Noah was having a hard time keeping the chuckles under wraps. He had never, ever been to a family gathering like this.

Cynthia’s face went completely blank like before, and he was starting to realize what it meant—it was her way of hiding her feelings. It was extremely effective.

“Noah has asked me for marketing help for a friend of his,” Cynthia said in a flat voice.

“What friend?” Ellen asked as she sat in her chair.

“Colton,” Cynthia replied. She opened her mouth to say more, but didn’t get a chance.

“Colton?” Ellen barked out a laugh. “The biggest slut in high school, you mean?”

“Ellen!” Tamie admonished. “I will not have that kind of talk at my table.”

“Men aren’t sluts,” Art said, his words slurring. “We are naturally predisposed to spread our seed. We shouldn’t be tied down, isn’t that right, Aaron? Larry? Noah, you know what I mean. Our nature is to boink every girl we can.”

“Art, really,” Tamie said, leaning heavily against the back of an open chair.

Art put his glass of wine down a little harder than was necessary, nearly a crash landing. “And when I say boink, what I actually mean is f—”

“No, no!” Tamie took two quick steps toward him with her hands out. “No, Art. We’re at the dinner table, remember. We’re not at some bar in…wherever it is you go.”

“What?” Art spread his hands wide, his look one of innocent confusion. “We’re all adults here.” The vibration came first, followed by the thunder of more flatulence.

“Good God,” Tamie said softly, shaking her head and turning toward Noah. “He’s Rick’s brother. I…” She shook her head again.

Aaron and Larry muttered something before rising from the table. They wandered off without another word. Art chuckled to himself as he gulped more wine.

“He always gets wasted at family parties and turns into a mess before passing out on the nearest couch,” Cynthia muttered. “I wish I were kidding, but sadly, this is my family.”

“Here’s the last… What’s that smell?” Tera asked as she appeared in the doorway with a tray full of cupcakes.

Noah’s chest warmed and a smile crossed his face. Cynthia had gotten those just for him. Despite making fun of him, she’d remembered what he liked and thought to get it.

He ran his fingertips along the side of her face before tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She turned to him, a cock-eyed smile on her face. Oh, she was reveling in her sister’s disgust. Then her smile slipped and an intense look crossed her face.

“Where’s the pecan pie?” he asked softly. Tera had set the cupcakes down close to him and returned to her seat.

Cynthia moved her hand back to his thigh. His cock stiffened painfully. She was so breathtakingly beautiful. So fun and full of life. He wanted her so badly.

“Noah, I am so sorry about the pecan pie,” Tamie said as she sat down. “I know I promised it. But the strangest thing happened…”

“I accidentally opened the back door and drop-kicked it,” Cynthia said with that same flat tone, looking dead serious. “I don’t know what came over me. The only explanation I can think of is that the thought of anyone liking such a horrible dessert made me act out in rage.”

“Cynthia, stop it with the dramatics,” Tamie said as Tera rolled her eyes. “But yes, strangely…uhh…”

“Strangely, Cynthia drop-kicked the pie out of the back door.” Tera looked at her sister with one eyebrow arched high.

“She was always a great soccer player.” Aunt Bessie nodded Cynthia’s way.

“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t gratifying,” Cynthia said.

Art started laughing so hard his stomach shook the table.

“But not to fear—Cynthia said that you also like cupcakes,” Tamie said. “And since she’d already picked these up, I hope they’ll be an okay stand-in.”

“That’s great,” Noah said, letting his hand trail down Cynthia’s arm until he was holding her hand in his own again.

“So anyway, Mom.” Cynthia handed her plate down for pumpkin pie, and Tera dished it up. “I’m going to stay with Noah for a while so I can help his friend. Hopefully I can find a job during the off-hours. I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Are you serious?” Ellen asked Noah with hard eyes. “You’re going to let her stay in your house?”

“Ellen, go see if your father wants some dessert,” Tamie said in a low, aggressive tone.

Ellen didn’t budge, still staring at Noah.

