Soaring with Fallon

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Soaring with Fallon Page 4

by Kristen Proby

“I’m used to it now.” I shrug and pull my legs up under me, watching as Noah’s eyebrows climb in interest. “Some of the classes are harder than others. I do beginners’ yoga, which is pretty basic and not taxing on me at all. But I also do core yoga, and that can kick my ass.”

  His gaze roams all over me, and I know he’s trying to picture what I must look like under my yoga pants and fitted tank.

  I’m proud of my body. I wasn’t always in such good shape, although I am genetically blessed with a petite figure. I’ve worked damn hard to be this toned and strong.

  And I have a feeling he’ll see it sooner rather than later.

  I smile and take the last bite of eggs before I take my plate to the sink, rinse it, and put it in the dishwasher.

  “What about you? How does your day look?” I ask.

  “I’m usually over at the sanctuary before the sun comes up,” he says with a shrug. “And I come home whenever the work is done. Some days, it’s by suppertime, and other times, it’s after dark.”

  “I guess that’s what you get when you own the place.”

  He nods and stands, setting his own plate in the sink as he lays a key on the countertop.

  “That’s for you,” he says casually. “It works in both the knob and the deadbolt.”

  “You’re giving me a key?”

  “You’re staying here, and I don’t know when I’ll be home later, so yeah. It’s just a key, Fallon.” He kisses my forehead again, and I’m pretty sure I melt into a pile of mushy goo. “I’d better get ready to head out.”

  He walks down the hall to his bedroom, and I stare at the key on the counter. Of course, he gave me a key. It’s not because I’m moving in with him permanently, but because I’m staying here.

  It makes sense.

  And it makes butterflies take flight in my belly.

  Which is dumb.

  “Ridiculous,” I mutter as I rinse and place Noah’s plate in the dishwasher with mine, then walk into my room to gather my water bottle, mat, and handbag.

  When I get to the living room, Noah’s just about to walk out the front door.

  He holds it open for me, and I step outside, and then I’m suddenly jerked back inside.

  “Whoa,” he says, pointing.

  “Holy shit,” I whisper and swallow hard. “That’s a bear.”

  “Good eye,” he says, and I elbow him in the side for his smartassery, earning a laugh. The bear’s head comes up at the sound, and I freeze again.

  “He’s going to eat us.”

  “It’s just a little black bear,” Noah says softly. “He’s just moseying around, looking for some berries.”

  “Or human flesh,” I add.

  “He’s not a grizzly.”

  I tip my head back to stare up at Noah in terror. “Do you get grizzlies out here?”

  “Maybe once a year,” he says. “Too many people.”

  “Oh, God.” I swallow hard. “I don’t do well with bears.”

  “Look, he’s walking away.”

  The beast is lumbering through the yard toward the woods about fifty yards from the house.

  “Maybe he lives in those trees,” I say.

  “Probably so,” Noah replies as if it’s no big deal at all.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t stay here after all.”

  He urges me onto the porch and frowns down at me. “Because of a harmless little black bear?”

  “Maybe he’s not harmless.”

  “Did he look ferocious? Fallon, he’s a little guy. He was just wandering through. Nothing to worry about.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Trust me. I’ve lived out here my whole life, and no one has ever been eaten by a bear on this property.”

  I raise a brow. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Yeah. Did it?”

  “No.” He laughs and waves as he sets off across the pasture to the sanctuary. “See you later.”

  I wave back and climb into the Jeep. I have time to swing by Drips & Sips for some tea on my way to the Lodge for my first class, and I can drive by the house to see if anyone’s there yet.

  Probably not. It’s just after seven, for Pete’s sake.

  But I’m pleasantly surprised to see a work truck and Jenna’s SUV parked in front of the house when I drive past, so I stop and knock on the open front door.

  “Hey, guys.”

  “Hey,” Jenna says, turning around. “Fallon, this is Grayson King, Noah’s brother.”

  “Oh, hi.” I smile and hold out my hand to Gray. “I’ve heard about you.”

