Page 32

Together, they headed up the icy walkway, her steps careful as sleep still clouded her eyes. At the door, she fumbled with her keys, and, without a word, he gently took them and unlocked it, guiding her inside.

The familiar warmth of home wrapped around them, but the silence was far from awkward. Ruth glanced at the clock on her kitchen wall, her eyes widening slightly when she saw the time. “It’s almost five,” she murmured, stifling a yawn. She turned to Noah, who stood near the door, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his coat. “Noah, it’s late, and it’s snowing. Would you like to stay?”

His brow lifted slightly, and she continued, a hint of nervousness in her voice, “I can make some breakfast… or if you’re too tired, you can crash here for a few hours. The roads are frozen again, and I’d feel better if you weren’t driving in this.”

Noah’s gaze softened as he looked at her. The thought of staying was tempting—far too tempting. But he knew if he stayed, the night could take a turn he wasn’t sure they were ready for. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “How about a black to-go cup of coffee instead?” he suggested. “I’ll be fine. I’ve driven through worse.”

Ruth studied him for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. “Okay.” The disappointment in her voice was hard to miss. She moved to the kitchen, pulling out one of her trusty Stanley cups and firing up the Keurig. As the machine hummed to life, she glanced at him over her shoulder. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” he said with a soft smile, leaning against the doorframe. “But thanks for the offer, Ruth. It means a lot.”

The coffee brewed quickly, then she filled the cup, snapping on the lid before handing it to him. “Drive safe,” she said quietly, her fingers brushing against his as she passed the cup to him.

“I will,” Noah replied, but as he looked at her, the warmth in his eyes hinted at something deeper—desire.

The faint scent of his cologne enveloped Ruth as the space between them narrowed. He accepted the coffee with one hand, but instead of pulling away, he lingered, green eyes locked on hers. The tension was palpable, the kind of charge that crackled in the air and made the world outside feel inconsequential.

“Bye, Ruth,” he said softly.

“Bye.” Her breath caught as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her cheek.

But as his lips brushed her skin, Ruth turned ever so slightly, and their mouths met. The soft, unexpected contact was a spark in the quiet stillness of the moment. For a heartbeat, neither moved, both caught in the surprise of it. Then, almost instinctively, Noah tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his lips firm yet achingly tender against hers.

The warmth of the kiss spread through Ruth, chasing away the cold from the snow outside. Her hands found their way to his chest, her fingers curling slightly against the fabric of his coat. His free hand rose to cradle her jaw, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek as he pulled her closer.

It was slow and unhurried but charged with an intensity that made her knees feel weak. The world around them seemed to fade into nothingness, leaving only the quiet of the morning and the taste of him—mint, warm, and intoxicating. Every brush of her lips against his felt like a question, and his eager response felt like the answer she’d been searching for.

But then, just as the kiss began to deepen further, Noah stopped. He pulled back slowly, his breathing uneven, his forehead coming to rest against hers. His eyes remained closed for a moment, as though he needed to gather every ounce of willpower to pull himself back from the edge.

“Ruth,” he murmured, his voice husky, filled with both longing and restraint. His thumb grazed her cheek one last time before he lowered his hand. “I can’t… not this morning.”

What the hell?Ruth’s eyes flew open, her heart still racing as she searched his face for an explanation. She found it in his eyes—the conflict, the care, and the promise that whatever this was, it wasn’t something he was willing to rush. And that realization made her chest ache in the best way possible.

Her eyes, wide and vulnerable, searched his. “Did I… do something wrong?”

He shook his head firmly, his forehead still pressed to hers. “No. Ruth, you’ve done nothing wrong.” His hand slid to her shoulder, steady and strong. “If anything, you’ve done everything right. Too right.” His voice was lower now, rough with his thoughts.

She tilted her head back slightly, her brows knitting together. “I don’t understand.”

Noah exhaled slowly, the tension in his jaw visible as he searched for the right words. His gaze held hers, unwavering, but the storm in his eyes betrayed him. “I want this. I want you,” he said, his voice steady but layered with an unspoken hesitation. “But I’m at a point in my life where... where I have to think about more than what I want.”

He paused, his hand tightening slightly on her shoulder, not enough to hurt, but enough to make her feel his restraint. “And I can’t stop wondering if being with me would complicate your life more than it would make it better.”

Ruth frowned, her lips parting in confusion. “Complicate my life? Noah, what are you…?”

“I’m not twenty-six, Ruth,” he interrupted gently, his tone firm but not unkind. “I’m forty. I’ve lived a whole damn life before you even knew my name. A life with mistakes, baggage, and all the things you don’t deserve to carry.” He hesitated, his thumb brushing absently over her shoulder as though grounding himself. “I’m afraid I’ll hold you back from what you could have if you weren’t tied to me.”

She took a step closer, lifting her hand to rest against his chest. Beneath her palm, his heartbeat was steady, strong. “Noah,” the conviction in her voice cut through his doubt, “you’re not some burden I’d have to carry. You’re the man I want. The man who makes me feel seen, understood. None of this is too much for me.”

His expression softened, but the conflict in his eyes didn’t fade. “And what if I let you down? What if I fail to be the man you deserve?”

Her lips curved into a gentle smile, her fingers curling slightly against his chest. “You won’t,” she said simply. “Because you’re not afraid to face this, to talk about it instead of pretending it’s not there. That says more about who you are than you realize.”

He swallowed hard, his hand sliding from her shoulder to her waist, holding her close but not trapping her. “You make it sound so easy.” A hint of awe slipped through his otherwise steady tone.

“It is.” Her eyes locked with his. “Because we’ll figure it out together. You don’t have to have all the answers right now, Noah. You just have to let me in.”

He stood still for a long moment, her words sinking in. Then, with a decisive motion, he tilted her chin up and kissed her—not a fleeting kiss, but a deep, deliberate one. His lips lingered on hers, his hand sliding to cradle the back of her head.