Page 24 of Duty and Desire
Not to mention, I’m still technically married and should not even be interested in someone else. I mean, there must be a time limit on how long you have to wait after a divorce to start lusting after another man. And with Conner still dragging his feet regarding signing the divorce papers, it will likely be a few more weeks before that clock starts ticking.
“What are you thinking about?” Noah walks into the living room after getting off his phone.
“When I can start dating again,” I answer without thought, then cringe. “Not that I’m interested in anyone. I was just wondering when a person would do something like that,” I blabber. He sits on the couch next to me, not on the other side of the sofa where heshouldbe.
“Whenever you’re ready.” He leans his head back against the cushion and closes his eyes.
“What?”
“You should start dating whenever you feel ready. There isn’t a time limit.” He stretches out his long legs, and when his thigh rubs against mine, I bring my knees to my chest.
“I’m still married.”
“You don’t have a ring on your finger.” He rolls his head my way and pins me with a stare. “You going back to your ex?”
“Absolutely not.”
“That’s what I thought.” His gaze drops to my mouth for the briefest of seconds, causing my heart to pound. “Life is way too fucking short to live on someone else’s timeline, babe. Do whatever the fuck makes you happy.”
“As simple as that?”
“As simple as that.” He holds my stare, and I nod. Maybe he’s right. Perhaps I need to stop caring what other people think and just live my life in whatever way makes me happy.
CHAPTER 12
CHERRIES
Noah
I watch Bridgett as she sleeps with her head on the armrest of the couch, her hair down around her shoulder, and her cheeks pink from the champagne she drank. Even passed-out drunk, she’s adorable. Actually, she’s adorable all the time, which has become a problem. When I didn’t know her as anything more than Aiden’s little sister, it was easy to brush off my attraction to her.Now, not so much.Whenever I’m around her, the urge to kiss her or touch her is almost unbearable.
I want her. I want to know what she tastes like. Want to know if her skin is as soft as it looks. And I want to know what sounds she’ll make when I go down on her or fuck her. And all of that would be easy enough to get over, but I don’tjustwant to fuck her. I’ve grown protective of her and have come to crave her presence. She’s a mystery I want to solve, but with her being so skittish around me, it’s almost impossible to figure her out.
That said, I’ve figured out that her family has not looked out for her, including my best friend, which is probably why she ended up married to a man like her ex. I’ve learned that she’sgot a soft heart, she’s funny even when she’s not trying to be, and she’s afraid of not earning her place, no matter where that is. I didn’t expect to like her, not when we come from such vastly different backgrounds, but I do. And I honestly don’t know what to do with that.
I told her this evening that life is too short to live on someone else’s timeline, but I’m not sure I could take my advice when it comes to her. She’s still not divorced from the dick she married, and even if I know she’s attracted to me, I’m not sure taking advantage of that would be the right move. Going too fast could blow up in my face, but waiting until I think she might be ready could cause its own set of problems.
My jaw shifts, and my hands ball into fists. I’ve always been one to look at a situation and figure out the right move, but I’m at a loss for what to do when it comes to her.
Knowing I won’t be able to figure that shit out tonight, I push up off the couch, then start to pick her up so I can put her to bed. Her eyes open as her hands move to my chest.
“Noah.”
“Just putting you to bed, babe,” I tell her softly, lifting her off the couch. She makes a sound of protest in the back of her throat before shaking her head.
“I can walk.”
I ignore her and carry her to her room, hitting the light switch with my elbow, which turns on the desk lamp, casting a soft glow around the office. Since she’s been staying here, I haven’t come into her space, but seeing it now causes something to shift inside my chest. Her suitcases are both open on the floor with her clothes neatly packed inside like she’s just waiting to close them up and leave, and the couch looks like she’s never pulled out the bed.
“Have you been sleeping on the couch?” I ask, placing her on the cool leather loveseat. She tips her head back to look at me.
“Yes.”
“Babe, what the fuck?”
“It’s comfortable.” She pulls the blanket she brought with her off the back and lays her head on her pillow, closing her eyes. “You shouldn’t have let me drink so much champagne.”
“I tried to cut you off, but you told me you couldn’t let it go to waste.”
Table of Contents
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