Page 29 of Duty and Desire
“Don’t you understand that this is what he wants? He wants to get a rise out of me. He wants to upset me.” I pull on the door handle again with no luck. “He doesn’t get anything else from me. He doesn’t get anything from you.”
“Move,” he instructs, and my eyes fly up to his.
“Please, don’t do this,” I beg, hating Conner more than I ever have, and that’s saying something since I already despised him.
“Step back, baby,” Noah orders quietly, and I do, even though I feel completely defeated. Dropping my gaze to the ground, I feel his mom’s arms wrap around me. A second later, she lets me go, and before I have a chance to question why, Noah’s huge body is wrapped around mine, and he’s embracing me.
“Thank you.” I sag against him, overwhelmed that he listened.
“I still want to kick his ass.”
“He’s not worth it.” I tip my head back when his fingers go under my chin, putting pressure there.
“He’s not worth it, but you are. You get that, right?” he asks, and tears fill my eyes. “Don’t cry.”
“I won’t.” I press my face into his chest so I can suck in a deep breath. The truth is that his words hit a part of me I didn’t evenknow was vulnerable. For so long, I’ve felt like I’m not worth much of anything. That I’m a burden my family has just dealt with because that’s what they’re supposed to do. It’s horrible to feel like nothing more than an obligation to people.
“Go inside with Mom,” Noah says after a long minute, and every muscle in my body gets tight. “I’m not going after him.” His lips rest against the crown of my head. “I’m just going to pull my truck back into the garage.”
“Come on.” Rebecca slides her arm through mine. I let Noah go with a nod and head into the house with her but stop right at the back door. “He’d never lie to you.”
“I—”
Her quiet laughter cuts me off, and she takes my hand, dragging me down the hall. “He’s always been brutally honest. I’m sure you’ll find that out eventually because him being truthful doesn’t always feel great.” She grins. “That said, if he says he’ll do something, he’ll do it, and vice-versa.” Her expression turns serious as she studies me. “Are you okay?”
“My ex is a jerk.” I take a seat at the counter and watch her pour two cups of the wine Noah opened.
“I’ve been there, done that, sweet girl. And you’re one hundred percent right about feeding into him. Guys like him get high off making other people miserable.” She passes me one of the cups. “Noah’s daddy was just like that, a liar and a master manipulator. That’s why my boy is truthful to a fault and overprotective of the people he cares about.” Her gaze on me goes soft, and my pulse quickens.
I lift my cup to my mouth, taking a sip of my drink as an excuse to get out from under that look. The red I always keep stocked isn’t as good as the champagne I had last night, but that’s probably a good thing since champagne tends to go to my head.
When I hear the back door open, my muscles instantly relax. Noah is back inside. As soon as he reaches the end of the hall at the entrance to the kitchen, his eyes meet mine before they scan my face.
“I’m gonna head up and finish with the couch. Are you two good?” He glances from me to his mom.
“We’re good.” She smiles, and with a jerk of his chin, he heads through the kitchen. A second later, I hear his boots hit the stairs. “Are you still up for making your scones?” Rebecca asks me.
“Yes.” I get off my stool and wash my hands again, then Rebecca and I make blueberry-lemon scones that rival anything I’ve ever purchased from any bakery I’ve been to. Later that night, long after Rebecca has left and I’m in my new bed alone, I lie in the dark, not thinking about my ex. Instead, I think about the kiss Noah and I shared and how much I enjoyed every single second I’ve spent with him.
Which means I fall asleep happy and content, which is something new for me.
CHAPTER 14
STUFF
Bridgett
With a cup of coffee in hand, I look up from my computer when the back door opens, then frown when a multitude of voices travel down the hall, along with the sound of shuffling and banging. Curious about what’s going on since Noah came downstairs about twenty minutes ago and went straight outside, I get off my stool and start to head toward the voices.
I don’t make it more than a few steps because a man I don’t know, carrying a stack of familiar-looking shoeboxes, blocks the hall to the garage door.
“Do you know where these go?” he asks, and I start to open my mouth but snap it shut when Noah comes up behind him, holding an armful of clothes that, again, look familiar.
“Just drop everything in the living room, John.”
“Um…what’s going on?” I ask Noah while another man followshim, his arms lined wrist-to-shoulder with different bags that I know for sure are the ones I left behind when I moved out of the house I shared with Conner. And I know this because when I was in London a couple of years ago, I purchased twoLouis Vuitton bags at Hayes and had them both hand-painted with a pretty floral design by an artist in the store.
“The guys got your shit.” Noah drops what’s in his hands over the back of the couch, then turns to face me. “Or most of it.”