  “Same goes,” he says with a wink. Before I can ask him what he means by that, he continues. “This is pretty bad. Looks like the shower upstairs has been leaking in the wall for some time, and finally soaked through the drywall down here.”

  “I see most of the standing water is gone.” I look around. “I hope it doesn’t cause mold.”

  “It’ll be tested before you move back in,” Jenna replies. “Gray just said it’ll be about three days of repairs.”

  “Wow.” I swallow hard.

  “And then I’ll have to have the space tested for mold, and we need to make sure everything is dried out, not to mention, I have to replace the furniture. So,” Jenna continues, “I’d say you’ll probably be out of here for about a week.”

  “A week?” I squeak.

  “Sorry,” she says and cringes. “I’ll totally pay for a hotel if you like.”

  “I have a place to stay,” I reply, ignoring the look that Jenna and Gray exchange. “I’ll let Noah know. I’m really sorry about this. I never had any indication that it was happening. I didn’t see any drips or a wet spot in the ceiling.”

  “Not your fault,” Gray says. “This is an older house, and my guess is the plumbing hasn’t been updated in about twenty years.”

  “Or more,” Jenna agrees. “I should have done that when I bought it.”

  “But I was too eager to move in,” I remind her. “Just keep me posted on when I can move back in.”

  “Will do. See you at the ten o’clock class,” Jenna says with a smile, and I wave as I leave.

  Looks like I’ll be staying with Noah for a while.

  I’ve just walked into the studio when I check my phone and see a text come in from Penny.

  Finally, she’s replying to me. She’s been gone for less than a week, but I miss her.

  Penny: So I may be working for someone famous, not the plan, remember the band Adrenaline?

  I frown down at the phone. Remember them? They’re only my favorite ever.

  Me: TELL ME EVERYTHING, and I thought you were working at a coffee shop. In fact you sent me a picture of you at that very coffee shop yesterday morning? Did you quit? Why aren’t you keeping me updated? Also if you don’t respond asap you’re dead.

  I smirk as I send the message. Claire and Penny are two people who don’t mind my bluntness. I haven’t seen Claire in years, but Penny is someone I can hang out with and not be exhausted after.

  Penny: I may be working for Trevor Wood as a part-time nanny before his kids start school and I may have said yes without thinking and now I’m staring at my phone like I’m more than the hired help and I’m one day in.”

  Me: Trevor Wood. The Trevor Wood? Hottest drummer alive? Six-pack for days? That Trevor Wood?

  Holy shit! Lucky Penny. But then I think back to Noah and his hard abs and I’m not so jealous anymore.

  Penny: Yes, focus! We texted a bit last night, and he was flirty, I was flirty…

  Me: Aw, did he pass you a note in biology too? Maybe you guys can play MASH later!

  I toss my head back and laugh as I add a house, car, and vacation emoji.

  Penny: Very funny. I need you to virtually slap me so I stop overthinking this. I’m the nanny. That’s it.

  Me: Consider yourself slapped, you’re the nanny but that doesn’t mean you can’t still be open to something more…adventurous. I mean that is why you abandoned us, isn’t it? You needed a
change of scenery and God in his mysterious ways gave you Trevor Wood! Bitch.

  Penny: So…just roll with it?

  Me: I want notes at the end of every day. Or I’m killing you.

  Penny: I miss you.

  Me: I miss you too. Facetime later?

  Penny: Yes please.

  Me: Preferably when you’re at work, I wouldn’t be mad.

  Penny: Signed an NDA so not a word!

  Me: Lips are sealed. Love you.

  Penny: You too.

  I slip my phone into my bag and get ready for my first class.

  Chapter Four

  ~Fallon~

  It’s just not my day.

  To start, after my first class, I finally ran over to Drips & Sips to snag a cup of tea, and then spilled said tea all over my hand, burning it.

  Then, I had a client wrench her back because she tried too hard, and another class that had zero people show up.

  None. Nada.

