Crazy, Hot Love

by K. L. Grayson

  I shrug. “Mine are.”

  That catches his attention. Biker dude cranes his neck to look at me. “You have tattoos?”

  I nod, and he narrows his eyes.

  “The henna ones don’t count.”

  “It’s not a henna. I have—”

  I’m interrupted by the call of sirens as the ambulance comes into view. It pulls up along the side of the road, and a couple of men jump out, bags in hand.

  “Noah Fucking Cunningham.” The short one shakes his head as he walks toward us.

  The tall, lanky one unloads a stretcher from the back of the ambulance. “Only you would wreck your bike and end up in the arms of the prettiest gal in Texas.”

  Noah.

  Noah Cunningham.

  I wasn’t expecting him to be a Noah. He looks too rugged to be a Noah. When I think of Noah, I think of someone sweet, someone less leather and more…tweed.

  But I like it. A lot.

  “Shut the fuck up, Mikey, and get this goddamn bike off my leg.”

  I nudge Noah in the arm. “That wasn’t very nice.”

  “That’s all right, darlin’,” Mikey says, squatting down to secure Noah’s leg. “Noah isn’t very nice. In fact, he’s pretty damn grumpy. Unless Nova’s around.”

  “Nova?” I ask, hoping it’s his dog. “Is Nova your dog?”

  Mikey busts up laughing, and Noah just grunts, something I’m starting to realize he’s good at.

  “No? Your car?”

  Please let it be your car. It shouldn’t matter because I sure as hell don’t need to be thinking of Noah as anyone other than the poor soul I almost killed, and I sure as hell don’t need to be lusting after him and all his inked-up glory. In fact, I should probably steer clear of men altogether. Especially after what happened with Mathis. (Yes, he wore tweed.)

  Except this man isn’t at all like Mathis. At least I don’t think he is. Only time would tell, and well, time isn’t something we have a whole lot of right now.

  “Yes,” Noah grits out between his teeth. “Nova is my car.”

  Mikey’s eyes dance with amusement. He smiles knowingly, but doesn’t say anything else, instead choosing to focus his attention where it should be—on Noah’s leg.

  In a matter of seconds, the motorcycle is moved and Noah is loaded onto a stretcher.

  Glancing down, I assess the damage I caused. Noah’s leg appears to be nice and straight, which has to be a good thing, but blood has seeped through his jeans, and there’s a giant rip in the denim, exposing a nasty-looking cut above his knee. I have to look away before I throw up.

  “It’s just a little blood,” Mikey whispers before loading Noah into the ambulance. He shuts the doors and turns to me. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of him. I’d offer you a ride, but a police officer is on the way to take your statement.”

  My statement? “Right.” Because I just caused an accident. “Okay. I won’t go anywhere.”

  Mikey smiles. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “It’s Lennon.”

  “Lennon. That’s an interesting name.”

  I wait for him to ask me if I was named after John Lennon, because that’s what everyone asks. But he doesn’t, and I’m grateful. It’s awkward telling people your mother has an unhealthy obsession with the Beatles.

  Instead he says, “Well, Lennon, we’re taking Noah to Heaven Memorial if you, you know—” He shrugs. “—want to check on him later.”

  I nod. “Thank you.”

  Mikey nods, patting my shoulder before climbing into the ambulance and whisking Noah away. Seconds later, the police officer shows up.

  Several questions, a not-so-well-drawn diagram of the accident, and one warning later, I find myself back in the car, winding through the streets of Heaven. I flick my blinker on when the navigation instructs me to turn left. Only instead of turning left, I turn right, following the small blue signs until I pull up in front of Heaven Memorial Hospital.

  Turn around, I tell myself.

  Of course I don’t listen. I’m too damn stubborn for that.

  Chapter 2

  Noah, Meet Lennon, Your Fiancée

  Lennon

  “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, I’m looking for Noah Cunningham. He was brought in by ambulance a little while ago.”

  The woman looks me over and she smiles, but it isn’t as friendly as it should be. “Are you family?”

  “Um…” I shake my head. “No.” Her smile fades, and I quickly improvise because I know that look. If I’m not family, she won’t let me back there to see him. “Not yet, at least,” I say, mustering up as much conviction as I can. “I’m his fiancée.”

  Oh shit. I can’t believe I just said that.

  Too late now.

