It Started with a Crack by Piper James

Chapter Fifteen

Dakota

What the fuck did I do?

I pressed my fingertips against my temples in an attempt to massage away the pain. I’d been cursing myself since I woke up ten minutes ago, my headache a bleak reminder of my stupidity. As if mixing beer and tequila wasn’t bad enough, I’d taken four consecutive shots on an empty stomach.

The liquor had hit me hard and fast, erasing my inhibitions so that when Noah looked at me like he wanted to kiss me… Fuck. There was no resistance. I’d wanted it, so I’d taken it.

Now, here I was, oversleeping on a workday, yet unable to pull my sorry ass out of bed. I’d shot off a text to Geraldine as soon as I woke up, letting her know I was under the weather and wouldn’t be in today. She’d responded kindly, telling me to feel better and take as many days off as I needed—which made me feel even more terrible.

Because, sure, I was hungover, my head was pounding, and my mouth tasted like death, but I’d powered through and faced the day with worse. A shower, a cup of coffee, and a couple of aspirin would do the trick to bring me back to the land of the living.

No, the real reason I’d called in was currently in the kitchen—frying bacon again, if my nose could be trusted. I just wasn’t ready to leave my room and face Noah, yet. I’d pretended to be asleep when I heard his footsteps stop by my door earlier, and I’d held my breath until he moved away.

I wasn’t sure how I should act around him after that kiss, and I sure as hell wasn’t ready for the teasing innuendos he’d toss my way. Because that was just who he was.

A tiny kernel of doubt planted inside me as I played over that scene at the bar in my head. When I walked in and saw Barbie Wellington leaning into Noah’s personal space, my blood had run hot with anger. That woman was a leech, attempting to sink her greedy claws into any man who had enough money to support her plastic surgery addiction.

She’d gone after Belle’s brother, Marshall, a decade ago when his trust fund matured and he inherited his billions. When Marsh shot her down, she’d tried with his twin, Max. And when that didn’t work, she’d gone after the big man, himself, Jaxson Parker. Misogynistic asshole. Douchebag extreme. And from what I’d heard through the grapevine, the man had fucked her and tossed her out on her ass without as much as a thank you.

The girls down at the salon had come into the bar laughing their asses off about the hissy fit she’d thrown in front of them at her hair appointment the next morning. Like anyone else in this town would’ve expected any less of Jaxson Parker. The man was a slimy, corrupt degenerate, which was why Belle and her brothers had cut ties with him, completely.

So, when I saw her trying to get her hooks into Noah, I’d seen red. Even if she didn’t know how much he was worth, she did know who he was and his ties to the Parker family. I’m sure all she saw were dollar signs, and I was feeling defensive for Noah. Because of our newfound friendship. That was all.

I definitely didn’t have a little devil on my shoulder chanting “mine, mine, mine” into my ear as I stalked toward them, ready to rip those fake ass extensions out of her hair. And I definitely didn’t have an urge to rub myself all over him, scenting him in some animalistic attempt to mark my territory.

I threw my arm over my eyes and nestled deeper into my pillow. I was fucking lying to myself. I’d been jealous. There was no other way to look at it. I was ready to fucking light Barbie’s skanky tube dress on fire and cackle with glee as her plastic tits melted in front of me.

Where had this violence inside me even come from? I’d never felt this way over a man before, and I sure as shit didn’t want to start with Noah Perry, of all people.

I didn’t even like him.

I gritted my teeth in annoyance. That was another lie. Because after our night hanging out together on the couch, eating breakfast with him, and just being here, surrounded by his presence, I was starting to like him. A lot.

And hearing him tell Boobalicious Barbie that he wasn’t interested? Seeing him physically remove her hand from his thigh?

My ovaries had wept with joy even as I slid into her seat and made jokes about what she said to him. Oh, I tried to cover up my emotions, but when he made that joke about what he was packing in his pants, it took every ounce of willpower I possessed to keep my eyes from darting down to check it out for myself.

I ordered two shots of tequila—which I rarely drank—with the intention of giving one to Noah. But when the bartender slid them in front of me, I drank them both without pause. I needed something to calm my nerves. And my hormones.

It worked for a few seconds, but then Noah said he hadn’t been with anyone since he moved here. My mind went immediately to the two blondes I’d seen him with that night, not six feet from where we were currently sitting, and overhearing him ask them for a threesome.

