A Baby and a Betrothal (3 page)

“Not enough room,” she said on a gasp, flinging her hand toward the edge of the sofa.

“You're so ready, Katie.” Noah kicked at the coffee table with one leg, shoving it out of the way then rolling off the couch, pulling her with him onto the soft wool rug as he went. They fell in a tangle of limbs and he eased her onto her back once more, cradling her face in his big hands as he whispered her name. “I want you so much.”

“Yes, Noah. Now.” She grabbed on tight to his back, loving the feel of his smooth skin and muscles under her hands. He slid into her and for a moment it was uncomfortable. It had been an embarrassingly long time since she'd been with a man. Then it felt good and right. Perfect like nothing she could have ever imagined. Noah groaned, kissed her again then took her nipple between his fingers. It was enough to send her over the edge. She broke apart, crying out his name as he shuddered and buried his face into the crook of her neck.

A long time later, when their breathing had slowed and she could feel the sweat between them cooling, he placed a gentle kiss against her pulse point then lifted his head.

Katie was suddenly—nakedly—aware of what they'd done, what she'd instigated. How this could change their friendship. How this changed
everything
.

“I guess practice
does
make perfect,” she said softly, trying to show with humor that she was casual and cool.

“
You
make it perfect,” Noah answered, smoothing her hair away from her face.

Her eyes filled with tears before she blinked them away. How was she supposed to keep cool when he said things like that? When he looked at her with something more than desire, deeper than friendship in his gaze? He might as well just open up the journal she'd kept for years and read all her secret thoughts.

He reached up and grabbed the light throw that hung over the back of the couch. He wrapped it around them both, turning on his side and pulling her in close. “But the floor? I should be ashamed of myself taking you like this. You should be worshipped—”

“I feel pretty worshipped right now,” she said, running her mouth across his collarbone. “I like being with you on the floor.”

“Then you'll love being with me in bed,” he answered. He stood, lifting her into his arms as he did, and carried her down the hall to her bedroom.

Chapter Three

K
atie blinked awake, turning her head to look at the clock on her nightstand. 3:30 a.m. She woke up every morning at the same time, even on her day off. Her internal clock was so used to the extreme hours of a baker, they had become natural to her.

But today something was different. She wasn't alone in bed, she thought, shifting toward where Noah slept beside her. Except he wasn't there. The empty pillow was cool to the touch. It had been only a couple of hours since he'd made love to her a second time, then tucked her into his chest, where she'd fallen asleep.

She sat up and thumped her hand against her forehead. That was exactly the kind of thinking that would get her into trouble. Noah hadn't
made love
to her. They'd
had sex
. An important distinction and one she needed to remember. She knew how he operated, had heard enough gossip around town and witnessed a few tearful outbursts by women he'd loved then left behind.

Still, she hadn't thought he would be quite so insensitive when it came to her. Love 'em and leave 'em was one thing, but they were supposed to be friends. She climbed out of bed, pulling on a robe as she padded across the hardwood floor. Her limbs felt heavy and a little sore. She found herself holding her breath as she made her way through the dark, quiet house. Maybe Noah hadn't been able to sleep and had come out to the kitchen. Maybe he hadn't rushed from her bed the moment he could make an easy escape.

The rest of her house was as empty as her bedroom. He'd put the coffee table back and straightened the cushions on the couch. Without the aches from her body and the lingering scent of him on her, Katie wouldn't quite have believed this night had happened. She'd imagined being in his arms so many times, but nothing had prepared her for the real thing or the pit of disappointment lodged deep in her gut at how the morning after dawned.

She glanced at the glowing display on the microwave clock and turned back for her bedroom. There was no time for prolonged sadness or a free fall into self-pity. It was Friday morning and she had the ingredients for her cherry streusel coffee cake waiting at the bakery.

She had a life to live, and if Noah didn't want to be a part of it, she had to believe it was his loss. She only wished that knowledge could make her heart hurt a little less.

* * *

When Noah climbed out of his Jeep four days later, he was hot, sore and needed a shower.

It was a perfect early-summer day in Colorado, clear blue skies and a soft breeze. The weather had been great on the trail, too, and normally Noah would have relished the time in the forest. As he'd climbed the ranks of the United States Forest Service, more of his time was spent in meetings and conference rooms than outside. Since he'd be town-bound once his mom had her surgery and started treatment, he'd taken the opportunity to check out a trail restoration project on the far side of Crimson Pass. He didn't want to think about the other reasons he might have disappeared into the woods for a few days—like worry over his mom's health or what had happened between him and Katie the night before he'd left.