“Ellen,” Tamie snapped.

After shaking her head, Ellen pushed herself away from the table and stalked off.

“Well, that was awkward,” Cynthia muttered.

“She had a bad reaction to the…shrimp cocktail earlier,” Tera said, her voice not selling it.

“Sour grapes,” Aunt Bessie said before pointing at the tray of cupcakes. “Finally, a decent dessert.”

“When are you leaving?” Tamie asked, not taking any dessert for herself.

“I’m thinking of leaving tomorrow,” Noah said. “Cynthia is welcome to go with me, if she’d like. Or come whenever she can.”

“So soon?” Tamie said before Cynthia could get a word in. “Well, I suppose when the opportunity is calling, you have to go for it. I’ll help you pack after dinner, dear. We’ll have you ready.”

“It’s like talking in a wind tunnel,” Aunt Bessie said.

Another burst of flatulence had Tera rising from her chair. “Sorry, Mom, I can’t. He’s just…”

“It’s this chair, Tera,” Art said, his eyes drooping now. “The damn thing squeaks.”

“You got the best one of them all,” Aunt Bessie said.

Noah turned to see Aunt Bessie looking at him with a small smile. “Charlotte is the absolute best of them all. You’re a lucky man.” The smile disappeared and seriousness stole over her expression. “Remember, I am very good at cleaning. I just love kids. I’d be a great addition to your family. A closet is plenty of space for me. Anything. I’d be happy to help.”

“Bessie, really. You’d think you were trapped here.” Tamie huffed.

“Okay.” Cynthia pushed away from the table. “Well, that was all super awkward. I’m thoroughly embarrassed, so it’s time to go.”

Noah stood with her before grabbing a cupcake for the road. He got a one-fork salute from Art, accompanied by a drunken grunt.

Outside, Noah tilted up Cynthia’s face so he could kiss her thoroughly. His body ached to explore her. To find a place where they wouldn’t be disturbed so he could kiss every inch of her skin. But that was impossible. It was too early in the evening, and both of their families were roaming around.

“I need to put in some time with my parents,” he said, his face close to hers, the air heating up between them despite the chilliness of the night. “But…can I see you later? After everyone has gone to bed?”

Her eyes sparkled, but the next moment, the corners of her lips turned downward. She untucked the bottom of his shirt and slid her hands along his skin. He sighed as his cock strained, needing to be inside of her so badly it ached.

“I want nothing more than to spend the night with you,” she said, leaning closer. “But…I don’t want this to be in any way like high school. Like your past. You know, sneaking around…”

Like he did with Ellen. What he wouldn’t give for a time machine.

“I get it,” he said, smoothing her hair around her face. “That’s fine. Will you come home with me tomorrow?”

Her smile was sweet and anxious. “Yes.”

“Then we’ll wait until tomorrow. Or whenever you’re ready.” He bent down, running his lips over hers. “I really like you, Cynthia.”

She smiled against his lips. “I like you too,” she murmured.

He kissed her again, his tongue flirting with hers, his body pressed tightly against her. When she moaned softly, he barely restrained himself from grabbing her butt and sinking down so he could thrust against her eagerly. Instead, he stepped back, a man of his word. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

---

It was the longest night of his life. He’d nearly rubbed himself raw thinking about her. Thinking about how close she was—just four houses down—lying in her bed, possibly pleasuring herself as he was doing. Thinking of him while he was thinking of her.

The next morning, he was packed and ready at nine a.m. He’d told the guys he was bringing her back with him, and also that he was giving up Big Dick Escort Service. He’d told the girls to stay away so they didn’t scare Cynthia straight back to her parents’. Janie had enjoyed a good laugh at that.

It was the last text from Ethan that had slapped Noah with an uncomfortable reality.

You might be getting out of BD, but you’ll want to tell her about it. Ladies can’t take a joke when the punchline is you being a whore.

He stood near his Range Rover, staring down at his phone.

