest of freckles. The way her shoulders would slump, only for her to jerk them back into place, as though her emotions craved control but her brain refused to allow it. I wondered if I’d had as much impact on her as she’d had on me.

  That night I’d been living in a fantasy world, where there was no responsibility, no worries. And then those texts about Jonah had sent me spiraling back to Earth. Who knew why I hadn’t left a note or said a quick good-bye. I wasn’t thinking, was stupid and senseless—as always when it came to Jonah. But now she was here…

  I smiled as I took the wide steps up to the red front door of Southern Soul B&B, the only place in town to stay the night other than someone’s extra bedroom or the fancy Marriott they’d built just across the Cricket Creek line.

  “What are you grinning at?” Grace barked, her glare matching her tone. “There’s nothing to grin at here.”

  “Oh, I disagree.” I let my gaze slip down her sleeveless top to her flowing skirt to the gold sandals on her feet, before flipping back up to meet that pretty glare of hers again. “There’s plenty to grin at.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and my smirk could have lit the whole damn town. I knew I shouldn’t mess with her, but hell, she stood right there, hands on her hips, looking so adorably mad, and all I wanted to do was pull her to me and see if she still tasted like cinnamon and spice.

  “Is that supposed to be funny?”

  “To me or to you?”

  She stormed past me and into the B&B, where everyone working around the front desk all but stopped cold to stare, including seventeen-year-old Marty, who never failed to show his maturity level.

  “Good God you’re hot.”

  Here we go… I sighed. “Marty Long, meet Grace…um?”
<
br />   She gritted her teeth, and I had to bite back a laugh. It reminded me of our first meeting at the Met, her all high and mighty, me as careless as ever. It was a clash of personalities, and yet, when our eyes finally locked that night, the air had swept from my lungs and I was seconds from begging her to give me a chance.

  “Soaring. Grace Soaring. I believe I have a room.”

  Ms. Penny arrived then to save us all from Marty’s drooling. Not that I could blame the kid. Seventeen-year-old boys wore their hormones like capes, and Grace had to be the hottest girl to step foot in Cricket Creek. I struggled to keep from drooling, too.

  Still, Penny, forever a mother, hit her son on the back of the head. “Stop staring and go bus those tables.” She motioned to the dining room off the main entrance, and Marty reluctantly headed to finish up his work. Penny then turned her charms on Grace. “So nice to have you, honey. I read all about you in Newsweek a few months ago.”

  Grace stiffened, and I tried to remember if she’d mentioned anything that’d tell me why they’d chosen her, of all people, to write about. Sure, her place had been fancy even by New York City standards, but I figured working at the Met must pay a ton. Obviously, this was something else.

  “Newsweek?” I asked, but Grace refused to look at me.

  “May I check in, please?” she asked Penny, who looked momentarily taken aback by Grace’s formal nature, before nodding and going to work at her computer.

  “Here you go, honey. Second floor, room two B. Dinner at seven if you’re interested, breakfast from eight to ten. You let me know if you need anything at all, okay? Your bags should already be there.”

  Grace reached for her key. “My bags?”

  “Yes, Annalise had them brought over when y’all arrived.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “I can walk you to your room if you need help?” I asked, hoping for a little more of her time, the urge to beg creeping back up.

  “Yeah, I don’t think so. I’ve had my fill of lies for one day, thanks.” Then she turned and started up the steps before I could say another word.

  As soon as she was out of earshot, Penny leaned in closer. “You know who she is, don’t you?”

  I forced myself to look away from Grace and over to Penny. “Um…Grace Soaring?”

  Penny shook me off. “Not her name, silly. Who she is.”

  “Yeah, I’m not following.”

  “That’s Grace Soaring, as in Soaring Industries. As in the mega company.”

  I shook my head. I knew a shit-ton about everything related to running a bar, how to scour the lake for the best fish, hell, even how to clean a deer, but Soaring Industries or anything else to do with the business world? Count me out.

  “She’s the only daughter of the owner and CEO, Rick Soaring.”

  “So.”

  “So, that girl who just walked up those steps isn’t just rich. Her father is a billionaire. As in Billionaire.”

  I tried to shrug it off, but it was a struggle. So Grace’s father had money. Clearly, she was working and not just living off her family’s wealth. I could appreciate that. But I did wonder why she was Lindy’s wedding planner when she worked at the Met. “So? Obviously she’s doing her own thing or she wouldn’t be here.”

  “Yeah, until she joins the family business. Though she’s worth millions already.”

  “Already?”

  “Boy, aren’t you listening? That girl is a multi-millionaire, and she’s not even twenty-five.”

  I glanced back at the stairs, Grace’s legs now the only thing I could see. Damn. Millions. I couldn’t fathom that kind of money. Mom and Dad had taken out a small life insurance policy that helped with the bills and supplied all we needed, but I would never in my lifetime come anywhere close to the word million, and Grace had millions, plural, in her back pocket.

  Suddenly, I felt like an idiot for joking with her before, for thinking she gave two-shits about me or our time together.

