Soaring with Fallon

by Kristen Proby

  She’s sexy as fuck driving this Jeep, in another pair of short, denim shorts and a pink tank that hugs her curves. It seems this is Fallon’s summer outfit of choice, and I’m not complaining in the least.

  She’s lean and tanned, her eyes covered in big sunglasses. She taps her fingers on the steering wheel as Taylor Swift sings about shaking it off.

  “I like your Jeep.”

  She grins. “Me, too. It’ll take me anywhere I want to go, it’s comfortable, and it’s kind of badass.”

  “Like the woman driving it,” I reply.

  “Damn right.”

  She pulls into a busy parking lot and has to circle a couple of times before she nabs a space that was just vacated.

  “Busy place.” I hop out of the Jeep, no door to slam, and meet her on the sidewalk. She slips her hand into mine as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to do, and we stand to survey the scene.

  There is a line of food trucks at the opposite end of the parking lot. Lines of tables covered with awnings are on the grass, and a mobile stage is set up in the middle with a band playing some country music.

  “So, to the right is all the produce,” she says, pointing it out and giving me the lay of the land. “The rest of the tables are full of crafts, non-perishable foods, art…you get the idea.”

  “Gotcha.” I nod, but I’m not looking around the park, I’m watching her face. She pushes her glasses up on her head and smiles at someone who walks by, loaded down with vegetables.

  “We can grab dinner when we’re done,” she suggests.

  “I love me some food truck food,” I say and pat my stomach, making her laugh. “Where do you want to start?”

  “I like to go and pick out some produce, and then I wander through the rest. Oh! I almost forgot my basket.”

  She hurries to the back of the Jeep and returns with a big canvas basket that’s covered in red flowers.

  “Are you planning to buy all of the produce here?” I ask, eyeing the size of the basket hooked on her elbow.

  “I usually get quite a bit,” she says with a nod. “I prefer to buy it here rather than the grocery store. It’s fresher, and I’m supporting local businesses.”

  “And you’ve never had farm-fresh eggs?”

  She sighs in exasperation and drops her glasses back onto her nose. “Are you going to judge me or help me shop?”

  “Maybe both,” I say and shrug, following her down the long line of vendors selling their wares.

  “Do you mind if I cook some dinners this week?” she asks as she feels the weight of a cantaloupe, smells it, and then places it into her basket. I take it from her.

  “If you start cooking for me, I might not ever let you move out.”

  She smiles up at me, and I want to kiss her right there in front of the whole town. Her teeth are bright against her tanned skin, and she looks happy and carefree.

  I feel the same when I’m with her.

  “So, that’s a yes, then,” she says and glances over some lettuce, but it must not meet her standards because she moves on without buying any.

  “Hey, Noah.”

  I glance up, surprised to see Ty Sullivan. He has a baby on his hip and another in an infant carrier against his stomach.

  He looks damn happy.

  “Hey, man,” I say and shake his hand. “I didn’t know you were a farmer’s market man.”

  “We live over the bridge,” he says, gesturing to the other side of the park. “So, we usually bring the kids and walk over. You must be Fallon?”

  She smiles and offers her hand. “Okay, I don’t know how you know that, but you’re right.”

  “My wife, Lauren, takes your classes, and she’s pointed you out to me before.”

  “Oh, wonderful,” Fallon says, looking around. “Is Lauren here?”

  “She and Jillian King are off checking out a new artist.”

  “Well, I’ll say hi if I run into her,” Fallon says and turns her attention to the little girl shyly holding onto Ty’s neck. “Aren’t you just the prettiest little thing?”

  “She’s tired,” Ty says when the baby hides her face. “It was good to see you, Noah. See you out at the Lazy K this weekend? I’ve been told there’s a BBQ happening.”

  “We’ll see you there,” I confirm, and we say our goodbyes.

  “You all know each other,” Fallon says as we wander through the maze of people. “It’s so interesting.”

  “Small town,” I reply with a smile. “So, Josh and Zack are my cousins. They’re about five years older than me, and Ty has been their best friend since they were small kids.”