What was he thinking? He should’ve told her his real occupation. Maybe not right at the beginning, but he definitely should have come clean before asking her to come home with him. Granted, he wasn’t actually asking her to live with him, but it was damn close. He knew she wouldn’t be sleeping in the spare room. And if she did, he’d want to be with her. He’d tossed and turned all night wishing she was near him.

He blew out a breath as his phone chimed with a text.

It was Cynthia. I see you.

He glanced up, looking at her car and then her front yard, but didn’t see anything.

Another ping. But you can’t see me.

He grinned and texted back. You’re seriously creepy.

No, creepy would be texting you from a throwaway phone so you didn’t know who it was. This is just fun.

He laughed and shook his head, looking at the windows of her house. With the reflection, though, he couldn’t make out if someone was behind the glass.

Nope.

He scanned the bushes in her front yard.

Getting closer.

He was grinning like a lunatic.

While you look, is your father still pissed at you?

He walked in the direction of her parents’ house.

That’s cheating! she texted, right before she dropped out of the tree in the front yard.

Her hair was back in a ponytail, her eyes were sparkling with excitement and mischief, and she wore a T-shirt that said, In my defense, I was left unsupervised.

“Hey,” she said, half sauntering, half bouncing up to him. “How goes it?”

He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a kiss. “My dad is still pissed at me, yes. But last night, after I got home, he told me he just wants me to be happy. So that’s nice.”

“If it’s nice, why doesn’t your voice sell it?”

“Because then I got a lecture about how unhappy I would be without a future.”

She laughed and pressed her forehead to his chest. “We’ve reversed roles. My mother thinks she’s some sort of power matchmaker. She couldn’t be more pleased that she ‘landed’ Noah Arnold for me. And more good news—Ellen stopped talking to me. I mean, first she screamed that I would end up heartbroken and alone, but after that, blessed silence.”

He stroked her hair. Before they left, he should tell her about BD. He should lay it all out, and let her make an informed decision.

His gut pinched and nervousness stole through him. What if she said no? She’d trusted him about the unfounded high school rumors, but maybe this would cause her to reconsider. To maybe think that he’d started as a slut, then turned into a hooker.

His character would be called into question, and the evidence was severely stacked against him.

He blew out a breath. “When are you thinking of leaving?” he asked, not able to muster up the courage just yet. He needed advice from the girls on how to best break the news. They’d know what to do. After all, they’d all gotten past it.

“I was in the front yard, hiding in a tree.” She leaned back so she could make eye contact. “I’m ready. Past ready. Impatiently waiting. Oh, and by the way, Aunt Bessie wasn’t kidding. She can actually walk. She gave me a demonstration, then started her spiel about how willing she is to go into domestic servitude. Also about building an attic. And something about chains, but I’d started edging away by that point.”

“Bessie walking is big news,” he said, “but listen to this. After we left yesterday, my dad and Jim started talking. About me, of course, but also about you. Go figure. And guess what, lucky lady?”

“No.”

“You have a job waiting for you, should you want it.”

Her smile ruined the dramatic furrow between her eyebrows. “I’ll only take it if I can work directly with Jim. Within touching distance. That’s the only way.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I’m sure he’d make time just for you.”

“Awesome. Where do I sign?”

He laughed and kissed her before shifting his gaze to her beat-up, old car. “Is that thing going to make it?”

“What?” She stepped back and gave him side eye. “Of course Noisy Bertha will make it. She’s way more steadfast than your hunk of junk. Speaking of, I can’t believe I had sex in a beige car.”

“It’s a Range Rover, not a car, first and foremost—”

“Snob.”

“—and second, get your eyes checked. It’s black.”

“The interior is beige. Beige is for rich people with no personalities.”

“Is that right?” He braced his hands on his hips. “What color are your seats, then?”

“Speckled blue. Speckled because of the many stains. I call that character.”

“You should call it gross.” He shook his head and held out his hand. “Give me your phone, and I’ll plug in the address. That way you can stop by your storage facility, and I can beat you home to tidy up all my dirty laundry.”