  That makes her frown. “Noah doesn’t have a fiancée.”

  “How do you know?”

  Narrowing her eyes, the woman stands behind her desk. “I grew up with Noah. Our brothers are friends. I think I’d know if he was dating, let alone engaged,” she says—a bit too defensively, if you ask me.

  Does this woman have a thing for Noah? A hint of jealousy sparks in my veins, surprising me.

  “I assure you he does,” I say with just as much bite, because as it turns out, I have a thing for him too.

  The bitch crosses her arms over her chest. “Where’s your ring?”

  “I didn’t put it on this morning. What are you, the engagement police?” Not the cleverest thing to say, I know, but it’s the best I could come up with.

  Lips pressed firmly together, the woman glares. If looks could kill I’d be dead, buried, and forgotten about. I glance at the woman’s name tag before meeting her death stare head on.

  “Now I get it,” I say, snapping my fingers as though I should’ve recognized her sooner. “You’re Penny.”

  Penny’s scowl turns into more of a frown.

  “Noah told me all about you.”

  As expected, this perks her up. “He did?” She quickly realizes her mistake. “I mean, of course he did.”

  “There you are, Lennon!”

  I turn to see Mikey, the guy from the ambulance, walking toward us. If the look on his face is any indication, he caught some—if not all—of my little white lie.

  Leaning against the desk, he smiles warmly at the woman. “How are ya, Penny?”

  It’s amazing how her demeanor changes in the presence of a man. “Hey, Mikey. I’m good. Just been workin’ a lot, ya know?”

  Mikey nods, and Penny glances at me somewhat timidly. “This woman is trying to tell me she’s engaged to Noah.”

  “Wait…” Mikey waves a finger between me and Penny. “You mean you didn’t know about Lennon? Brad didn’t tell you?”

  Penny shakes her head and opens her mouth to respond, but Mikey cuts her off with a fake disappointed sigh.

  “I guess I’m not really surprised,” he says. “He hasn’t been around much lately, what with his new job and all. How’s that going for him, anyway?”

  “Good,” she says, looking back toward me, clearly wanting to redirect the conversation.

  “Good.” Mikey nods. “That’s good. Well,” he says, clapping a hand on the desk, “I’ll take Lennon down to Noah’s room before I go, if it’s all right with you.”

  Plopping down in her seat, Penny huffs. “Fine.”

  With a hand pressed to my back, Mikey guides me down the hall.

  “Thank you,” I whisper when I’m certain we’re out of earshot.

  “Are you kidding me? Noah should be thanking you. He’s been turning down Penny since the third grade, and now maybe she’ll get off of his back for good.”

  “Well, then…” I puff out my chest. “I’m glad I was able to help. But I’ll be honest; I thought for sure I lied to the wrong person. I was really worried there for a second.”

  “This is a small town, Lennon. The kind where everybody knows everybody, everybody thinks they know everything, and you can’t piss without it ending up in t
he paper or on Facebook. It’ll do you good to remember that.”

  “Does that mean—”

  “Yup.” He nods before I even finish. “Penny has probably already posted about it, tweeted it, Snapchatted it, and found a way to put it up on Instagram.”

  “Great.” I stare at the hospital door. “Now Noah’s really going to hate me, and we don’t even know each other.”

  “Nah. Noah’s pretty laid back.”

  I look up at him, cocking a brow.

  “Okay, he’s uptight, but he’ll see the humor in it,” he says, opening the door before quietly adding, “I think.”

  A man in a long, white coat is standing in the room, waving his hands as he talks to Noah, who is stretched out on the bed, his jeans and T-shirt now replaced by a green hospital gown. Noah’s eyes widen when he notices me walking into the room behind Mikey.

  “What is she doing here?” he says, cutting off the doctor.

  “She’s your fiancée; where else would she be?”

  We all turn toward the snide voice. Penny. Go figure, she must’ve followed us. She flits around the room. Doing what? No clue. Probably just being nosy.

  “Fiancée?” Noah looks from Penny to Mikey and narrows his eyes when they land on me.

  I’m going to go straight to hell.

  “It’s okay,” I soothe, sitting on the bed next to him. Smiling down, I brush his hair off of his forehead. It’s soft, and I let my fingers linger longer than necessary as I imagine what it would be like to belong to this man—to be able to touch him whenever I wanted, run my fingers through his shaggy hair, kiss him. The thoughts in my mind have no business being there, but I can’t help but wish for every single one.

