Page 67 of Kissing Chaos
And while his lips tip into a gorgeous smile, there is still a shadow that flits across his expression. He doesn’t try to hide it from me, and that willingness to be vulnerable grounds me. The fact that I recognize it, but also the realization that no man has ever allowed me to witness his emotions from me.
“What do you need, Noah?”
“I’m good. I swear.”
“No. You’re always making sure I have what I need, whether I see it or not. You tend to do it for everyone without even noticing that you’re doing it. Drew, Kelsey, Declan. You’re our caretaker. Well, you and Jace. We all see it. Maybe I have missed some of the cues up until recently, but even I can see how much you’ve been struggling. You’re great at hiding it, but there’s this shadow in your eyes. There has been since February.” My hands cradle his cheeks, forcing him to look me in the eye as I say, “You’re the one who is always saying this town is all about helping others. Let them help. Let me help.”
“I’m fine, chaos.” His eyes flit away from mine before closing.
“Don’t lie to me, elevator man.”
This man is everything to me, and he’s clearly still trying to be the caretaker. But sooner or later, he’ll realize that I’ve made my decision. I’m done running, and I know what I want. Or rather,whoI want.
Leaning his head back against the rear window of the truck, he blindly reaches for my hand and squeezes it. I squeeze back, hopefully lending him the confidence to say whatever he’s thinking.
“I made an appointment with Kristen. I want to be able to give you the freedom you deserve. Logically, I know you should be able to walk around town without me needing to bubble wrap you or place myself between you and the road. I want to make sure my grief doesn’t suffocate you or hold you back. I don’t want to ever be a controlling asshat who loses sight of how lucky he is, so I’m going to work on me.”
“You’d never hold me back, Noah. All you’ve done since we met is push me to strive for things I never thought I’d accomplish.”
He cuts me off from saying more. “Yeah, but what if I do? What if, at some point down the road, I let my constant worry for your safety keep you from opening a second location, or traveling, or something else you set your heart on?”
“Honey, I think the fact that you worry about the what-ifs is a pretty strong indicator that you won’t do any of that. You love fiercely. You worry because you care.” I snuggle deeper into his chest while pulling a blanket up to my chin. “I’m proud of you for talking to someone, but I’ve never once felt like you were overstepping.”
He kisses the top of my head, a deep sigh releasing some of the tension in his posture. We sit in silence, taking comfort in the closeness while soaking in the view. As the sun starts to set, pink and orange dance across the sky, bathing the horses and the field in a soft glow. It’s peaceful out here, as if none of life’s problems can reach us.
I nuzzle back into that perfect divot at Noah’s shoulder and breathe in his teakwood scent. This is perfect. He’s perfect. Havenwood, too.
There’s just one thing missing from this crazy new life of mine. And if Noah can be brave enough to tackle his demons, then so can I.
It’s time to repair the last broken piece.
28
Jett
The drive into the city limits seems to take twice as long as it used to. It must be because of the black, anxiety-ridden hole growing in the pit of my stomach. This is probably the most impulsive thing I’ve done in at least a month. Now that I think about it, I haven’t had nearly the hair-trigger on my impulses since moving to Havenwood.
Parking in front of a large ranch home complete with a white picket fence, I take a breath and force the anxiety to settle. I need to do this.
You are worthy of love.
You deserve love.
You deserve happiness.
Embrace the chaos.
The last of those repeats in my head, Noah’s voice a soothing reminder that I am strong and capable as I knock on the front door and wait for it to open.
As the rustic door creaks, an older version of me peers around the frame. Same bright-green eyes, same fine, brown hair but with some gray mixed in.
“Jett?” my mother asks, pure confusion lining her face.
“Hey, Mama.” Shifting my weight back and forth, I bite my lip. “Any chance we can talk for a few minutes?”
She shakes off the shock of seeing me on her doorstep for the first time in who knows how long and opens the door wider. “Of course. Sorry, I was expecting it to be the twins and their friend coming home from rehearsals. They left their keys on the counter this morning. Come in. We can chat in the family room.”
As I follow her into the airy room and take a seat on the couch, pictures snag my attention. I never lived here, but the photographic evidence would suggest otherwise. Ones of me and Reece. Family shots of us and both parents. Even more of Anna and Calla, understandably. This house is a place of love. A home.
