Page 101 of Almost Rotten

I blink away the blurriness, and when the world comes into focus, Noah is the first thing I see.

Noah, shirtless, propped up with his head resting in his hand, watching me.

Good grief. He’s so handsome.

Blue-gray eyes bore into me, but not in a way that makes me want to shrink in on myself or hide. His attention bolsters me. He makes me feel seen.

From here, I can’t help but drink him in. From the salt-and-pepper stubble on his jaw to the wide expanse of his shoulders and chest, both dusted with hair.

He says nothing as I take my time studying him.

I’m the one who finally cracks. “Hi,” I whisper.

With a bright smile, he tucks my hair behind my ear. “Hi, honey. How are you feeling?”

The question is shrapnel raining down on the lightness encompassing me.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I do a quick body scan. I’m achy all over, probably from tension and stress. My arm stings after my run-in with the pricker bush, and I can only imagine how tangled my hair is. My throat is raw—probably from screaming at Ty in the rain.

With a small shake of my head, I close my eyes.

I’m not okay.

But I don’t want to spoil the day before we’re even out of bed by admitting that.

He cups my face with a large, warm palm, his thumb grazing back and forth over the apple of my cheek. “What can I do to help?”

A small sigh escapes me.

Nothing.

“It’s okay to not be okay, honey. But don’t let last night’s hardships spoil today before we’ve even gotten out of bed.”

I open my eyes and search his face.

He’s right.

It’s a disservice to myself, not to mention Noah and Mercer, to drag the past into the present. I’ll be damned if Ty’s bullheaded fuck-up ruins another day in my life.

“Let’s start with coffee,” Noah suggests softly. “And maybe a walk? We’ll take Shiloh around the orchard. This early, there still might be frost on the grass across the vista.”

He sounds so hopeful. So earnest and sincere.

I didn’t know what to expect when I opened my eyes. Honestly, I hadn’t even considered what today might bring.

But Noah’s plan sounds lovely. There’s nothing I want more than to spend time with him here at the orchard.

“Sounds good,” I croak out. I clear my throat and wince at the sharp sensation. Hot coffee will help. Being with Noah will help, too.

He nods at Mercer. “Let him sleep.”

A quiver of relief warms my insides. Mercer’s still upset, and rightfully so. I’ll have to face him and confront the mess I’ve made eventually.

But for now, I’ll relish the calm and the quiet.

As Noah climbs out of bed, I allow myself three seconds to admire his muscled, defined backside. He has two little dimples on his low back I’ve never noticed before. They’re sexy. Kind of cute, too.

Forcing myself to look away, I shimmy toward the edge of the bed. Just as I press into the mattress, ready to sit up, a hand shoots out and hooks me around the waist.