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I feel my head nodding. “Of course, I trust you, Noah,” I tell him honestly, without a doubt I trust him.
“Then trust me when I tell you that what’s in the case isn’t mine and I promised to deliver it to someone, with no questions asked,” he says firmly but calmly.
I want to tell him all about what Dad said, to tell him the Sheriff will probably be here any minute, but he only puts a finger to his lips and then to mine before he kisses me, making me forget everything again.
I forget how crazy I was just now, the magic of his lips on mine takes me away from everything like it really is just Noah and me.
Always will be.
On the one hand, it breaks my heart to think about just leaving without even seeing Dad. But when he kisses me, when he holds me like this, I know it’s all I really want.
It’s all I really need.
“I promise you, Faith,” he says, “That soon it’ll be over. That soon it’ll make sense. But for now, I just need you to trust me, okay?”
I chew my lip for a moment until I realize he’s only waiting for me to say what I’ve already decided.
“Of course,” I blurt out, knowing I’d go anywhere, do anything he asked of me.
Not because I can’t think for myself or because I’m afraid.
But because I love him.
I’m not just in love with Noah Templeton.
I know I actually do love him, mind, body, and soul.
Wanting to tell him so, I miss my moment, and in a second he’s making us both something to eat.
“Is there really time for that?” I ask, still not wanting to worry him with the Sheriff thing, but not wanting to hold us up any more than is needed either.
“There’s always time to eat,” he says jovially, reminding me I need to eat as well and he wants to see me eating three meals a day from now on.
Seeing Noah relaxed again, happy; it makes me relaxed and happy.
Sort of.
I want to apologize for acting so crazy just now but I know it wouldn’t matter. Noah takes me as I am, every mood, and every moment.
I can only honor him by doing the same, and I remind myself to do as he just asked and trust him like a woman who loves him should.
“What about my Dad?” I hear myself asking.
More like I’m asking myself out loud. I can see his face in my mind, the hurt and the worry. The pain he’ll be in once he knows I’ve left with Noah.
“It’s not like we’re going to the moon, Faith. I just have to drive to Louisiana, make my delivery and then we can do whatever you want.”
Hearing him say it so simply takes the edge off, but I know my Dad won’t see it that way.
“It’ll all make sense in a day or two, tops. I promise, Faith. When was the last time you got out anyway?” he asks me.
“I only came back from college yesterday, been gone four years, only came home twice for two days at a time,” I tell him truthfully with a straight face.
“Oh. Well, no harm in keeping that momentum going for another day or so, eh?” he asks, looking away gnawing his own lip now.
He’s started to do what I do. I never noticed him do that before.
I wonder what other habits we’ll pick up from each other.
A couple of days? I think even my Dad should be okay with that unless I tell him who I’m with.
“I think Dad will be fine with it,” I announce, deciding to lie to my Dad instead.
Like a lot of things lately, there’s a first time for everything, and a white lie to my Dad to protect his feelings is worth more than a ton of the truth I now would crush him right now.
Noah stops what he’s preparing and comes over to me, his arms wrapping around me and squeezing me tight.
“I meant what I said, Faith. My life started yesterday. Everything else is deadwood that will fall away.”
I want to ask him about the case again, but know better now.
“What is it about your past that’s so bad?” I ask instead, only hoping to understand him better.
He holds my face in his hands and kisses me gently before answering, “It wasn’t so bad. Every minute was leading up to the moment I met you,” he says cryptically.
“I never really think about the past,” I tell him.
“It’s always been just me and Dad here, then I went off to college. My whole life’s been more about the future than the past.”
“And what did you major in at college?” he asks with interest, relaxing his grip so he can keep making us something to eat.
“Economics,” I tell him, making a face that almost mirrors his as he screws it up.
