“Yes,” she said, still staring at Noah. “I see, and I’m sorry, very sorry.”
“Nothing else out of the cab, or no more ride for you.”
“I promise.”
The cabby sniffed in indignance, and continued driving. Bailey waited with baited breath as they pulled into the huge drop-off loop at LAX. The cabby hit the curb in front of her airline and held out his palm.
She was still pulling the cash out of her purse when the taxi door on her side was hauled open. She’d no sooner handed the cabby his money when two big, warm hands pulled her from the car.
“Hey,” she said to one damn fine chest, covered in a beat-up leather aviation jacket.
“Hey,” Noah said fiercely instead of friendly, then hauled her against him. “Now tell me you’re in one piece because I’m not sure I can believe my eyes.”
Running her hands up his arms, she felt the tension in his body. It gripped him from head to toe, and she pulled back, looking into his face. “I’m in one piece.”
“Unhurt.”
“Unhurt,” she promised.
He stared at her for a long moment, then let out a slow, deliberate breath. Probably trying not to strangle her, she thought.
He had remarkable control that way.
“Look,” he said. “Probably another guy, a normal guy, would assume you’d left this morning because you were done with him.”
Her throat closed up at the thought of him thinking that.
“But I’d like to think I know better,” he said. “Stop trying to protect me, Bailey. Because the truth is, you’re the one who needs the protection.”
What could she say to that, the utter truth? When she’d left him only a half hour ago, he’d been gloriously naked, sprawled facedown over three-quarters of the bed, looking much finer than any male had business looking at the crack of dawn.
And she’d stood there for just a moment, throat nearly closed, eyes filled, a shaking hand to her mouth to hold in any words that she might have recklessly spilled.
God, he meant so much to her. In such a short time, he’d come to mean so much.
In any case, he hadn’t stayed gloriously naked, and she had a feeling he’d dressed while cursing her and running for the door. Besides the jacket, he wore a T-shirt and a pair of faded, soft-looking jeans that fit him in a way that had the other women walking past them giving him both a second and third look.
He was oblivious of course, his full attention on her. He had his sunglasses on, but she had no trouble detecting the temper in him. Just in case, he shoved the glasses to the top of his head and glared at her, those normally warm green eyes cool as rain.
Cool, and furious. “So. Where were you going?” he asked with remarkable politeness.
“You know where.”
He reached into the cab for her bag. Once he did, the cab took off, and she was left alone with him. Except for the hundreds of people at LAX, going about their day.
“I would have flown you,” he said, shouldering her duffle bag.
“I know.” She stepped close and put a hand on his chest. “I couldn’t ask you to do that, Noah. Not after what happened to you there-”
“Don’t,” he said. He pulled her into the terminal.
She knew that had been to get her out of the brisk morning air, and her heart squeezed all the more. Even now, he cared. “Noah-”
“Which airline?”
“I want to explain-”
“Which airline?”
She pointed, and he looked over his shoulder, noting the take-off times, and the long, winding line of people waiting. He headed toward the end of it, with her in tow.
“I already have my ticket,” she said to his stiff, broad shoulders.
“But I don’t.” He kept a tight grip on her hand, not a lover’s touch, as he’d used on her last night, all night long, not even a friendly one, but a tight, don’t-even-think-about-letting-go grip.
“You can’t just buy a ticket because of me-”
He shot her a scathing look.
“It’ll be expensive,” she said. Hers certainly would have been except she’d used her dead husband’s frequent-flyer miles. “And I can’t-”
He ignored her. Just totally and completely ignored her, making sure to keep her hand in his as he turned his back on her and studied the people around them.
“Noah.” His spine was tense when she set her hand on it. The muscles quivered beneath her touch, the only sign that he was aware of her. “Noah.”
He turned and looked at her. Someone jostled her from behind, and she used the excuse to slide her hands up his chest, and around his neck. She set her head down on his shoulder. “I couldn’t keep leaning on you,” she whispered.
He didn’t touch her back, but let out a tense breath. “I just keep thinking…I nearly missed you.”
I’d have come back. The words nearly rolled right off her tongue and into his ear, but she clamped down on them. She had no right to say such a thing, and no right to even want it.
He stepped back from her, as if needing distance. “Why did your cell phone take flying lessons on El Segundo Boulevard?”
She smiled wryly. “Saw that, huh?”
“Ran it over.”
She’d left her hand on his chest. She didn’t want to ever let go.
“Why, Bailey?”
“I got a text from Kenny.”
The look on his face as he absorbed that defied description: amazement that she’d allowed the contact, fear for her safety, and temper that he hadn’t been able to stop it. “How?” he finally asked. “I thought we agreed you would leave the thing off.”
She felt the guilt flash across her face. “No, you agreed I should. I…” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Noah. I had to see if he’d tried calling me.”
“I understand.”
“I mean, he’s my only family, and I just couldn’t seem to reconcile the fact that he’d-” She stopped. “You understand?”
“Do you think I’m completely cold and unfeeling?”
“No,” she said softly. “I don’t think you’re cold and unfeeling at all.”
He held her gaze for a long beat, then let out a breath. “So he called?”
“He texted. He’d done so before. Yesterday, too, when I was in the closet at Sky High. But this time he came right out and asked me where I was.” She took in his knowing expression and closed her eyes.
“Ah, hell, Bailey.” His sigh warmed her temple. “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t want to see it…”
Again she was jostled from behind, and she bumped closer into Noah. Chest to chest now. His hand settled on her waist, and for a moment, she let herself pretend that they were a couple.
He brought a hand up to her hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be right.”
She set her forehead to his chest and absorbed the betrayal and pain. “I don’t know how or why, but if he’s working with the investors to recover their money, then…” To even say the words felt wrong. “Then he’s been using our text messages to keep track of where I am. It would explain how they always seem to be right there with me, you know?”
He tipped her face up, staring down at her for a long beat. “No matter what happens, I’m there. On your side. Can you believe that?”
She wanted to. “I’m not very good at believing. But…”
“But…?”
“But I’d like to try, with you.”
He let out a long breath, then pressed a kiss to her jaw. A conciliatory kiss, a sweet connection that had her sighing as she leaned into him. She had no idea what she’d ever done to deserve him here at her side helping her, but she was ever so grateful that he was as stubborn as she. “I’ve always held back, you know. I think a part of me knew I couldn’t reveal everything, couldn’t fully trust.”
He ran his hand up and then down her back, comforting. “A sucky way to live.”
“It nearly killed me,” she confessed. “In more ways than one.” She managed to look at him, into those melting eyes and admit the truth. “I don’t want to live that way anymore. I want to learn to believe. To trust.”