“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I’ve had it a few months.”
She nodded. “I guess I just haven’t seen you lately without...” She waved a hand across his midsection. “Like this. It’s beautiful. Is it finished?”
The tattoo was a single feathered wing spread across that side of his chest and onto his shoulder. “Yeah.”
“Just one?”
He wasn’t in the mood to talk about it, so he simply nodded.
She didn’t push. Probably because she understood him so well and knew when to leave things be.
“Well,” she said. “I’ll let you get back to bed. I’m sorry I made you get up.”
“It’s no problem.”
She just watched him for a beat, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, laying her cool cheek against the tattoo.
“Thank you, Noah.”
He slid one arm around her back, then the other. Standing in the dark with her lush body pressed up against him caused his heart to stutter to life, beating erratically inside his rib cage. His eyes slid closed and his throat closed up, a mixture of pleasure and guilt swirling inside him like a tornado. The guilt, an ever-present ache deep in his gut, clawed itself free and rose up to destroy the joy in his heart.
The pain made it difficult to breathe, his chest filling with pressure. He released her and headed back to his room without a word, his earlier assertion disturbingly clear.
He definitely wouldn’t survive this.
Breakfast had always been Mia’s favorite meal of the day. Well, before she discovered chicken wings, anyway.
Noah’s mom had always loved making a big thing out of Sunday brunch, and when they were younger, Mia had usually drifted over to his house those mornings. It became such a regular occurrence that his mom started cooking for five, and Mia still showed up even when he and Nathan were away in the mountains.
He’d missed it since leaving home, though he now realized it might not be remorse or unrequited love that would do him in; he’d definitely die of a heart attack if Mia kept feeding him like this.
“Want another?”
“Don’t ask ridiculous questions, wife.”
She laughed and slid another warm cinnamon roll onto his plate. She refilled her coffee mug and sat across from him.
He let his eyelids drift down as he closed his lips around a forkful. “You’re definitely making these every weekend.”
She snorted.
He opened one eye.
“You’ll get pancakes,” she said.
He opened his other eye and grinned. “I’m okay with that. You can take next weekend off, though. I’m climbing with Graham.”
“Yeah? Where?”
“Eldo.”
“Of course.”
Eldorado Canyon was his favorite place to climb, even though it could get busy with tourists in the summer. His brother had always preferred Flatirons, and in high school they’d hit that area every chance they got for climbing and camping.
Noah hadn’t been back to that particular spot since Nathan died.
He swallowed another bite and leaned back in his chair. “So. Are we gonna tell people we’re married today?”