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But right now? He sort of wanted to change his answer. Today had been weird, and they hadn’t spoken much, and he needed to know what she was thinking. He hoped like hell she didn’t regret this.
He heard a crash in the next room and was on his feet in a flash, ice-cold fear shooting through him. Did she fall? Was she sick? She’d looked kind of pale when they’d finished unpacking—had she pushed too hard?
He tore into her dark room, eyes searching. He found her hunched form on the floor next to the desk.
Noah lurched forward and knelt beside her. “Mia? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
She swept the mane of dark hair back from her face, sending the sweetest scent of vanilla in his direction.
“I’m fine,” she grunted. “I thought it was stupid to be texting you and got out of bed to come talk to you. I’m not familiar with the room yet and walked right into the chair.”
Relief whooshed out of him on an exhale. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry.” She looked up at him, and he realized his hand was spanning her back. Touching the soft, warm skin at the base of her neck. He pulled his hand away and she made to stand, wobbling a little.
He rose with her. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head as she straightened all the way. “I just hit my knee.”
Her eyes did a slow sweep of his body, and he was keenly aware he was shirtless. He’d kept shorts on because it felt weird to sleep in only his boxer briefs with her there, and in that moment, he’d never been more thankful for the foresight.
His skin felt hot and he fisted his hands at his sides, trying not to notice the curve of her shoulder or the delicate outline of her collarbone.
“What did you want to talk about?” he managed to get out.
Her eyes snapped to his face. “Oh. I, um, I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. It kind of hit me all at once that we actually went through with it. What you did for me.” Her brown irises appeared almost black as they bounced back and forth between his. “I’ll never be able to repay you for this.”
“Stop saying that. I told you, it’s enough for me to see you happy.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Why?”
“I want you to be happy, too,” she said.
“And?”
“Doesn’t mean I’d have offered to break the law to do it.”
The muscles around his lips twitched. “I think you would have.”
She grinned. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Plus, you’re making me homemade cinnamon rolls in the morning.”
“Cinnamon rolls? I don’t think I was so specific...”
He shrugged. “I heard it.”
“Like, with yeast and two rises and everything? That’s a lot of work.”
“You promised.”
She laughed, and he relished the sound. “Fine. Cinnamon rolls it is.”
“Good.”
She lowered her gaze a little, looking straight ahead, level with his chest. She frowned and her finger touched his left pectoral. Goose bumps erupted across his skin. “Is that a new one?”
