"The paintings are really beautiful, by the way! I didn't know that you painted at all. I mean, you don't exactly look like the artsy type-"
"I don't. These paintings aren't mine," Noah interrupts. His empty stare shifts away from me and remains fixated on the painted pieces within the room instead. "My late wife was the one who loved to paint. I don't know the first damn thing about making art. That was her forte, not mine."
A sad smile briefly appears on his lips which breaks my heart as soon as I see it. It's the first time I've seen him express his raw emotion to me all night, but witnessing him in such a weak and vulnerable state isn't what I had in mind. I sigh and hang my head. The deep regret of me deciding to open my big mouth when I clearly didn't need to weighs down heavily in my chest as I rush to gather my thoughts.
"…I'm sorry," I shamefully shake my head and weakly apologize to him.
"Don't be, Cassie. She would be thrilled to hear that someone other than Taylor or me appreciated her artwork. Especially since she was always too shy to show anyone else her paintings."
"No… I mean that I'm sorry not only for bringing up such a painful and private matter without thinking, but also for being extremely harsh on you the first time we met. You were right. I didn't know a single thing about your family situation, yet I was incredibly rude to you."
The brazen manner of my proud words from that night still ring loudly in my head. I can't help but beat myself up over the painful realization of my impudent behavior which fills me with immense grief each time I recall the moment. I severely misjudged Noah and made him out to be the villain when he was trying his best to be a hero. The only bad guy in this entire scenario is me for misunderstanding that.
"It must be difficult for you to be a single father to a young and growing girl like Taylor. She's definitely a handful," I add.
Noah immediately bursts out laughing after my statement. "Yeah, she really is a handful, isn't she?" he responds as he brightly beams in agreement.
My whole body stops and freezes from the sight of Noah's smiling expression. The ends of his lips are genuinely curved upward while the white of his teeth are bared right in front of me. I can feel my heart gently flutter and flit from the dazzling presence of his smile. He's even more handsome and striking when he's putting on a joyful appearance, the noticeable difference of his age from mine erased by the youthful energy that's exuding from his grin.
I abruptly shift my eyes away from Noah. It's way too dangerous for me to stay in the warm comfort of that perfect smile. I might end up getting even more drawn in by him than I already am.
"Well, I should probably go now and take that shower before it gets too late," I quietly utter as my thumb points toward the staircase. But before I can turn around to leave, the inscrutable man stops me with a single word from his mouth: "Hey."
His sudden callout to me gives me no choice but to turn toward him where I reluctantly come face to face with his brilliant and mesmerizing green eyes. A tender sensation slowly stirs in my heart when we lock stares with each other. It seems like no matter how often I make contact with his gaze, I still can't get used to the beauty of it. The stunning green shade of his eyes is a color that I could lost in forever.
"This might sound strange, but do you want to have a drink together in my study? A small toast to your unexpected success as Taylor's nanny?" Noah coolly suggests in a light and playful tone.
As soon as I hear his invitation, my immediate gut feeling tells me that it's a bad idea. If it were any other person aside from my boss, I would definitely jump at the chance to say yes and enjoy a drink or two. Having a friendly drink just doesn't feel appropriate, especially with the conflicting way that I feel toward him. I'd only be digging myself into an even deeper hole if I accepted another one of his generous offers. However, the strong feelings of resistance in my chest don't match up with the words that end up coming out of my mouth.
"Yeah, sure," I say with a nod. It's almost like my lips naturally move on their own, my voice a completely separate entity from the rest of my body.
Before I can fully realize what I'm doing, my feet are already following behind Noah where he leads me into his private study. My actions and surroundings almost feel like a complete dream the whole time I'm moving around and getting situated on his leather couch. It isn't until the man lifts the wineglass up for me to take out of his hand that I come to understand the odd situation that I've put myself in.
"Cheers to the woman who's already lasted longer on the job than most of my previously hired nannies. I'm glad to see my gamble paid off," Noah says as he brings his glass up into the air.
I quickly follow suit and lift my glass up as well. "Yeah, cheers!" I smile.
The light impact of our wineglasses hitting against each other makes a satisfying clink as we proudly drink to our individual successes. Yet my eyes bulge in surprise and delight once the wine enters my mouth. The rich and deep flavor of the drink dances on my tongue and spreads beyond my taste buds unlike any other wine I've ever tasted. Surely, the inexplicable experience that's happening with each swallow of the red wine is due to the hefty price tag of it, but I can't stop myself from having another large sip from the glass which actually empties out the remaining contents within the goblet.
My eyes sneak a glance over at Noah's wineglass which is still filled with a bit of red liquid. It looks like I may have jumped the gun a bit by downing the entire drink without pacing myself. There's no doubt in my mind that he won't think that I'm some sort of drunkard now after the way I finished drinking the wine so quickly. I look up at him in hopes that he doesn't see my empty glass, but a nervous panic falls over me when I notice the slight shock on Noah's face. His stare is pointed right at the clear and unfilled goblet in my hand.
"I, uh, couldn't really help myself! This wine tastes amazing. I've never had anything like this before," I timidly chuckle.