  Of course, that wasn’t my last class of the day, where I could have just gone home for the rest of the afternoon. No, that would have been too easy. It was my noon class, so I decided to take myself out to lunch.

  Sounds perfect, right?

  Wrong.

  I found a hair in my sandwich. Yep, one of those hairs. Short and coarse, and all I could think was that some guy in the kitchen had just scratched his crotch before he made my sandwich. I just couldn’t stomach eating. Of course, I wasn’t charged for the meal, but still.

  Gross.

  My last class started at two. It was usually my favorite of the day because it’s a beginner class, and I generally get a lot of tourists.

  And I did have a full room, with not one familiar face.

  But I also had a group of about five teenagers who were in town with their parents and decided they wanted to try yoga. They laughed, giggled, and mocked me the entire hour, ruining the experience for everyone else.

  I asked them not to come back.

  So now I’m irritable, my hand hurts, I’m hungry but still grossed out by the pubic hair, and I’m as far away from my center as I can get.

  I don’t like it.

  I hope Noah isn’t home when I get there. I don’t want him to see me like this. He barely knows me; he shouldn’t have to see grumpy Fallon so soon.

  I pull into the driveway and let out a gusty breath.

  Of course, he’s home. Because the Universe is out to get me today.

  Noah’s just hopping off his lawnmower, covered in sweat and rubbing his sweaty forehead with his forearm as he walks to me.

  “Hey, you,” he says in greeting.

  “Hey, yourself.” I try to smile but feel like it falls flat.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I sigh. I can’t lie to this guy. And it seems I can’t hide my emotions from him either. He calls me out on being evasive, and rather than get annoyed like I usually do, I find myself wanting to confide in him.

  All of this is a brand-new experience for me.

  “Shitty day,” I say when he cocks a brow at me. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home already.”

  “I have more volunteers than I know what to do with this time of year,” he says, glancing over at the sanctuary. “Summer brings them out in droves, which is helpful, but honestly, all of the people being underfoot makes me stabby. So, I leave them to my staff when I start to get twitchy.”

  “Best not to stick around.” I smile and step up onto the porch.

  “Want some company?” he asks as he opens the door for me. “I’ll go get a quick shower in first, though. I’m sticky.”

  “Sure.”

  He winks and disappears down the hallway.

  Did I just agree to company when I’m irritable? It seems I did.

  Because, apparently, I’m trying all kinds of new things lately.

  I walk down to my room and quickly change my clothes into denim shorts and a fresh tank. The only good thing about not having any boobs to speak of is I don’t need a bra, especially when it’s hotter than balls outside.

  It’s crazy to me how cold it gets in the winter, and then just a few months later, it seems Satan himself is vacationing in Montana, bringing the heat with him.

  I pad barefoot out to the living room. I’m hungry, but nothing sounds good, so I just sit on the couch and sigh.

  It’s quiet here. There’s no traffic noise, no people walking past the house. It’s just silent.

  And it’s pure bliss.

  “I smell better,” Noah announces as he saunters into the room. He’s changed into cargo shorts and a Spread Your Wings T-shirt. His dark hair is wet from the shower. “So, what happened today?”

  “What didn’t happen today?” I laugh and pull my legs up under me. “I burned my hand.”

  “Let me see.” He sits next to me and reaches for my hand, careful not to touch the tender skin. “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. I’ll put some lavender oil on it, and it’ll heal in a couple days, but it sucked. A client injured herself in class because she was showing off for her friend.”

  I roll my eyes. Noah rests his elbow on the back of the brown leather couch and listens intently.

  “Then, I didn’t have anyone show up for my noon class, so I decided to go out for lunch.”

  “Nice.”

  “And found a pubic hair in my sandwich.”

  “Gah.” He makes a choking noise and presses his fist to his mouth. “Jesus, that’s gross.”

  “Pretty gross,” I agree and then tell him about the idiot teens in my last class. “It was just a very trying day.”

  “I have something for you,” he says and jumps up, walks to the kitchen, and returns with a small tub of ice cream and a spoon. “Pistachio.”

