Page 12 of Sweet Valentine

“Noah?”

I shake myself out of the fantasy of Val’s mouth doing amazing things to my body and smile up at her. “Yeah?” I have no idea what the question was, and her smile tells me she knows it.

“You need to get your mind out of the gutter,” she teases before she re-asks her question. “Did you always know you wanted to be a teacher?”

I shake my head. “No, not always. For a long time in high school, I thought I was going to be an accountant.” Her eyes widen as she chokes on the wine she just drank.

“Seriously?” she asks, wiping the edge of her mouth.

“I’ve always been good with numbers, and math was my favorite subject so it just seemed like a natural progression. But then, in my senior year, I was asked to tutor some of the freshmen, and I found I loved that more. I loved watching their faces when they finally learned something they had been struggling with forever. I loved that I was the one who helped them. That’s when I knew I wanted to be a teacher.” Her eyes soften, and that sexy smirk is replaced by the most loving smile she has ever given me.

“That’s not what I expected you to say,” she confesses, taking another sip of wine.

“What did you think? That I picked being a teacher for the pay?” Her laugh rings through the restaurant, and I can’t help but join her.

“No, definitely not. Everyone with a brain knows that teachers are seriously underpaid and underappreciated.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” We lapse into a comfortable silence as we eat, and I know right then that this is what I want. I want to be able to talk to someone about anything, and then just sit and enjoy the silence. I’ve never had that before, and I’m starting to crave it.

Once dinner’s over, Val orders dessert, saying she’s heard amazing things about their cheesecake. Who am I to deny a beautiful woman sugar?

I focus on her. “So, what brought you to our small town?” Her eyes meet mine, her fingers brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. The look of sadness that crosses her gaze gets my attention.

“Well, I was living in the city. Val’s Sweet Treats was doing as well as can be expected in a big-city setting, and I was happy.” Her eyes become downcast, and she fiddles with the napkin in front of her.

“But…” I say, trying to get her to talk to me.

“But I was in a relationship, and he wasn’t okay with me owning my own business. Well, that’s a lie. He was at first. We were together when I got the idea to open my own bakery, and he was all for me reaching for my dreams. But when he saw how many hours I put in, things got harder.” I take a deep breath, knowing what’s coming.

“I was working later and later every night because I do most of my prep then. That way, I don’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn.” I nod because as a man who loves his sleep, I got it.

“We started fighting about my hours. He wanted me to be at his beck and call, and my mind was on one thing. My bakery.”

“Makes sense. You were starting a small business. Those are hard enough, but add in the fact that you have to bake every day, it has to be time-consuming.” She nods as her dessert comes, and she takes a bite, moaning at the creamy texture. I have to tell my cock to settle down. This is not the time to think about those sounds coming out of her mouth when I’m balls-deep inside her.

“So, he couldn’t handle the fact that you were away all the time?” I ask, hoping she continues her story. She shrugs as she takes another bite.

“I tried to make things work, you know? I tried waking up earlier in the mornings so I could be home more at night. But then I was exhausted and just wanted to go to bed early. Nothing worked. I guess I was naïve and oblivious to how bad things were. I thought it was just a rough patch and that we would make it through. In my mind, he was my one.” My heart sinks at the thought that she’s still in love with this guy. She takes a big swig of her wine and looks down at her empty plate, tracing circles in the crumbs with her fork.

“I came home one night, and he was gone. He took everything with him.” She looks up, and my eyebrows crease in confusion.

“He took everything?” I ask, not knowing what she means.

“Yup. I walked into an empty house. He took all the furniture we had bought together, except for the bedroom set since he hated it from the beginning and never wanted me to buy it.”

“What the actual fuck?” I mutter to myself, and Val just laughs. Our eyes meet, and the hurt behind that gaze makes my heart sink. But I also see something else. Relief, maybe?

“I know, right? I know now that he wanted a trophy wife. And that’s not me—never will be. But at the time, I was devastated. So, my best friend, Mandy, convinced me to move here and start over. Best decision I ever made.”

“I would have to agree,” I say, the lust in my voice evident and the presence of my erection telling me that we needed to leave this restaurant soon before I got arrested for indecent exposure.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The drive back to my place is quick, and judging by the grip Noah has on the steering wheel, I imagine he can feel the tension building, too. He stops the car in front of my house, and I have no idea what to do with all the feelings roaring inside me. I can only sit and stare ahead, fidgeting with my hands on my lap, hoping one of us comes up with something to say.

All I can seem to think about are his hands, and what it felt like to have them on me, making me feel things I haven’t in years. I glance over and notice that his grip hasn’t lessened, and I inwardly groan when his teeth worry his bottom lip as if he’s fighting to keep quiet. Looking at his lips makes me remember the way his mouth made me feel things I’ve never felt before. The fucked-up part of this is that I know if I invite him in like I want, it won’t end with just me on the kitchen island, and I can’t decide if I’m ready for that yet. Inviting Noah to come inside means finally agreeing to see where this goes, finally admitting that this man is more than just a flirt and not a game-changer. Because that’s what he is. My game-changer. I know he has the ability to change the course of my life, and the thought of it makes my pulse race, and my body shake in anticipation. What I can’t figure out is if I’m ready to take that step. I’ve worked so hard this last year to make something of myself without the input of someone else. I wanted to make sure I was fine on my own. I wanted to prove that I didn’t need someone in my life who could alter my plans. Yet looking at the man beside me, I wonder if I was naïve to think I didn’t need someone like him.

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