Noah Brown. A collection of Alaskan Bush People Fan Fiction stories

Kill Me Now. Part 3

By the time you had recovered from the shock of Noah saying you were beautiful, he had climbed to his knees and was holding out a hand to help you up. Embarrassingly aware of how much you weighed, you didn't want him to try to pull you up. So you dipped your head and pretended you didn't see his outstretched hand as you pushed yourself to a sitting position.

"I think I'll sit here for a while." You blinked up at him and rubbed at your sore shin. It really didn't hurt that much anymore but you wanted an excuse to sit for a minute. It was all too much to take in. You had exposed your naked belly to Noah, slammed the door in his face and knocked him to the floor. All of that within 15 minutes of meeting him. But for him to look you directly in the eye and tell you you were beautiful, you simply didn't know what to think.

"Thank you." You finally managed to say.

"You're welcome." Noah replied with a tilt to his head.

The two of you stared and smiled at each other for a few more seconds before you dropped your eyes again. It was so unnerving to have him look so closely at you. He was so handsome and you wanted to believe his words, but you hadn't heard them from a man in so long that you just couldn't be sure. When you looked away, Noah reached out and slid a hand along your leg and began to roll up your pant leg.

"What are you doing?" You asked more sharply than you intended.

"I want to look at your leg. What did you do to it?" He asked and continued to roll up the leg of your stretch denim jeans.

"Uhhhh..." You fumbled trying to find the right words.

You didn't want to tell him you were so clumsy that you couldn't get off the couch without smacking into your own coffee table that had sat in the same spot for over six months. But if you didn't tell him the truth then he might think that you were so overweight that your legs couldn't hold you up. You really were an attractive, smart woman who had it all together. Most of the time. At least you felt that way until Noah Brown stepped through your front door and your brain began to react as if you were a giggly thirteen year old. But none of that mattered any longer as you realized Noah was struggling to roll your pant leg up past the meaty part of your calf.

"Stretch, dammit, stretch!" Your mind screamed at the disloyal denim fabric. Visions of a huge bonfire with the jeans bursting into red and yellow and blue flame flashed before your eyes.

"They're skinny jeans." You explained quietly to Noah as he wrestled a little with the tight material. "They probably won't push up any higher."

Noah immediately stopped his attempts and rested a warm hand on your exposed ankle. The sensation was pleasant but your heart was pounding like a drum inside your chest. He was looking at you again and you were aware of the ripe smell from the pizza box on the table nearby. If Noah noticed, he didn't give any indication. He continued to look at you and smile at you until you began to get really nervous.

"Uhhhhhh...." Dang-it! Did you have to start every sentence like that? "I'll get you those tools."

You rolled to your knees and hopped up as gracefully and quickly as you could and limped to the kitchen to look for the metal box of tools. Making sure your sweater was pulled down over your belly and your butt, you dug around in the pantry and thankfully found what you were looking for right away. You tucked the toolbox in the crook of one arm and grabbed up the hammer that was lying on the floor of the pantry. As you swung around, your arms full, you came face to face with Noah.

"Oh, sorry!" Your breath whooshed out of you. " Didn't realize you were right there."

"I didn't mean to scare you. But I wanted to ask you something." Noah's voice was calm.

He backed up a few inches and relieved you of the toolbox and the hammer. His blue eyes were mesmerizing and you felt yourself beginning to lose your breath again. It was funny that even though you didn't know him at all, you wanted him. Heaven help you, but you wanted him so much. You wanted to believe he really thought you were beautiful. You knew you were pretty. You always had been. But those extra pounds shook your confidence just enough to let your mind mess with you. Wasn't it possible that he was only being polite to get free use of your tools to fix his motorbike? That tiny bit of doubt set off all kinds of new fears in your mind.

In those few seconds as you looked at each other, you could have reached into the pantry, hurled a box of Mac and cheese at his head and run away. You could have screamed, "Look out!" and pointed behind him and when he turned to look you could have darted past him into your bedroom. But of course you didn't do any of that. Standing your ground was the only way to learn the truth. So you smiled your best smile and lifted your head to his and waited for Noah to ask what he wanted to ask.

"Do you live here alone?" He asked.

That struck you as funny and you chuckled a little. "It depends."

"It depends on what?" Noah's eyebrow shot up at your response.

"It depends on whether or not you're an axe murderer and plan to kill me."

Since he was holding in his arms every tool you owned and your best hammer, you hoped and prayed he wasn't a psycho.

"I'd be a pretty bad axe murderer since I didn't bring my own axe." He joked.

"Maybe you're just inexperienced." You ventured and gave Noah a flirty smile.

"No." He said and turned to walk toward the front door.

You limped a little faster to reach the door before he got there. Your mind raced to try to find something to say to keep him talking a little longer. He had walked away so abruptly you thought you might have made him angry. His long blonde ponytail swayed a little as he walked and his tight black shirt kept you from being able to breathe normally. Reaching the door at the same time he did, you pulled it open and pushed down your disappointment. Your little joke about him being an axe murderer clearly ticked him off and he was leaving. But if he didn't even have a sense of humor...

"If I was an axe murderer?" He turned and looked at you, a big smile on his face.

"If you were...?" You prompted and excitement flooded through you in an instant.

"I would hang up my axe forever before I would destroy anything as lovely as you."

"Smoooooooth..." You whispered and Noah burst out laughing.

As Noah walked out the door with a promise to return with your tools as quickly as he could, you caught a glimpse of your happy face in the round mirror you kept hanging my the door. The blood drained from your cheeks as you realized what you were seeing. Slowly closing the front door, you reached up with one trembling hand and dragged the small white plastic fork out of your hair. Did it tangle in there when you were bent over the pizza box ripping open the little pack of utensils to get to the paper napkin? Did it find its way in there when you dragged Noah down onto the floor with you? You truly had no idea how long it had been there and frankly, you didn't care anymore. Holding the fork tightly in your fist, you lifted it close to your face and yelled,

"Why are you even here!!" You screamed at the poor defenseless fork. "Who eats pizza with a fork anyway!?" Your yell of frustration was louder than you expected and when the knock on your door came only seconds later, you weren't at all surprised.

Yanking open the door to face Noah, you smiled and held up a hand. Not the hand with the white plastic fork. "I'm fine." You said before he could open his mouth. "Finish your work. I'll see you in a few."

Slamming the door once again on Noah, you rolled your eyes and sighed, "Kill. Me. Now."