Because if he'd wanted to escape his thoughts, he should have known better than to try to do it with the silence of the pristine forest surrounding him. It was as if the rustling of the breeze through the tall fir trees amplified every thought and feeling he had. Most of them had been about Katie. The tilt of her head as she smiled at him, the way her lips parted when he was buried inside her, the soft sounds she'd made. He'd been consumed by visions of her, catching the sweet smell of vanilla beneath the pine-scented air around his tent.

He knew he should have talked to her before he left. Hell, he had the start of two different notes wadded up in the glove compartment of the Jeep. But he hadn't got more than a few words past
Dear Katie
either time. She was worth more than pat lines and unconvincing excuses as to why he couldn't stay. As much as he wanted her, he should have never given in to his desire. Katie wanted more than he would ever be able to give her.

Maybe he'd left like a coward because he wanted to prove to both of them that, despite his best intentions, he couldn't change who he was. She wasn't a one-night stand, although that was how he'd treated her. Regret had been his faithful companion during his time on the mountain. Katie had always seen more in him than most people, and the worry of ruining their friendship weighed heavily. He owed her an explanation, and that was the first thing on his agenda this morning. After getting cleaned up.

“Do you smell as bad as you look?” a voice called from behind him.

He turned to see his friend Logan Travers coming down the back steps of the house he shared with his wife, Olivia. It was midmorning, and Logan held a stainless-steel coffee mug and a roll of paper—no doubt construction plans for one of his current renovation projects.

“Probably.” Noah hefted his backpack from the Jeep's cargo area. Tater jumped out and trotted over to Logan, rolling onto her back so that Logan could access her soft belly.

Shifting the plans under his arm, Logan bent and scratched. “You made someone very happy taking off like that.”

Noah's gaze snapped to Logan before realizing that his friend was talking about the dog. “She loves being out on the trail.”

“A perfect match for you.”

Noah didn't like the idea that the only female he could make happy was of the canine variety. “Thanks for letting me use the garage apartment.” He took the rest of his supplies from the backseat and set them near the Jeep's rear tire. He'd need to air everything out once he got to his mom's house. “I'm going to pack up later and head out to the farm. Emily will want to skin me alive for showing up at the last minute.”

Logan straightened, ignoring the thump of Tater's tail against his ankle. “The surgery is tomorrow.”

Noah gave a curt nod in response.

“I've cleared my schedule so if you need company in the waiting room I can be there.”

“No need.” Noah tried to make his tone light, to ignore the emotions that roared through him when he thought of his mother's scheduled five-hour surgery. “There won't be much to do except...”

“Wait?” Logan offered.

“Right.” He slung the backpack onto one shoulder. “I appreciate the offer, but I'm sure you have better things to do than hang out at the hospital all day.”

“We're friends, Noah. Josh and Jake feel the same way,” he said, including his two brothers. “Not just when it's time to watch the game or grab a beer. If you need anything, we're here for you.”

“Got it.” Noah turned away, then back again. It was difficult enough to think about being there, let alone with his friends, who knew him as the laid-back, fun-loving forest ranger, an identity he'd cultivated to keep people in his life at a safe distance. A place where they couldn't hurt him and he wouldn't disappoint anyone. But he was quickly realizing that being alone wasn't all it was cracked up to be when life got complicated. “I'll call tomorrow and update you on her condition. If you want to swing by at some point, that would be great.”

Logan reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Will do, man.”

He waited for his friend to offer some platitude about how everything would be okay, the clichéd phrases of support he'd grown to resent during his dad's illness. But Logan only bent to pet Tater behind her ears before turning for his big truck parked in the garage.

Noah headed for the steps leading up to the garage apartment, letting out a shaky breath as he did. He'd like to run back to the forest, to hide out and avoid everything that was coming. But his mom needed him. He owed it to her, and he'd made a promise to his father over ten years ago to take care of the family. He hadn't been called on to do much more than change an occasional lightbulb or fix a faucet drain until now. This summer would change that, and during his few days away he'd realized who he wanted by his side as he managed through all of it.

* * *

He walked into Life is Sweet forty-five minutes later and inhaled the rich scent of pastries and coffee. The morning crowd was gone, but the café tables arranged on one side of the bakery were still half-full with couples and families.

Crimson was the quirky, down-home cousin to nearby Aspen and benefited from its proximity to the glitzy resort town when it came to tourism. That and the fact that the town was nestled in one of the most picturesque valleys in the state. He knew the bakery was popular not only with locals, but also with people visiting the area thanks to great reviews on Yelp.