  “Gotcha,” she says and nods but then laughs. “I think. Everyone should wear nametags.”

  “You’ll catch on,” I assure her. “You already know the girls.”

  “True,” she says.

  We end up filling the basket full of fruits and vegetables and even some meats from the butcher. A Lady Antebellum song plays as we wander through the arts and crafts, saying hello to people we know, and politely nodding to those we don’t—which isn’t many.

  Finally, with our arms full, we reach the sidewalk where the Jeep is parked.

  “I usually just put this in the backseat and then walk down for some dinner,” Fallon says, but I motion for her to stay on the sidewalk.

  “I’ve got it. Wait here.”

  She nods, and I walk the block or so to the Jeep and set her finds in the backseat, then move things around so it’s all in the shade.

  It won’t get stolen, but we also don’t want it to bake in the sun.

  When I walk back toward Fallon, I see she’s chatting with a man I don’t recognize. Her hands are in her back pockets, pushing her breasts forward, and she’s smiling sweetly at him.

  I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.

  “I don’t think we’ve met,” I say in greeting, my voice even. “I’m Noah King.”

  “Dude,” he says with a chuckle. “It’s Sam. Waters.”

  “How did I not recognize you?” I ask, shaking my head and grasping his hand. Sam grew up here, the same as the rest of us. He was older than Gray and me, but I’ve known him my whole life. “You’re bigger.”

  “Rude,” Fallon says with a smirk.

  “As in muscles, smartass,” I reply and tug on her ponytail.

  “I’ve been working out,” Sam says with a shrug. “And I’ve been taking some yoga classes from Fallon.”

  “So, that’s how you know each other.”

  “He’s a good student,” Fallon says and pats Sam’s arm. My hackles rise again. Sam looks at her like she hung the fucking moon.

  “Are you still a paramedic?” I ask.

  Because you might need to call a friend if you keep looking at her like that.

  “Yeah, and I’m on the fire department, too,” he says. “It was time to up my game with my fitness if I’m going to be rescuing people from burning buildings and all that.”

  “Congratulations,” I reply. “That’s great. How’s Evan?”

  “Who’s Evan?” Fallon asks.

  “My brother,” Sam replies. “He’s great. I’ll tell him you said hi.”

  “Sounds good, man.” I turn to Fallon and slip my hand into hers. “Shall we go get that dinner?”

  “Yes, I’m starving,” she says and turns to Sam. “See you in class.”

  “See you,” Sam says and waves before walking into the crowd of the market.

  “What are you in the mood for?” she asks as we approach the line of trucks. “I have to say, this may be a small town, but this is an impressive choice of food. Italian, Mexican, burgers—”

  “Are you fucking Sam?” I blurt, and we stop on the sidewalk, twenty yards from the food.

  Without a word, Fallon drops my hand and faces me head-on, her hands on her slim hips, her face tipped up to look at me. She pushes her glasses up on her head again, and her green eyes are hot with anger.

  “Did you just ask me that?”

 
“I did.”

  I shove my hands into my pockets, unwilling to back down.

  Fallon steps closer, narrowing her eyes. She’s a pint-sized ball of fury.

  It’s fascinating and not a little arousing.

  “You know what, Noah? Fuck you. You don’t get to ask me that, in public, after the past few days we’ve had together. If you have to ask, you’re not the kind of man I want to be involved with.”

  And with that, she stomps away and gets in the pizza line.

  I’m left on the sidewalk, feeling ashamed and turned on all at the same time. I take a deep breath and join her.

  “I owe you a hell of an apology.”

  “Huge,” she agrees and steps forward when the line moves. “Jealousy isn’t sexy, Noah. And, honestly, I thought you were better than that.”

  “Me, too,” I reply and rub the back of my neck in agitation. “It doesn’t feel good.”

  “I’m allowed to know people,” she continues, her voice soft so she doesn’t get attention from the people around us. “Men people. And if you don’t like that, we can stop this right now.”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m a dick.”

  “Big time.”