Although I can feel my cheeks getting a bit warm and flushed, I can't quite figure out if it's from the alcohol, my own embarrassment, or maybe even a mixture of both. All I know for certain is that the burning sensation within my stomach is telling me that the effects of the wine are gradually starting to kick in. My head is actually feeling a bit woozy and lightheaded now that I think about it. However, Noah simply takes my empty cup and pours another glass for me without saying anything, the slight smile on his lips the only real indicator of his reaction.
"I'm glad you like it. This one is one of my favorites," the man softly responds.
I quietly watch him pour the red liquor into the glass while a flash of lightning shines through the curtains in front of the window. I somehow manage to forget that there's even a storm raging outside because I'm way too conscious of the shared moment and space between me and Noah to focus or think about anything else. The deep yet gentle timbre of his voice and the size and length of his slender fingers are just some of the details that I happen to naturally fixate on and notice about him. Everything else that's within sight is simply background and setting to me.
When Noah finishes refilling my wineglass with another helping of liquor, he hands it over to me with a bit of an amused smirk on his face. I humbly accept the glass from him even though I know that I'm probably past my limit of drinking. It wouldn't feel right to refuse him now when I was the one who agreed to his suggestion. Yet the discomfort I feel due to the awkward silence leaves me with no other choice but to keep on drinking as a means to fill that tense void within the room.
The smooth and rich taste of the wine enters my lips for a second time while my curious eyes look around the neat and tidy room which Noah considers his private study. There are a surprising amount of framed photos hanging on the walls and sitting on the shelves, most of the pictures taken within a business setting. Noah is present in every image with a proud smile which I presume to be because of the joyous occasion being celebrated at the time the photograph was taken. Each photo appears to be some sort of a call for celebration based on what I
can only assume to be due to his business efforts.
I gaze at the different photographs across the room in awe and amazement. There is no doubt that Noah is definitely a hard worker and a man of many accomplishments. His successes are even more impressive when I think about how he endlessly works to juggle both fatherhood and his other stressful work obligations. And even though the first impression he gave me of himself was pretty awful and infuriating, I'm glad that I ended up finding out that he isn't as terrible of a man as I first thought he was.
He's actually kind of amazing.
"You know, for what it's worth, you're not doing that bad of a job as her father. And that's a lot more than what I can say about my own deadbeat father," I unabashedly admit with a smile. "Taylor's really lucky to have such a hardworking dad. Even if she doesn't realize it yet."
Noah's entire body perks up as he lifts his head after acknowledging my flattering comment. His vivid green stare looks right into my eyes with a modest look of satisfaction. He seems strangely pleased to hear my small words of praise, and it's almost as though he's gotten a compliment about his parenting for the first time. The faint aura of pride that I sense from his silent yet telling expression is rather endearing. Despite being a man of countless achievements and successes, Noah still manages to feel delight from my praise.
What an unusual man.
I lift the wineglass up to my mouth for another sip when a frightening rumble crashes close by the window, the thunderous noise practically surrounding the whole house. Both my heart and my body automatically jump up in surprise from the sudden startling roar which causes my hand to shake with intense fear. Yet by the time I regain composure of my nerves, the red liquid within the glass already ends up spilling out of the rim from the momentum and landing all over my clothes. I blankly stare at the bright red stains on my top in a bit of drunken suspension.
An awkward laugh escapes me when I realize the blunder, my anxious gaze desperately looking around the vicinity for anything that I could potentially use to wipe down and dry off the mess. But Noah quickly rushes over to my side with a handkerchief and begins helping me clean off the spilled wine. I hardly have a chance to think or react before he starts blotting the cloth against my top, the gentle motion and pressure of his hand pressing up along the side of my breast. My heart naturally begins to race from the presence of his touch against my body.
Flushed cheeks, a warm body temperature, and a rapid heartbeat. These symptoms clearly aren't only from the effects of the alcohol that I've been drinking. Especially not when there's another heavy feeling stirring within my chest and between my thighs. I want to hide my desirous intentions from him, but I know the expression on my face will betray me. All I can do is silently hope that he doesn't notice and pray that the increasing sound of the rain and thunder can mask my true feelings.
But those expectations of mine don't last very long as Noah suddenly stops his hand motions and gradually lifts his face toward me. A strong rush of emotion grabs a hold of my heart while I closely stare into those beautiful green eyes of his which leave me utterly speechless. I can't seem to look away from him no matter how hard I try to resist him. The intimate atmosphere and magnetic attraction keep on pulling and drawing me in until it's too late for me to pretend that I'm not simply staring at him like a young girl who's smitten by the sight of him.
My heart tenses up even tighter than it already was when I feel Noah gently place his hand under my chin and along the side of my neck. There's no time to think or process what he's going to do next before it quickly happens -- an unexpected kiss. I completely freeze up and accept the incident without resistance, my eyes still wide-open from his bold and sudden action. However, my entire world feels like it's constantly spinning in circles as I start to notice the soft texture of his lips against my mouth. Pleasant tingles run down my spine and dance across my chest with each taste of his wine-stained lips.
