Page 95 of Brim Over Boot
“What are you so afraid of?” he asks, tone gentle despite his words.
I throw my hands in the air. “Goddamn everything? I’m afraid you’re fucking with me. That you’re… That we…”
“Shh,” Noah says, standing and walking over, still entirely nude. He wraps his arms around me, his lips near my ear as my pulse pounds so heavily I can feel it coursing through my veins. “Settle, little Colt.”
I let out a grunt, and he sifts his hands up into my hair. I can’t tell if this is a hug or if Noah is reminding me he holds my reins.
Not that he does.
“There’s no rush,” he says. “Call me. Text me. I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not lettingyougo anywhere.”
I don’t know what he means by that, but he places a swift kiss near my ear and steps back, walking to his closet to get dressed. I stand in front of his door until he’s done, and then we wash up in his bathroom and head down the stairs.
My plan is to walk right out the front door, but we only make it as far as the entrance to the kitchen when Walter’s voice rings out from inside the room.
“Well, good morning.”
I sigh, turning my head to find Noah’s uncle sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of what I presume to be coffee in front of him and a wide grin on his face.
“Morning, Walt,” Noah says mildly. “You know Colton Darling.”
“Sure do,” he says, inclining his head my way. “Been a while.”
“Nice to see you again, sir,” I mumble, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.
“You having breakfast with us?” Walter asks, his question clearly for me.
“Uh, no. Can’t stay. Sorry.”
He makes a small sound of acknowledgement. “Maybe next time.”
“Walt,” Noah says, tone warning.
The older man chuckles before taking a sip of his drink. “G’day, Colton.”
“Sir.”
Noah walks me to the front door, waiting until we’re out of sight to ask, “All right?”
“Nope. Not in the least,” I whisper harshly.
He huffs what might be a laugh, his eyes damnsoftas he looks at me. Since when does Noah fucking King look at mesoftly?
“See you soon,” he says, as if it’s a foregone conclusion. “Save some of those coupons for me.”
Right. The chest is still in my truck.
I nod, and Noah stands there for another second before nodding back and rounding the corner into the kitchen. I tug on my boots, Walter’s voice carrying quietly, although I’m more than positive I’m not meant to hear it.
“Was wondering if you were ever gonna tell me about him,” he says to Noah.
Oh, God.Noah’s uncle knew? Of course he did. How many times have I parked in his damn driveway?
I shake my head, tugging on my second boot.
“I would have told you when there was something to tell,” Noah says back, whichouch. Why the fuck does that sting so much?
I don’t wait around to hear more. I tug open the door and head outside, squinting against the sunlight as I walk briskly toward my truck. The treasure hunt feels like a lifetime ago, not less than twenty-four hours in the past. How was it just yesterday afternoon that Noah and I were riding horseback together, working to solve the final clues? So much has happened since then. A world’s worth of change in mere hours.