His gaze snagged on Katie, bent over a display of individually wrapped cookies and brownies near the front counter. Today she wore a denim skirt that just grazed her knees, turquoise clogs that gave her an extra inch of height and a soft white cotton T-shirt with a floral apron tied around her waist. He wanted nothing more than to run his hand up the soft skin of her thighs but didn't think she'd appreciate that in the middle of her shop or after how he'd left her.

Her hair was tied back in a messy knot, a few loose tendrils escaping. The scent of her shampoo reached him as he approached, making him want her all the more.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he whispered, trailing one finger down her neck.

“What the—” She whipped around and grabbed his finger, pinning it back at an angle that made him wince.

“It's me, Bug,” he said through a grimace.

“I know who it is,” she said, lessening the pressure on his hand only slightly. “Your free pass is over, Noah. Don't call me Bug. Or gorgeous.” She leaned closer. “I'm not interested in your bogus lines. What you did was lousy. We were friends and now...” Her voice broke on the last word and she dropped his hand, turning back to the cookies. “Lelia's taking orders today.” She nodded her head toward the young woman at the register. “If you want something, talk to her.”

“What I
want
is to talk to you.” He reached out, but she moved away, stepping behind the counter, her arms now crossed over her chest. He knew he'd messed up leaving the way he had but didn't think Katie would be this angry. There was nothing of the sweetness he usually saw in her. The woman in front of him was all temper, and 100 percent of it was directed at him. “Let me explain.”

“I know you, Noah. Better than anyone. You don't have to explain anything to me. I should have seen it coming.” She waved a hand in front of her face, bright spots of color flaming her cheeks. “Lesson learned.”

“It wasn't like that.” He moved closer, crowding her, ignoring the stares of the two other women working behind the counter and the sidelong glances from familiar customers. “Being with you—”

“Stop,” she said on a hiss of breath. “I'm not doing this here.”

“I'm not leaving until you talk to me.”

* * *

Katie huffed out a breath but grabbed his arm and pulled him, none too gently, through the swinging door that led to the bakery's industrial kitchen. She'd prepared herself for this conversation for the past four days. Actually, she'd wondered if Noah would even try to talk to her or if he'd just pretend nothing had happened between them. Maybe that would have been better because prepared in theory was one thing, but having him in front of her was another.

Her heart and pride might be bruised by the way he'd walked away, but her body tingled all over, sparks zinging across her stomach at the way he'd touched her—at least until she'd almost broken his finger. She had to keep this short, or else she'd be back to melting on the floor in front of him.

Once the door swung shut again, she released him and moved to the far side of the stainless-steel work counter that dominated the center of the room.

Suddenly Noah looked nervous. Which didn't seem possible because he was never nervous, especially not with women. “I'm sorry,” he said simply, as if that was all he had to offer her.

“Okay,” she answered and began to rearrange mixing bowls and serving utensils around on the counter, needing to keep her hands busy.

“Okay?”

“Fine, Noah. You're sorry and you don't want me to be mad at you.” An oversize pair of tongs clattered to the floor. She bent to retrieve them then pointed the tongs in his direction. “You've apologized. I've accepted. You can go now.”

“What if I don't want to go?”

“You sure weren't in a hurry to stick around the other night.” She tossed the tongs into the sink across from the island. “How long after I fell asleep did you sneak out? Ten minutes?”

Her eyes narrowed when he didn't answer. “Five?” she said, her voice an angry squeak.

“I didn't sneak out,” he insisted. “You have to get up early and I didn't want to wake you.” He leaned forward, pressing his palms on the counter's surface, his dark T-shirt pulling tight over his chest as he did. “You knew I was heading out on the trail for a few days.”

Her mouth went dry, and she cursed her stupid reaction to Noah Crawford. His hair was still damp at the nape of his neck and she could smell the mix of soap and spice from his recent shower. He'd got more sun while in the woods, his skin a perfect bronze, and there was a small cut along one of his cheeks, like a branch had scraped him. Despite her anger, she wanted to reach out and touch him, to soothe the tension she could see in his shoulders. She had to get him out of her bakery before her resolve crumbled like one of her flaky piecrusts.

“I get it. But I was disappointed in you...” He flinched when she said the word
disappointed
, but she continued. “Mainly, I'm furious with myself.” She lowered her arms to her sides, forced herself to meet his blue eyes. “I know who you are, how you treat women. I shouldn't have expected it would be any different with me.”

He shook his head. “You are different—”