  “Yeah, that’s right.” Penny pointed at me. “I ain’t your mama, but if I were, I’d tell you to take those roaming Noah Hunter eyes of yours elsewhere. She’s in town for two days, and then she’s going back to that high-profile life of hers.”

  “Right.” I tapped the wooden desk, its worn sides suddenly noticeable, the creak in the old hardwoods louder as I adjusted my feet.

  Penny leaned one way, then the other, then rose onto her toes. “Where are the takeout orders?”

  I shut my eyes tight. “Damn it, sorry, Ms. Penny. I forgot them at the bar. I’ll run back.”

  She tsked. “Better get that head of yours on straight before you lose your mind to a girl who’s just going to leave.”

  “Right.” I peered over at the stairs again, our night together feeling that much farther away. Maybe it was a dream.

  “Noah.”

  “Hmm?”

  “The takeout.”

  “Right.”

  And then I walked back out of the B&B, at a loss as to how I ever thought a girl like Grace Soaring would give a second thought to a guy like me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Grace

  I woke with renewed energy, eager to start my day and kick ass as the best wedding planner in the world.

  It had taken a surprisingly small amount of time to fall asleep thanks to a hot bath and a determination to keep my mind off unwanted things—or rather, people. I’d spent my entire life ignoring my true emotions, and I would harness that ability here and walk out of this place with my head super high and my face as still as a painting. I could do this. No problem. How much could one night affect a person anyway?

  I reached for the nightstand and clicked on the lamp, and my eyes immediately landed on a slew of pamphlets and menus for shops and restaurants in town. A menu for Hunter’s Place was on top. Great. Utterly fantastic.

  Yanking it off the table like it’d screwed me over instead of Noah, I studied the logo. There was no mention of the owner, but I assumed Noah’s parents ran the bar while he helped out or worked there. I’d guessed right when I first met him—he was just a bartender with no ambition, which made it a little easier to push aside those unanswered questions nagging at me. I didn’t date guys like Noah Hunter. My parents would have a heart attack. No, those rules that I’d abided by my entire life regarding the kind of guy I could date would serve me well here.

  Still, I was curious, so I opened up the menu to see what they had to offer, and of course, they served fried food and calories and little else. But then, what did I expect?

  I had just prepared to put it away when I caught a note at the bottom—Serving local, organic, and farm-fresh foods.

  Well, that was unexpected. Either Noah’s parents, or whoever the owner was, supported local farms or were health conscious enough to choose to serve only organic foods. Either way that earned a point on my respect card. Still, that had nothing to do with Noah, who by all accounts was just a bartender. A bartender. I tried to push the word into my subconscious so that hint of longing in me would turn to disdain. It wasn’t working.

  Frustrated, I tossed the menu back to the nightstand and peered around the room. There was a faint, lemony smell in the air. It was adorable, in a shabby chic kind of way, and I found myself drawn to the intentionally aged furnishings, the pale blue and gray color choices.

  The bed’s headboard was white with worn, dark edges, the center a bookshelf stacked with classics like Wuthering Heights and Pride and Prejudice. The singular dresser across from it was more of an armoire with the TV fixed inside the top and four drawers below it for personal belongings. A small navy blue desk and a white chair with the same distressed edges as the bed sat in front of the window to my right. The walls had been painted a pale gray, and beyond a singular painting over the bed of a woman walking in a field of flowers, her hands outstretched to glide through them, nothing hung on the walls. It was simple and yet peaceful, exactly how a room at a bed and breakfast should feel.

  With one long stretch, I popped
out of bed, anxious for some coffee and a to-do list, when I walked over to the window, pushed aside the sheer white curtain panel, and realized with horror that from this vantage point, directly across from my room, stood none other than Hunter’s Place.

  My eyes narrowed in on the building like they had the menu moments before. But then I caught a red Jeep coming down the gravel drive, and I knew even before he opened his car door that it was Noah. The Jeep parked around the side, then the door swung open, and a jean-clad leg stepped out. My breath stilled in my lungs, full of anticipation, and then he was there, dressed in another T-shirt, and I found myself straining to see what was on it—until he turned around and I ducked down like an idiot.

  “Come on, Grace. Pull yourself together.” And now I was talking to myself.

  Still, my current uneasy state wouldn’t allow me to stand back up, so I kneeled and peeked across the windowsill to find him still staring in this direction. Tingles broke across my skin, spreading out from my neck and down my back. I wondered if he was searching for me, but then that was stupid. Why would he be? He agreed that our night together had meant nothing. But then, so had I. And of all the lies I’d told myself and others over the years to save face, that single lie might have been the greatest of them all.

  Turning, he went through a side door, and I stood back up, not realizing until then that my pulse was racing. He hadn’t touched me, hadn’t even spoken to me, and yet a single look sent my heart into a flurry. How in the world would I survive the next two days?

  Slumping against the bed, I reached for my phone to check my email, only to discover a slew of one-line texts from Cameron, like she was too frustrated to type out an entire message.

  You’re not going to believe this.

  She dropped me!

  Weeks before my wedding!

  Who does that?!

  Please call me!!!

  I clicked the last text, chose call, then waited for Cameron to answer. It took half a ring. “Thank God!”

  “Hey, what happened?”

  “She dropped me!”