The Truth About Lennon - Page 8

“But you’re a fucking paramedic.”

Mikey shrugs. “So? I do that shit all day long. I don’t want to do it when I’m off. Plus, Lennon here has already volunteered to take care of your gimp ass.”

“This is a fucking joke.” Noah clenches his hands against the sheet. “She caused all of this,” he says, waving toward his ankle. “If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“And that’s exactly why I want you to let me help,” I plead. “I feel horrible. I promise I’ll take really good care of you, and I won’t get in your way at all. And I won’t really move in for the next few days; I’ll just come by and make sure you don’t need anything, maybe cook dinner for you.”

This isn’t exactly how I’d planned to spend my first few days in Heaven, but I like the idea of taking care of someone. Particularly this someone.

“You don’t even know me,” he argues.

I stick my hand out to shake his, and all he does is scowl. Mikey shoves an elbow into his arm and finally, reluctantly, Noah shakes my hand.

Mikey smiles. “Noah, meet Lennon, your fiancée.”

“Fuck.” Noah groans, dropping his head back on the pillow, and Mikey shoots me a wink.

“Turn here.”

Putting on my blinker, I turn left as Noah guides me through town.

“Now where?” I ask.

“Just keep going.”

Other than giving me directions, Noah hasn’t said a word. No “Thank you for the ride home,” or “I’m sorry for being such an ass earlier.” I can probably forgive him for not saying the latter, considering the accident was my fault, but come on, the silent treatment?

Rolling my window down, I turn up the radio, enjoying the warm, salty air as it whips through the car. Everyone looks happier here. People are rollerblading, riding bikes, and walking along the beach. It’s different than the city where people are rushing past each other to get to their destination.

It’s almost like time has found a way to slow down here, and I like it. So much so that it’ll be difficult to go back to New York when the time comes—if it ever comes. Heaven is the type of place you come to when you want to settle down and raise a family. I might not be ready for kids, but I’m ready to find a place I can call home.

My eyes drift toward the beach. The waves are crashing against the shore before being sucked back out. The sounds are soothing, and definitely something I could get used to.

“Eyes on the road,” Noah snaps, making me jump.

“Don’t do that.” Good Lord, he’s lucky I didn’t drive off the road.

“You were gawking this morning, weren’t you? That’s why you ran me off the road.”

The way he says it makes me feel about an inch tall, and I sigh. “I’m sorry about today, and I’m sorry about your bike. I’ll pay for the damage.”

Noah doesn’t say anything, just sits quietly with his arms folded across his broad chest like a big, brooding baby. Only he isn’t a baby at all. He’s a delicious-looking man with more muscles than I’ve got handbags, and I’ve got a ton of handbags.

The winding road curves through town, and just about the time I feel like we’re reaching city limits, Noah instructs me to turn.

“That’s my driveway,” he says, pointing off to the right.

“Wow.” My lips part, my eyes following the gravel drive that leads to a beautiful home. Stone-accented brick with big, wooden pillars along the wrap-around porch—it looks like place out of a storybook. “It’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” He motions for me to pull up next to an older-looking car.

“Your Nova?”

Head tilted, Noah looks at me. “Huh?”

“Is that your Nova?” I may not be a car girl by any means, but anyone can identify a classic car, and that’s definitely a classic car.

“My Nova.” He says the words slowly before shaking his head, almost as though he was thinking about something…or someone maybe? “No, that’s my Chevelle.”

Tags: K. L. Grayson Romance
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