It's strange. I can't quite explain the satisfying feeling that's coursing through my body because of his lips.
How does a kiss that should have been wrong on so many different levels feel so right at the same time?
Even though there are a bunch of doubts and questions surfacing in my head about what we're doing with each other, I foolishly allow the natural flow of the moment to take me over. The control that I have over my own impulses is weak, and the pleasure derived from Noah's kisses outweighs all the future consequences that I have yet to think of. But as much as I want to continue exploring this heart racing sensation and feeling with him, the moment is cut short when the door to the study promptly swings open.
"Daddy, are you awake? I can't sleep. The thunderstorm is too loud and scary," Taylor complains as she rubs her weary eyes and nonchalantly steps into the room.
Both Noah and I couldn't have jumped and moved any further apart from one another as soon as the child's voice rings out across the air. My nervous gaze ends up pointing toward the floor while my cheeks heat up from the tense and suffocating situation. I can't bring myself to look Taylor in the face without feeling an immediate guilty sensation heavily weighing down on my chest. Though despite her unannounced entrance and terrible timing, the little girl doesn't seem to notice the adult atmosphere lingering in the room at all.
Thank god she's still young.
"Yeah, I was actually just about to go to bed. You can sleep with me tonight," Noah says as he walks over to the door to pick her up into his arms. He then turns his eyes to me and coolly adds without missing a beat, "I'm going to go and tuck Taylor in first. Good night, Cassie."
"Yeah, of course. Good night," I stammer.
After my parting words reach Noah, the father and daughter quietly head out the door and ultimately leave me behind in the study by myself. I'd normally feel uneasy about hanging around in a dimly-lit room when I'm all alone and a storm is raging outside, but I actually like it a lot more this way. The silence and stimulating noise of the rainfall gives me time to think about what the hell just happened between me and my boss. I shakily hold my head in my hands and close my eyes in pure dismay.
What would have happened if Taylor didn't come into the room and interrupt us?
Would we have truly gone all the way and to a point of no return?
These are all important questions that I'm frankly afraid to find out the answers to. But what I'm even more afraid of is what is waiting in store for me when tomorrow comes. I'm scared to think about all the terrible scenarios that might happen when we're forced to address the kiss that took place between us. For the first time in my life, I honestly don't want this dark night or this violent storm to end because there's no telling what tomorrow will bring.
It's kind of crazy that I have absolutely no idea how this dilemma will turn out, but my fingers are tightly crossed. I sincerely hope this doesn't end up becoming one of the biggest regrets of my life.
Noah - 9
Never mix business with pleasure.
It's the one rule that I've always abided by for as long as I can remember. So how did I exactly end up fucking up that rule so badly after sticking by it for so many years? This principle was established during my earlier years because I couldn't avoid mixing business with pleasure in the first place. I had to teach myself to have some self-restraint, but even that didn't stop me from actively pursuing Elizabeth who was only an intern working at my company at the time. Once she accidentally became pregnant, I knew I had to buckle down and stop fooling around.
It was mixing business with pleasure which led me to my first albeit wonderful mistake - Taylor.
Yet here I am now, years later, dealing with the weight of my mistake in breaking that same rule twice. I should never have kissed Cassie even if her eager expression was asking for it. I should have never realized or acknowledged my desire for her once I touched her soft breast. The wine may have played a small role in my lapse of judgment, but I know better than to use that as an excuse for my mistake. I could have completely prevented that kiss from
happening. I was the one who kissed her.
And the worst part about this whole situation with Cassie is that my passion and desire aren't satisfied nor satiated with just one kiss. Regardless of my morals, my heart appears to want even more after kissing her once. It doesn't help that the sensation of her sweet and soft lips remain a vivid feeling and taste in my mind. The last person that's ever made me feel this way was Elizabeth, and I never regretted a single moment or experience that I shared with her.
Unfortunately, the circumstances are different this time around. I can't bring myself to confidently admit or say that I don't regret what I did to Cassie. Maybe it's because a part of me feels guilty for sharing this special feeling and emotion with another woman that isn't Elizabeth. Or maybe it's because Cassie is so much younger than I am and I feel like I took advantage of her in that specific moment.
Hell, I don't know. All I can say for certain is that I'm lacking serious confidence in my questionable decision. I can feel a strong sense of hesitation and anxiety that I never felt before even though I went through the same exact situation with Elizabeth in the past. The inner conflict and struggle between doing what feels right versus doing what feels natural is stronger than ever.
An unexpected hand is shoved and waved back and forth in front of my face. "Hello? Are you even listening to me, Noah?" Jenna irritably asks with a scowl. There's a visibly annoyed expression on her face which she doesn't try to hide from me at all.
"You were talking about how you went home that night after we fought and how you mulled over our argument where you came to the eventual realization that I was right. Taylor isn't your daughter, and you shouldn't have aggressively pushed the matter of boarding school onto me like that," I confidently respond as my gaze slowly shifts toward her and her piercing blue eyes. "Did I happen to miss anything else?"
Daddy's Contract : A Single Dad and Nanny Romance Page 10