Was he lying about his celibacy? I didn’t think so. I’d gotten to know him a little bit, and I didn’t see any deception in his eyes. That meant they turned him down, which didn’t actually make me feel any better about the whole situation.

What did make me feel better, though, was what Noah had said next. All that stuff about growing up, making himself a better man, and finding someone who liked him for who he was had tugged at my heartstrings. And my traitorous ovaries.

Then he kissed me and all rational thought deserted me. All I knew was Noah. His lips were soft and tender, giving me the barest of kisses. It wasn’t enough. I wanted more. Instinct took over, and I ended up in the middle of the best fucking kiss of my life.

I got a little lightheaded from the thrill of it, swaying in my seat, and Noah pulled away. There was regret in his eyes, and I wasn’t sure what it meant. That he regretted kissing me? Or regretted stopping?

Either way, the moment was over. He insisted on driving me home, and I didn’t argue. I didn’t talk to him at all, because I knew if I opened the lines of communication, there was a chance he’d give me the old “this was a mistake” spiel. I’d be mortified and end up leaving the ranch to live in the backseat of my shitty car because I couldn’t handle facing him again.

I sat up, throwing my legs over the edge of the bed. I may have lost my courage last night, but this morning, in the bright light of day, I knew I needed to pull myself up and face the consequences of my actions.

If Noah Perry let me down gently and placed me firmly in the friend-zone, so be it. If he pulled me into his arms and kissed away all my fears, well, I’d figure that out, too. Either way, I was done hiding.

And I wanted some of that bacon he was cooking.

I took a shower, brushed my teeth and gargled with mouthwash for five minutes to make sure there was no lingering tequila-breath. I pulled on a pair of leggings and a baggy hoodie, threw my damp hair up into a ponytail, and pinched some color into my cheeks before taking a deep breath and leaving my room.

“Good morning. Are you hungry?” Noah said as I wandered into the kitchen.

“Starved,” I murmured, grabbing a mug from the cabinet to make a cup of coffee.

The creamer appeared in my line of vision, and I gave Noah a soft smile as I accepted it. He went back to the stove, using tongs to pluck the last of the bacon out of the frying pan and laying it on a plate next to a split biscuit smothered in white sausage gravy.

“Guaranteed to cure what’s ailing you,” he said as he handed over the plate with a flourish. “Homemade biscuits and gravy with a side of bacon.”

“You baked biscuits?” I asked as I grabbed my coffee and carried it and the plate to the table.

“Okay, fine. The biscuits are from a can, but I did make the sausage gravy.”

“Thank you,” I said, giving him a small smile. “It smells delicious.”

I tried to focus on the flavors bursting on my tongue as I ate, but all I could think about was how…normal Noah was acting. Like last night never even happened.

Had he forgotten? No. I’d only seen him drink the one beer, and he hadn’t been there long before I’d arrived. Plus, he drove us home, which I knew he wouldn’t do if he was inebriated. He would’ve ordered a ride.

Plus, as drunk as I was, I hadn’t forgotten a single second of it. I remembered every detail, so there was no way Noah didn’t remember kissing me.

Which meant he wanted to act like it never happened.

I knew I should feel relieved, but instead, I just felt empty. If Noah wanted to pretend like it never happened, that meant he regretted it. Which meant he only wanted to be friends.

“Does it taste okay?”

“What? I mean, yeah. It’s delicious. Thank you,” I blurted.

“You sure? You look like you’re about to throw up or something.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I was just thinking about how I’m never going to drink tequila again.”

My joke fell flat, and Noah stared at me for several beats before his shoulders sagged. Giving me a nod, he headed back into the kitchen to finish cleaning up his mess.

We spent the rest of the day hanging out. Apparently, he didn’t have a worksite to visit today, so we had a movie marathon on the couch. We talked. We laughed. But it was all superficial. There were only a few feet between us, but it felt like a mile.

By the end of the day, I’d convinced myself it was for the best. Noah Perry might want to change, but wanting it and doing it were two different things. It would only be a matter of time before he went back to his womanizing ways, and his apparent disinterest was the best thing for me.

My heart would remain safe and whole. And when the ranch finally sold, moving out of here and away from Noah wouldn’t rip me to shreds.

I could ignore my attraction to him. No problem, whatsoever.

And when my phone rang, and I got the news that the potential buyers had decided to go in another direction, I gave an Oscar-worthy performance of being disappointed when I told Noah.

In actuality, all I felt was relief. And that scared me like nothing else ever had.