Page 43 of Won’t Let You Get Away

“Beyond that, I want to be there for you,” I assert, emphasizing the last part before breaking eye contact.

“Listen,” she begins, leaning back enough to gesture towards her stomach. “This wasn’t what you signed up for when you agreed to…enjoy yourself with me over Christmas. I’m glad that you’re excited about the baby—I really am. But don’t feel obligated to offer more just for the sake of the baby. We can figure out how to co-parent and?—”

“The baby isn’t why I want to be there for you,” I interject, shaking my head and deciding to lay it all out for her. “I like you, not because you’re carrying my child, but because of who you are.” I pause, swallowing the residual hurt from her lack of communication, choosing instead to concentrate on her presence now and not letting her slip away. “Tell me I’m not the only one who feels this chemistry between us.”

“You’re not,” she murmurs.

“Let’s just…get to know each other. And I mean truly get to know each other. No more of that ‘nothing deep or personal’ rule we had on vacation. We have a few months before the baby arrives and I want to spend them with you.” I shrug, stepping back to finish preparing the mashed potatoes. “Or at least until you tell me you want nothing more than a co-parent for the baby.”

Bri remains silent as I mash the potatoes and then head out to retrieve the steaks.

“So, essentially, we should hit the brakes and reset?” She finally asks as I set her plate in front of her. I bend down, leaning in until our lips are barely an inch apart.

“I will go at whatever pace and do whatever you ask of me, just as long as it means that I’m spending time with you.”

SABRINA

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter to myself as I stare out the back door, struggling not to drool at a shirtless Noah working on the fence. Even from this distance, it’s impossible to miss the way his jeans fit snugly around his hips and thighs, or the way his tattooed arms flex as he lifts the new post.

Rosie hovers nearby, idly munching on grass and watching him work almost as intently as I am.

Initially, I was concerned about her presence on the property. However, we’ve since established a daily routine. It probably didn’t hurt that I researched fruits safe for horses and now start every morning by giving her a treat.

Since our dinner a few weeks ago, Noah has stopped by almost every evening to check on me and collect Rosie. With the weather getting progressively warmer, most days after work, the horse and I hang out on the porch with snacks and wait for Noah’s arrival. He often lingers under the pretense of “giving Rosie five more minutes,” but usually stays long enough to share dinner with me.

Getting to know him has been a delightful surprise.

The only problem is that as I learn more about him, my attraction intensifies—something I hadn’t thought possible given that my desire for him is the very reason I’m here.

My libido seems incapable of understanding the concept of starting over and taking things slow. It feels like I should be given a gold star each day that I resist pouncing on him the moment he’s in sight.

And now, there he is outside, working shirtless and making it impossible to even remember why I left my couch in the first place.

Noah glances up from the post he’s working on and gifts me a captivating smile. My cheeks heat up at being caught ogling him, but rather than looking away, I impulsively decide it’s time to ask him something that’s been on my mind for weeks.

As I push the glass door open and step out, both Noah and Rosie watch me. My blush deepens as I approach Noah, who leans his shovel against the fence before hopping over the broken section and meets me halfway.

Under normal circumstances, I would remember to watch my footing on the uneven ground. But Noah’s magnetic presence scrambles my thoughts.

I trip over a dip in the ground, but before I can react to catch myself, arms encircle my waist while my face collides with a bare chest

“Careful,” Noah chuckles and steadies me, but doesn’t let me go. My hands rest on his biceps, and it takes effort not to explore further.

“Thank you,” I mumble before releasing him to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear and take a step back. However, my embarrassment peaks when my heel snags on the same pesky hole and I stumble again.

Fortunately, Noah reacts swiftly and catches me. This time, he does more than just help me stay upright.

“Alright, that’s enough adventure for one day,” he chuckles.

Before I can protest, he scoops me up into his arms and heads back toward the cabin. I wrap an arm around his neck and squirm in his grasp.

“Noah, I just lost my footing. I can walk.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah, I’m not risking you or my baby getting hurt on my watch.” His hand squeezes my thigh. My heart skips a beat at his words and touch.

“Yes, but contrary to a moment ago, my feet do actually work.” Even as I continue my protests, I relax in his hold as we approach the porch. “I didn’t mean to distract you from your work.”

He strides through my back door without hesitation, heading straight for my couch. However, I tap his shoulder and make him stop.

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