Page 14 of Won’t Let You Get Away

My attention drifts back to Noah. He hasn’t moved an inch, staring at me with an expression I can’t read. An ache forms in my chest. Considering how intimately close we had been over the holidays, I know absolutely nothing about the man standing before me.

“Sorry, I got distracted without finishing introductions!” Ma interjects, standing and moving back to the stove. “Girls, this is Noah and Connor Dawson. Noah now runs Clover Creek Farm, and Connor owns the new tattoo shop in town!”

She practically beams as she tells us about the two men standing in her kitchen. If I wasn’t one of her children, I would assume they were part of her family. Ma talks about Tucker the same way. When he first started coming around, she immediately treated him as if he were her own.

The affection in her voice has me itching to know when she became this close to these two men. Has she told me about them before and I wasn’t paying attention? My trips back here were rare. I only came back for two days when they finally opened the tasting room and a couple of days when Tommy graduated from high school four years ago.

That ache grows as I realize just how distant I’ve become from my family since leaving for college. Shoving aside my disappointment, I suck in a deep breath and wait to see if Noah announces that we have actually met.

He finally moves, releasing me from his stare as he nods to the bottle in Pa’s hand. “I know you all like your wine, but I bought that bottle last year thinkin’ you’d like it.” His deep voice rolls over me, reminding me that he’s real and that I’m not making him up.

I thought moving home would be the easiest option. But now the happiness and excitement morph into uncertainty and chaos. My life feels as if it’s going up in flames and I’m sitting here with a squirt gun.

As dinnerand dessert wind down, my emotions spin out of control. My racing thoughts and hormones almost push me to the brink of insanity.

Noah remains stoic, not acknowledging our previous encounter or speaking a word to anyone unless directly prompted. But every time I steal a glance at him, I catch his intense gaze fixed on me. It’s as if we’ve never met, yet his unrelenting attention tells a different story.

The unspoken elephant in the room and his intentional ignorance leave me uncertain of my true feelings. After all, I’m just as guilty for staying silent during introductions. But to be fair, he’s the one who disappeared without a word in the middle of the night. Is it wrong for me to want to see how Noah handles this situation before revealing our shared secret? I barely know him and observing his reaction to surprises could give me insight into how he may handle the news of becoming a father.

“I’m a little jealous you get to stay in the cabin.” Connor muses, pulling me from my emotional spiral.

“Connor actually helped Pa with the painting retouches!” Ma gushes from the kitchen sink while Dad joins in on dish duty. Despite our offers to help, they insisted on tackling it themselves and told us to relax.

“Ah, that explains why the colors turned out cute,” I jokingly remark loud enough for my parents to hear.

“I’ll have you know I picked out one of those paint colors!” Pa laughs, playfully sticking his tongue out at me.

Leaning closer and lowering his voice so our parents can’t hear, Connor adds, “Yeah, he chose white.”

I giggle and quickly avert my eyes. Unintentionally, they land on Noah and the lighthearted moment deflates. He scowls at both me and his brother, but even in a grumpy state, he remains undeniably attractive.

Hastily looking away, I sneak a peek at Connor who watches me with a frown.

“I think I’m going to head back to the cabin to get some rest. It’s been a long day,” I announce, actively avoiding eye contact with Noah. Right now, all I need is a long, hot shower and a good night’s sleep. The inevitable conversation about our unborn child will have to wait one more day. Blurting out “I’m pregnant” to a man I barely know is not the best approach. I need a game plan. I need a few hours to carefully consider what I want to say—and then probably overthink it from every other possible angle.

“It’s dark out…” Connor comments, and I can’t help but notice how odd a frown looks on his face. The resemblance between him and his brother becomes more noticeable—more than just their height and build—but it’s in their mannerisms that their relation becomes more evident. Noah has piercing blue eyes, tall and tan with tattoos adorning his body. When upset, he’s effortlessly attractive. Connor, on the other hand, is beautifully different.

His hair is light and short, with hazel eyes that seem to twinkle when he speaks. While he is also covered in tattoos, there are colorful accents weaving through everything visible on his arms. His relaxed demeanor helps dissolve some of the tension in the room—much like a golden retriever.

Come to think of it, he reminds me of Tucker.

“I’ll drive you back; I have to feed the cat anyway,” Tucker offers, taking his empty glass to the kitchen sink.

“You have a cat?” My sister let out a snort of disbelief.

“AJ found her in his parking lot,” Tucker replies simply, slipping past Addison without giving her a second glance. He slides up in front of me with his signature grin and extends his hand. “Need a ride home, Sassy?”

“What would I do without such a gentleman around?” I playfully bat my lashes at him and slip my hand into his, allowing him to pull me up from the couch. Noah stands up, capturing my attention once more. But despite his glare at our intertwined hands, he remains silent.

Either everyone here is completely oblivious to the tension in the air, or for once in my life, my entire family silently agreed to make it through one evening without making things awkward. I had been certain that my mom would call Noah out for being moody and quiet during dinner. But she simply chatted away and gave him a free pass.

“We should head out too. It’s past Noah’s bedtime and he turns into a gremlin if he stays up past midnight,” Connor jokes, standing beside his brother with an arm around his shoulder.

Gremlin after midnight? More like some sort of sex god after midnight.

I choke on a cough at the thought. I didn’t need to be thinking about sex with Noah right now.

Tucker follows behind me as I quickly say goodnight to my family, promising to join them for breakfast. After exchanging abarely coherent goodbye with the Dawson brothers, I dash for the door.

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