  “I should be punished.”

  “Do you have a bullwhip?”

  I stare down at her in surprise. “You’re violent.”

  Her lips quirk into an evil smile. “I’m totally kidding.”

  “Uh-huh.” We reach the front of the line, and she orders a slice of vegetarian pizza and an order of breadsticks. I order two slices of pepperoni and more breadsticks.

  To go.

  “Let’s go home to eat,” I say after I pay and we move to the end of the truck to gather our food. “I’d rather not be whipped in public.”

  Chapter Six

  ~Fallon~

  I’m pissed.

  Beyond pissed.

  I’m also hurt and frustrated and concerned that this side of Noah that he showed me at the market will become a habit. Because I won’t tolerate that.

  No way, no how.

  After eating in silence, I toss my pizza containers in the garbage, and start cleaning the vegetables and fruits I bought, putting them away in the fridge. Just as I’m finishing up, Noah comes into the kitchen.

  “I’m going for a walk,” I announce, not looking him in the face. I need some exercise to clear my head.

  “Mind if I join you?” he asks softly.

  I turn away and cringe. I’m not sure that I want his company right now, but maybe this will be a good time to have a frank conversation with him.

  “I don’t mind,” I reply. Noah grabs a can of bear spray, hooks it to his belt, and we set off down the gravel road.

  He’s quiet as we walk along, watching birds fly and listening to the sounds the woods make. It used to scare me, but now I find it peaceful.

  I take a deep breath, already starting to feel better.

  “You’re quiet,” he says softly.

  “I’m not really sure what to say,” I admit. “Here’s the thing. You didn’t ask me if I had feelings for Sam or if I had ever dated him. You asked me if I’d fucked him. No, check that, you asked if I am fucking him.”

  I shake my head, getting mad all over again.

  “So, I have some concerns about that. Either you assume I’m a slut who will flirt with and come on to a man—you—while simultaneously pursuing Sam, or you’re a controlling dick, and this is the first sign of that. Because, frankly, my grandma always said, when someone shows you who they are, believe them.”

  “She was a smart woman,” Noah says with a sigh.

  “Very,” I agree and nod. “And neither of those two options sits well with me, Noah.”

  “They don’t sit well with me, either,” he says, shaking his head. “And I’ll apologize again. I was wrong to ask you that, and I don’t believe you’re a slut. I’m also not a dick who tries to control women.”

  “Then what the hell?”

  “I saw him smiling at you, and you smiling back, and I instantly saw green.”

  “Yeah, I can see where smiling must be quite threatening,” I reply, rolling my eyes.

  “Here’s the truth of it.” He stops and faces me, his hands on his hips. He looks ashamed, his eyes frustrated. “I’ve never felt the need to claim someone before. I know it sounds barbaric, but there’s no other way to describe it. It was instinctual. And wrong.”

  “You don’t have a reason to feel insecure,” I point out.

  “No, I don’t,” he agrees. “And I should have taken a deep breath and thought about my question before I asked it.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll clear the air right here about Sam, and anyone else in town. I’m not sleeping with them. I’m not dating. I do have acquaintances, both male and female, who I smile at when I see in public.”

  “Point taken,” Noah replies.

  “I’m not the kind of girl who sticks around when a man is a dick, just because he’s also nice to me sometimes. That’s not me. Now, or ever.”

  “I’m damn happy to hear that,” he says, and I can see that he means it. “I’m not the man to tell you that you can’t be yourself. I like you. A lot. I’m attracted to you. Hell, I can barely keep my hands off you. But I also enjoy being with you, having a conversation. I’m embarrassed that I acted that way, and I’m telling you, I’m not that guy.”

  I watch him for a moment, his eyes holding mine, and I believe him.

  So I nod and take a long, deep breath.

  “Thank you,” I say at last. Then I turn back toward the house. The walk back is so much different.

  Comfortable.

  “So,” he begins, “pistachio ice cream, green, pinot gris, tea, and no dick behavior.”

  “That’s a good start.”