  “You bought me ice cream.” I stare at it, touched that he thought to get my favorite.

  “Just in time for a shitty day,” he confirms as I spoon a bite into my mouth.

  “I feel a tiny bit guilty for eating this when I haven’t had dinner yet.”

  “You know, one of my favorite things about being an adult is that I can eat ice cream for dinner and no one gets to tell me I can’t.”

  “Get your own,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. He pads back into the kitchen and returns with another small pint of his own.

  “There. Dinner’s solved,” he says with a satisfied grin and takes a bite of rocky road.

  He looks good sitting over there, one leg up on the couch so he can face me. He’s tanned all over, and there go those arms again, flexing and looking sexy.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks and licks his spoon.

  Rather than answer, I set my ice cream on the coffee table, take his and do the same, and then I straddle him right here on the couch as if I’ve done it a million times before.

  There’s something about Noah that makes me feel comfortable, and I’m not going to overthink it right now.

  “I like your arms,” I reply as his hands firmly cup my ass.

  “I caught you looking at them earlier.”

  “I know.”

  “You didn’t care.”

  “Nope. You have good arms, what’s to be sorry about?” I lean over and kiss his cheek. The hands on my ass tighten.

  “So the chemistry here is off the fucking charts,” he says as one hand roams from my butt, under my tank, and then up my back. “And you’re not wearing a bra.”

  “Nope.” I grin before covering his lips with my own. The kiss is hot but slow. I’m exploring him, his lips and his tongue, and reveling in him exploring my body. I brace myself with my hands on his strong shoulders, enjoying the way the muscles move under my palms.

  The next thing I know, I’m flat on my back on the couch, and he’s over me. He’s pinned my hands over my head with one hand and uses the other to cup one breast under my shirt, still kissing the hell out of me.

  I’m cradling him with my thighs, and I can feel him harden and lengthen. Everything about Noah King is just delicious.

  And I wan
t every inch of him.

  He finally releases my hands to tug my shirt over my head and tosses it on the floor. His lips instantly latch onto a nipple, making me arch my back, pressing closer to him. Not for the first time, I wish my breasts were more impressive.

  “God, you’re so fucking sweet,” he growls, gliding his hand up and down my torso. “Your skin is soft.”

  I bury my fingers in his damp hair, holding on tightly as that magical hand unfastens my shorts and slides down to the promised land.

  “Jesus, Fal, you’re so wet.”

  “I’m so turned on.” I moan, circling my hips and encouraging him to push those fingers inside me.

  I’m not disappointed.

  “Yes,” I breathe, clenching onto his fingers and riding him like a woman possessed.

  “My God, just look at you,” he says, his brown eyes shining with lust. “You’re amazing.”

  “You’re doing this,” I remind him, just as his phone rings. “Ignore it.”

  But his hand is already gone, and the orgasm I was reaching for has retreated.

  “Damn it,” he grumbles. “I’m so sorry. It’s my emergency line. I have to answer.”

  His eyes are on mine as he accepts the call. “King. Yeah. Yeah.”

  And I see it. He’s needed somewhere, and this will have to wait for another time. “Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  He ends the call and immediately covers me again to kiss me silly. But when he pulls away, I see the regret in his eyes.

  “I have to go,” he says. “I’m so damn sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Where are we going?”

  He grins. “We?”

  “Hell, yes. You don’t get to do that to me and then run off without me. Where are we going?”

  “West of town about ten miles, toward the Lazy K Ranch.”

  I’m not sure what a Lazy K Ranch is. “Can I have my shirt back?”

  “Regrettably, yes.” He kisses me once more before standing and taking the ice cream to the kitchen. “But I’m taking it off again later.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  * * * *

  “Babies,” I whisper as I climb out of Noah’s truck and follow him to the side of the road where an older couple is waiting, watching a cluster of little balls of fluff.

  “Thanks for calling,” Noah says to the man, shaking his hand. “Fallon, this is my uncle Jeff and aunt Nancy King.”

 

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