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Walking the streets of Marietta, thinking of all his dad had said to him, he’d wandered into the lobby of the Graff Hotel and decided to sit for lunch. He passed a tiny gift shop, the jewelry box catching his eye as it sat on its perch in the window. The instinct that Noelle had to have it urged him into the store to purchase it, have it wrapped, and delivered to her studio that afternoon.
Even though they were scheduled to bake the next day together, he couldn’t stop whatever it was inside him that drew him to her. He didn’t just want her, he needed her. And he was a man who didn’t have a single need in his life.
He’d made his way to her studio, glad to find the door unlocked, but unsure if she was still there since the lights were low. Mesmerized by the sight of her dancing, he’d stopped short and couldn’t move. Like a statue, he stayed a mere step inside the door, drawn in by her graceful movements. Wes had seen professional ballet performances in his life. But this, this was something different.
She moved the music as much as it moved her in a seamless flow of motion. Her eyes were closed, taking each step by feel and memory. Man, she must have been something to behold on a large stage. Although he preferred what he saw before him. Her talent took his breath away; her beauty captured his heart.
The spell broke like the snapping of a twig, however, when she grabbed her right thigh and crumpled to the ground. The music continued but all Wes heard were her sobs as she lay there. In three steps he was beside her, kneeling to where he could wrap her in his arms. Grateful for many reasons, he let out the breath he’d been holding when she let him pull her to him.
“Noelle, are you all right?” He whispered in her ear.
She nodded, her head moving against his chest, but her tears still continued to flow.
In the middle of the floor of her studio, he knelt with her in his arms. Unsure of the level of pain she was in, his gut said to hold her and wait. So he did. He’d wait forever if she’d agree to stay and never let go.
Her crying subsided and she looked up at him. The tears that welled in her blue eyes and her pink, tear-stained cheeks almost gutted him. “Are you okay to stand?”
She nodded again.
He stood, her body still wrapped up close. “Can you put weight on it?”
“Yes.” Although she stood on her own, she still leaned into him, her hands clinging to the front of his button-down shirt beneath his long wool coat.
The song that had been playing ended and Keith Urban began singing about blue not being the color for the woman he loves. In that moment, Wes could understand the sentiment. Looking down at her, feeling her lean into him, he began to sway them back and forth. A subtle, gentle rocking, so as not to hurt her leg; they found the beat of the music and moved together, her clinging to him as a lifeline, him praying they could stay that way forever.
The first time they’d danced together at Grey’s he’d guessed she was a professional dancer. Intrigued by her, he’d wanted to know more. Now, he wanted everything. Any fear he’d ever had about the white picket fence, the slower pace of life, the forever that so many had—he’d run from it but now he wanted it. And he wanted it with her.
“Thank you for the lovely gift.” Although she almost whispered, her voice echoed through the room.
So lost in thoughts of wanting forever with this woman, he fought to comprehend what she was talking about.
“The jewelry box. It’s beautiful.”
“Oh. Yes. You’re welcome. I saw it and…well, I knew you had to have it.”
She nodded and looked down, tears rolling down her cheeks once more.
He stopped their dancing but continued to hold her close with one arm as he lifted her chin with his other hand so their eyes met. It pained him to no end seeing the hurt in her eyes. He’d move heaven and earth to change that. “Why the tears again? Is it your leg?”
She shook her head back and forth, releasing her chin from his hand.
“Then what is it, Noelle? Please name it and I’ll fix it.”
Her eyes met his once more as she said, “Why are you being so nice to me?”
He pulled back a bit. Was she serious? Glad she looked at him again, he read her eyes. She wasn’t questioning a nice present or kind gesture. It was his feelings for her she doubted. And could he blame her? Sure, he’d never meant to come across as dishonest in how he handled the Spellman situation, and although they’d shared hot kisses that left him awake at night wanting more, he’d never once told her how he felt about her. Never once said a solid yes about staying in Marietta or wanting her in his life. Hell, he’d doubted himself all this time. But not anymore. Not about Noelle.
“Why are you still in Marietta? There’s nothing here for you.”
“You’re here. And I’m in love with you.”
It was her turn to pull back, her hands moving from his chest to his biceps, his hands now at her waist.
“I…I don’t…”
“Don’t say anything. I said that to be honest with you, not to get a response.”
She shook her head and looked down. “There’s just so much happening all at once. So much to figure out.”