  Feeling the weight of silence, I clear my throat. “I told her.” I glance at Penny, who is frowning. “And she’s not going to say anything, are you, Penny? Because we haven’t officially announced it yet.”

  Her eyes widen, guilt splattered across her face. “Uh...”

  “I’m so lost,” Noah mumbles, running a hand over his ruggedly handsome face. “Maybe I did hit my head, doc.”

  “I’m sorry, I missed your name.” The young doctor sticks out his hand, which I quickly accept.

  “Lennon.”

  He smiles. “It’s nice to meet you, Lennon. My name is Dr. Ward, and I took care of your fiancé when he came in. In fact,” he says, looking at Noah, “I was just telling him what will need to be done once he gets home.”

  “Yes.” I turn toward the doctor, giving him my full attention like any dutiful fiancée would. “Please, fill me in.”

  “You don’t have to fill her in,” Noah says, trying to nudge me off the bed. “She’s not—”

  “Shush.” Pressing a finger against his mouth, I frown. So does Noah. “He absolutely will fill me in. Who else is going to take care of you?”

  He swats my hand away. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” Dr. Ward interjects.

  “Fine.” Noah rolls his eyes. “I’ll have my mother come help me.”

  “She’s on vacation,” Mikey offers, holding his hands up in surrender when Noah shoots him a nasty glare.

  “Noah, this is good. You’ll need some assistance for a few days, someone to help you get around the house so you can stay off your ankle,” Dr. Ward says.

  “I’m good, doc, really.”

  He nudges me again, but I just wrap his hand in mine and kiss his knuckles adoringly. Noah furrows his brow and presses his lips together. His gaze on me is so powerful, I swear the man can hold a conversation with just his eyes.

  What the fuck are you up to?

  I squint at him, letting him know I’ve got the wheel right now. Play along or I’ll run you off the road again.

  Noah blows out a long, frustrated breath, and I know I’ve won him over.

  “Anyway.” The doctor clears his throat. “Noah sprained his ankle during the accident. Nothing is broken, but he did a number on it. He also has a laceration on his leg that we cleaned up. It didn’t need stitches, but I’d like for him to keep an eye on it, because we don’t want it to get infected. I’ll have Penny print out the instructions and give them to you.”

  I nod, and when Dr. Ward isn’t looking, Penny rolls her eyes.

  “I would like it if you could stay off your foot for a couple of days,” he says to Noah. “Your ankle needs rest and ice.”

  “Rest and Ice. Got it.” I turn to Noah. “I’ll just plan on staying with you for the next couple of days.”

  “He’s your fiancée,” Penny exclaims. “Don’t you live with him?”

  “No.” I might not be southern, but I do my best to tack on some southern belle charm. I press a hand to my chest, feigning disbelief. “Daddy would not approve of that. No shackin’ up until we’re married. Right, sweetie?”

  “Shackin’ up?” Noah says.

  “Whatever.” Penny walks out, followed by the doctor, and Mikey claps his hands together.

  “Well, folks, I’ve gotta get going.” He walks toward me and squeezes my shoulder. “Lennon, I’ll swing by Noah’s tonight and make sure you two don’t need anything.”

  “Wait. What?” Noah pulls his hand from mine and scowls up at Mikey. “She’s not really coming home with me.”

  “Yes, she is.” Mikey looks to me for confirmation, and I nod. “How else would you get home? You don’t have your bike, and your parents are out of town.”

  “You,” Noah says. “You can take me home.”

  “Sorry, man. Can’t. Gotta finish my shift. Plus, there’s no way in hell I’m taking care of your ass.”

  “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 sho
re 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.”

  “It’s pretty.” Putting the car in park, I slide out and rush to Noah’s door so I can help him. Which, of course, he doesn’t let me do.

  “What is it with you and things being pretty? That car is not pretty.”

  “Sexy?” I offer.

  That earns me the tiniest smile. “Better.”

  I reach for his arm, hoping to give him support, but he swats me away. Stupid man. If he bites the dust, I absolutely will not help him up.

  We walk side by side to the front door. Well, I walk. Noah hobbles. He manages to maneuver his way up the three steps leading to his front door, and he unlocks it before turning toward me.