Page 48 of Shattered Oaths

NOAH

By the time I trudge up the steps of my front porch the following evening, I’m bone tired.

It’s been a while since we have done a cattle move that far out. I forgot how exhausting it can be wrangling hundreds with only a few of us on horseback. As much as I love what we do, love the outdoors and the freedom of camping out in the wild with my brothers and friends, I can’t wait to have a hot shower and climb into my own bed for the night.

I was consumed with thoughts of Bella last night. When Hunter told me that we needed to move the cows out west instead of the original back pasture and it was going to be an overnight trip, I was worried about leaving her alone. I know Bella well enough to know that she’d never admit to me that she was also worried, but I saw the panic in her eyes the second I told her I wouldn’t be home. So, I may have roped Liv in to help me organise a girls’ night on the ranch for her.

I knew she wouldn’t want to go out to the bar because the risks of running into Justin are high, so I figured here on the ranch where she feels safe was the next best thing.

If Bella’s texts were anything to go by, I’d say someone ratted me out, but I don’t care. I never want her to feel afraid here. I want her to feel at home.

In some part, my actions were a little selfish. A desperate attempt to show her what life could be like if she stayed here. That her closest friends and family are just a short walk away.

I push my key into the lock on the front door and turn it, using the slither of energy I have left to push the door open and step inside.

The smell that hits me is sensational and my stomach growls on cue, reminding me that I haven’t eaten a thing since breakfast.

“Bells?” I call out, toeing off my cowboy boots in the entryway.

“Kitchen,” she calls back and just the sound of her angelic voice brings a smile to my face.

“It smells amazing in here.” Rounding the corner, my eyes widen as I take in the food spread across the kitchen island in various serving dishes.

“Wow,” I say, not sure where to look first. Each tray holds something different, and my eyes drifts from the roasted chicken in the middle to the mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables before landing on the perfectly crisped mac and cheese.

“I figured you’d be hungry when you got home.” Bella shrugs, her hands twisting a hand towel in front of her.

“You figured right. I’m starving,” I say with a chuckle, pulling out a stool and taking a seat. “Seriously, Bells. This looks amazing.”

She smiles shyly, her cheeks taking on a pink hue and turns her back, busying herself at the sink. My brows pinch. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

Glancing over her shoulder, she says, “Oh. Yeah, I just thought I’d clean up a little first.”

I shake my head. “Leave that, I’ll do it. Come and eat.” I pick up a plate and begin loading it with a little of everything as I wait for her to do the same.

She doesn’t.

“Bella. Come and eat with me,” I say again, watching her shoulders fall in defeat as she puts down the roasting tin she was scrubbing. Picking up a second plate, I load that up for her and place it on the island next to me.

Bella reaches for the hand towel, drying off her hands before finally coming to sit beside me and I wave my fork toward the food. “You cook; I clean.”

“You’ve just finished work after camping out in a field. I will clean,” she argues.

I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter. You cook; I clean. It’s non-negotiable.”

I shovel a forkful of chicken into my mouth and release a groan at the explosion of flavours just as her pretty grey eyes roll into the back of her head and almost cause me to choke on my food. “You’re being ridiculous. You’ve given me somewhere to live for the past month. Worked basically a thirty-six-hour shift and went out of your way to invite my friends over. Cooking and cleaning is the least I can do, Noah.”

Placing my fork down, I turn in my chair, using my feet to turn hers so that she’s facing me. “Listen to me, and listen real good ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once, okay?” I look between her eyes, waiting for her to nod.

“I don’t know what kind of nineteen fifties shit your slimeball ex was into, but in this house, hell, I can bet in every house on this ranch, we split responsibilities. You cook? I clean. You do laundry? I put it away. You do the grocery shop? I pay.”

She glares at me on that last one, just like I knew she would and I wait for the inevitable rebuttal. She doesn’t disappoint.

“First of all, I haven’t done a single piece of your laundry since I got here because you always do it yourself. Secondly, I am perfectly capable of buying some groceries. I own a business, in case you forgot. And third, this has nothing to do with the nineteen fifties, my ex or responsibilities. This is me saying thank you so stop being a macho dickhead and eat your food.”

I don’t think she realised it but with every point she made, her face moved closer to mine and now we’re only a breath apart. My eyes flick down to hers on instinct and I wet my lips as I look back up at her.

“Anything else?” I ask, my breaths coming in short, sharp pants. She’s so close I can almost taste her.