My stomach cramped. Who was Griff? Why was he talking to Noel aboutbuyers?
“Well, this is a familiar sight,” Noel said lightly from behind me. The scent of coffee wafted in with him. “I hope you’re not looking for that box of toys again, or I really haven’t been doing my job.”
My throat tightened, and I half turned. “Your phone went off. Fell under the bed. You’ve got new messages.”
“Oh, sorry. Did it wake you? I was hoping to bring you coffee in bed and repay the favor you did me last night.”
My mind raced, barely able to process his words.
This Griff was helping Noel find buyers for the tree farm. Did his parents know? Was I purposely kept out of the loop, or?—
No. Ed would never agree, not until he was incapable of walking, at least.
“Was this your plan all along?” I asked.
Noel came over and put the coffee down on the end table. “To keep you in bed for as long as possible? Hell yeah.”
He bent to kiss me, and I dodged him and scrambled to my feet. “I knew you might not stay, but damn, Noel, I thought you cared about me. I thought you?—”
My voice broke, and I suddenly felt far too naked. I set the phone on the bedside table and crossed to the dresser to pull out underwear.
“I do care, Hopper,” Noel said, sounding bewildered.
He was a good actor. Had to give him that.
I pulled on my boxer briefs and snatched up jeans and a shirt from the floor.
“I care so much,” Noel continued. “I don’t understand what’s happening right now. Why are you upset?”
I pointed at the phone. “Read your fucking messages. You’ve got a lead on a buyer for the farm. Congrats.”
I couldn’t bear to stay while Noel read those messages and saw that all his problems were solved.
He could sell the farm, give his parents a comfy retirement nest egg, and leave me far behind.
So, I walked out.
CHAPTER 23
NOEL
My stomach twistedas I read Griff’s message and realized what Hopper must think.
That I’d tried to sell the farm behind his back. Without a care for how it might affect him. Maybe even without my parents’ blessing.
It couldn’t be further from the truth. I loved that hotheaded, stubborn, utterly perfect man.
Loved being here on the farm.
And last night, my eyes had truly been opened. I loved being a chef, but I didn’t love working in kitchens where tempers ran hot, stress was my constant companion, and there was no time left for anything else in my life.
No time for family. No time for love.
But here, it could be different.
I rushed for the door. I had to stop Hopper. Had to explain. My pulse rushed in my ears, fear whispering terrible thoughts in my head.
What if he doesn’t believe you?
