Page 53 of Until Then

“Right.” She laughs and turns inside. “Be out in a second, John Wayne.”

I watch her go inside. Once she’s out of sight, I press a fist to my chest, as though it might slow the ever-increasing thud of my pulse.

I can’t stop the rush, but much the same as last year, I’m almost convinced I’m plummeting headfirst into this woman's blaze.

And I have no desire to stop.

SIXTEEN

Hayley

When did the night change from a weird, desperate attempt to save face by lying about being an official couple to me not wanting the night to end?

What does Noah Hayden put in his cologne?

No matter what, it always seems as though I can’t put a cap on how much time I want to spend with the man after we cross the hour threshold. He’s a force, a constant current pulling me into his grip, but I think I gave up my swim back to shore a long time ago.

I’m spending time with a deliciously handsome man who’s rich, famous, and objectified by half the country. My outfit of choice? Black yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt with my steel-toed ankle boots.

Can’t be helped. Being shoved into the tight fabric of my bridesmaid dress all day screams for something casual.

Still, I don’t anticipate returning to Noah, finding him bonding over the fence with my grandpa’s favorite horse—Winter—and looking at me like he’s fighting the urge to devour every piece of me.

Instinct nearly demands I apologize for what I’m wearing, or to force out some condescending remark about my appearance,but the heat in his brown eye, and the blaze in his blue, turns deprecation to dust on my tongue.

“You and Winter look like you’re making friends.” I scratch the gelding under the chin.

Noah’s mouth twists into the irresistible half-smirk. He strokes Winter’s snout. “He’s a good boy.”

“Have you always liked horses?”

“Always.” Noah pats Winter’s neck a few times, then leans his back to the wooden fence. “But I used to be terrified of them too. I begged my dad for riding lessons when I was eight. He was about to get remarried and, secretly, I think I wanted to ride away.”

“I’m sorry.” My chest burns. “Do you get along with your stepmom now?”

Noah nods. “We used to more exist together. I resented her—and my dad—for a long time with how hard they both were on Rees. In their defense, my brother really leaned into the black sheep role.”

“But you knew differently.”

“It was annoying,” Noah says. “I knew who he was, but he seemed content to let everyone else believe the worst things about him. Anyway, he and our dad and Justine have done a lot of work since, Vienna helped. Jude even more. We’re one big, happy, blended family now. But when they were getting married, as a kid who wanted his real mom, I had big plans to run away and live in the Wild West. I just needed to learn how to ride.”

All at once, it hits me. These are the moments that keep me hooked and reeled. These simple truths. Call it an instinct, but if I had to guess, I’d say Noah doesn’t share these stories with just anyone.

“The problem was,” he goes on, “at my first lesson, I was too afraid to get on the horse.”

I smile. “They can be intimidating, especially to little kids.”

“The instructor had me feed them for the first lesson. Then on the second, I brushed them. Then, saddled them.” Noah tilted his head back, looking up at the satin night. “Finally, by lesson four, I trusted them enough to get on. Loved every second of it.”

“And you didn’t want to run away anymore?”

He hesitates. “Sometimes, but . . . I’d start to tell the horses about it. Sounds weird, I know?—”

“No, it doesn’t.” I blink through a sudden sting behind my eyes. “I always did the same. They’re excellent listeners. Right, Winter?”

I pat the horse’s neck, catching sight of Noah’s gaze over his nose. He’s looking at me with meaning, like he might want to say something deeper, something I’m not sure he can take back.

He clears his throat and runs a palm through Winter’s mane. “I stopped going once I got to high school and was more involved in drama and things.”

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