Page 33 of The Forever Formula
He was tender and kind, but abundantly masculine. The combination was intoxicating.
Noah took slow steps, walking us back a few paces until I bumped into the pool table. He gently lifted me onto it until I was sitting on the edge.
It was like we were moving in slow motion. Savoring. Testing.
I still couldn’t believe I washere—kissingNoah. But it felt completely natural, like the most normal thing in the world. There was no weirdness, no awkward bumbling. It was as if no time had passed since we’d been together before.
He pulled back and looked at me. His thumb pressed against my lips as he studied me with a serious look, before he dipped back down to kiss me in that same maddeningly measured pace.
Even though electricity was shooting through me uncontrollably, I let everything linger. Each kiss, each tiny motion of our bodies as they came together. Him inching his way closer, my legs parting to make room, him leaning into me until my back was pressed flat against the table and he had to shift me up so he could crawl on top of me.
He rolled his hips, creating a fantastic pressure between us, and I let out a soft pleasure-filled sound. Noah’s mouth moved to my throat where he left wet, sucking kisses.
The moment was so incredibly tender, that the sound of knocking on the door on the first floor almost made my heart explode. It was like waking up from a nightmare, the kind when you realize you’re dreaming and you try to scream, and your heart is instantly pounding but you can’t react just yet.
Noah snapped up from me, his head tilting to the side as we listened for the knocking again.
His eyes met mine, and we both seemed to silently ask each other who it could be.
One of his brothers, maybe? They had terrible timing, whoever it was.
With a frown, Noah removed himself and then me from the pool table. He adjusted thesituationin his jeans, and we headed up the stairs to the front door.
When Noah opened it, a woman was standing there, her hands on her hips. Who the hell was that?
“CJ. What are you doing here?”
His tone was calm, but it didn’t help my stomach feel any less sick. After all, it was almost nine at night, and a strange woman was at his front door.
“I thought you were coming out tonight,” she said as she tapped her toe. “But I can see you were entertaining.” She leaned around Noah to look at me.
I stood with my arms folded protectively over my chest, feeling completely out of place and a little shell-shocked.
“And you didn’t think to text me?” he asked.
“I tried, but you didn’t respond.”
“Then I guess that means I’m not coming out tonight,” he said with a certain finality.
Just then, my phone rang, and I was grateful for the distraction. My purse was nearby, and I grabbed my phone.
I was surprised to see Mr. Davis’s number pop up. It seemed odd he’d be calling me so late. The only reason he’d called in the past was to make arrangements for Grandpa’s ashes—but that was all done now.
“Hello?” I said as I headed toward the kitchen to get away from the surprise visitor.
“Rachel. Thank God. I didn’t know who else to call.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What ... can I do for you?”
“It’s Tahlia,” he said with no other greeting. I knew that was the name of his granddaughter, but I didn’t know much else about her.
“Is she okay?” I asked, immediately going into nurse mode at the panicked tone of his voice.
“She’s in labor.”
It seemed like it took all his effort to communicate this much to me. I understood, though, from my years in the hospital. When people were worried about their loved ones, all the pleasantries went out the window, and sentences either grew really short or really long.
“How far apart are the contractions?” I asked.