  He takes my hand in his, pulls it to his lips, and kisses my knuckles.

  Every time he touches me, it’s like electricity shooting through my nerves straight to my core. My gut tells me he’s telling the truth.

  My instincts haven’t steered me wrong yet.

  * * * *

  When we return to the house, Noah gets a call from Roni, asking him to come over to the sanctuary to help with something. He hurries over there, and I stay at the house.

  I’m used to having alone-time. A lot of it. And while I enjoy Noah and his company, having an hour or so alone sounds good.

  So, I do some laundry and take a shower, and then sit on the back deck, eating pistachio ice cream and watching the mountains turn pink while the sun sets behind me.

  I still can’t believe that it’s almost ten in the evening, and the sun is just now setting.

  I think that’s one of the reasons I’ve stayed in Montana so long, the long days in the summer. It’s hot outside, but I can already feel the cool night creeping in, taking the edge off.

  I glance to my right and see Noah walking back to the house down the road that connects it to his sanctuary. He’s walking at a fast pace, but with legs as long as his, that’s his normal gait.

  He slows way down when he walks with me.

  I take a bite of my ice cream, watching as he approaches. He sits on the steps next to me.

  “Everything okay over there?” I ask.

  “Oh, yeah,” he says with a nod and a glance at my spoon. “Can I have a bite?”

  I cock a brow, but load the spoon and offer it to him. He smiles, nudges the ice cream aside, and lowers his lips to mine, kissing me deeply, sinking into me.

  “Delicious,” he says when he pulls away.

  I drop the spoon into the almost-empty tub, set it aside, and straddle him, ignoring the press of the wooden deck on my knees as I fuse my lips to his. His hands roam up and down my back and then move to my ass. With a firm grip, he lifts me easily, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me into the house and through the living area to his bedroom.

  “If this isn’t where you want to take this,” he murmurs as he buries his face in my throat, “I need to know ri
ght now.”

  “We’ve been heading here for a while.” I reply and laugh when he dumps me on the bed. I bounce twice and scoot back, watching him shuck his jeans and T-shirt, unabashedly checking out the view before me.

  Tanned skin. Long, lean muscles. Abs for days, and a smirk on maybe the most handsome face I’ve ever seen.

  Yeah. We’re doing this.

  “You’re still dressed,” he says, leaning over to kiss his way up my leg. He reaches the hem of my shorts and nudges his way under it with his nose, sending shivers over my skin. “And so soft.”

  I reach to unfasten my button, but he stops me, popping it open with his teeth and then peeling the shorts down my legs and tossing them over his shoulder.

  His brown eyes whip up to mine.

  “Do you always go commando?”

  “Usually,” I say as if it’s no big deal. He swallows hard.

  “Jesus, I’ll never be able to keep myself from stripping you naked,” he mutters, his eyes roaming over the bottom half of my body. “No bra, no panties.”

  “My breasts aren’t impressive enough to warrant a bra.”

  “Your breasts are fucking impressive,” he growls, pulling my tank over my head and tossing it in the same direction of my shorts, then latching on to a nipple and sucking hard.

  My hips come up off the bed, but he spreads my legs and drags his fingertips up and down my inner thighs.

  My God, the way he touches me sends me into crazytown.

  “They’re so damn responsive,” he murmurs, plucking a nipple with his lips and then moving on to the other one. His fingers dance over the lips of my labia, and my hips rotate. “Your body is amazing.”

  I smile and bury my fingers in his soft, dark hair. I want him now, but I also want to take our time, enjoying every touch, kiss, and amazing sensation.

  Noah kisses his way down my belly and spreads my legs wider, seemingly enjoying the view.

  “So pink,” he says with a grin before lapping his tongue through my folds, his eyes boldly on mine. “And delicious.”

  My God, he’s going to kill me.

  I fist the bedsheets and arch my back, and then he’s suddenly gone, riffling through his bedside drawer and coming back with a sealed box of condoms.

  “I was optimistic,” he says with a grin, opening the box and ripping a condom free from the others. He tears it open with his teeth.