Page 67 of The Pumpkin Spice Romance
“Thank you for—” She’d spoken at the same time, also moving toward the light switch on the wall by the open door.
Their hands collided over the switch plate; their eyes met and held, despite the darkness.
The world disappeared around them as the small apartment shrunk to an itty-bitty bubble. Slight inches separated the two as they stood face-to-face in the tight entryway.
A heady scent filled Noah’s senses, an intoxicating blend of Scarlett’s herbal shampoo, her floral hand lotion, and an earthy trace of the ranch land they’d traipsed all day. Desire assaulted him. His ever-presentwantto caress and test the velvet softness of her cheek, to pull her close, and to taste her lips transformed into pureneed.
The clear reflection of yearning in her smoky-blue eyes didn’t help.
Giving in to the powerful urge, Noah smoothed an auburn wave from her face.
“Today was great,” he said, electing for more honesty than simply pointing out how much they’d accomplished. Tucking the strand behind her ear, he forced his eyes to followthe movement. Otherwise, he might’ve drowned in the telling expression — the vulnerable hope — on her face.
Scarlett didn’t answer with words but lifted and lowered her chin in quick succession.
“We make a good team. I mean, it’s coming together so well. Looks fantastic,” he said, striving for casual and friendly. He added a platonic smile and praised the Lord that his voice hadn’t sounded as raw as his nerves felt, zapping and snapping like a live wire. “Everyone’s going to love it,” Noah added, resorting to eager rambling. Anything to cool the sizzling air between them.
“Noah?” Scarlett said in a soft, quiet voice.
He couldn’t help but meet her gaze. And croak.
Noah looked away, anywhere but at Scarlett.
“Thank you,” she said. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
“Happy to help.” His attempt at nonchalance died a quick death when Scarlett lifted a hand to his cheek, forcing Noah to look at her. His end-of-day scruff acted as a conduit rather than insulation; though her touch was gentle, it might as well have singed his skin, he was so aware of it.
“Please don’t shrug it off — my gratitude,” she said, her voice both insistent and pleading at once. “Relying on others is. . .well, a foreign concept. I’ve been an army of one and oftentimes on the defensive before anyone can offer to help meor get too close. I’ve discovered the hard way that there’s one person I can count on, and that’s always been me. But you’re different. You’ve been by my side all week, and I appreciate it.”
“Scarlett—” She cut him off by placing her fingers against his lips — like he’d done to her, but also nothingat alllike that moment the day before.
“You don’t have to say anything,” she whispered. “I just wanted you to know I appreciateyou.”
Scarlett moved her hand to cup his cheek again. Scarlett didnothave a future in poker. An open book, her emotions — gratitude, yes, but also so much more — were easy to read.
Noah laid his palm over her hand, relishing the heat of her soft skin.
“There’s no place else I’d rather be,” he told her, fighting one mighty internal tug-of-war.
The devil on his shoulder told him to kiss the girl. He wanted to —badly.
But his conscience saidStop. Between moving to a new town, starting a new job, and taking over the main event of a festival she’d never attended, Scarlett had a lot on her plate. Adding another flaming baton to her juggling act didn’t seem fair. And above all else, Noah strove to make her life better, not add to her stress.
He exhaled his emotions, forced a kind smile, and stepped away from the most irresistible earthly temptation he’d ever known.
8
Nice guys finish first.
If you don’t know that,
then you don't know
where the finish line is.
Garry Shandling
Thursday, October 1, 2026
