Carter Westlake is on the brink of being Hollywood gold. Cast as the lead in a highly-anticipated sci-fi trilogy filming in Australia, he’s primed to be the next A-list action hero: all-American, hot as hell, and straight. The problem is, Carter can only check off two of those boxes. But that’s okay—his bisexuality can remain a secret until these movies are behind him.
Childhood educator Noah Jones has a plan. Work as a nanny for six months, make some extra cash, and move to the UK to teach. He doesn’t expect his new boss to be a Hollywood star. And he certainly isn’t prepared to fall for the guy. One kiss sends them tumbling into a secret relationship, even though they both agree it can be nothing more than a fling. Carter needs to stay in the closet for the sake of his career, and Noah’s leaving. But when their feelings continue to grow into something deeper, Carter has a decision to make. Knowing that exposing his sexuality could cost him his career, would he rather carry on living a lie, or risk it all to stand tall in his truth? Not Until Noah is the first book in the Star Crossed series, where regular guys meet famous ones, and sparks fly. |
"Not Until Noah is a wonderfully sweet romance. I love this book. Everything about it had me swooning and charmed throughout."
- Amy's MM Romance Reviews
"Ms. Henry breaks our hearts, bit by bit, as Noah and Carter enter a relationship they know can’t last. I kept wondering where the last straw lay and who would crack first. The story may be pure romance, but it ratchets up thriller-level tension."
- Kimmers Erotic Book Banter
- Amy's MM Romance Reviews
"Ms. Henry breaks our hearts, bit by bit, as Noah and Carter enter a relationship they know can’t last. I kept wondering where the last straw lay and who would crack first. The story may be pure romance, but it ratchets up thriller-level tension."
- Kimmers Erotic Book Banter
An excerpt from Not Until Noah:
A flash of movement caught his attention, and he looked up to discover a small face peering at him from behind the archway separating the living room from the dining room. It was a little girl with dark hair. She was watching him warily, so Noah flashed her a smile. She wrinkled her nose and smiled back nervously, and he felt a little more at ease at once. Maybe not an entitled little brat then.
Olivia turned and saw the girl. “Emerson, come and meet Noah.”
The little girl darted forward and sat next to him on the couch. “Hello. I’m Emerson.”
Her accent was American, like Olivia’s.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Noah. It’s very nice to meet you, Emerson.”
She took his extended hand and shook it firmly. “Are you going to be my nanny?”
“That depends,” he said. “Pineapple on pizza, yes or no?”
Emerson’s eyes widened. “Um, yes?”
“That’s the right answer,” he said. “High five.”
Emerson laughed and slapped his palm.
He glanced at Olivia and saw that she was smiling as well.
“Do you like other pizzas too?” Emerson asked him earnestly.
“Yeah, I like all sorts of pizzas,” he said. “What’s your favorite food?”
“Ice cream.”
“That’s another great answer. We already have so much in common!”
Emerson’s smile lit up her whole face. She leaned closer to Noah and lowered her voice as though she was imparting a huge secret. “Those are sometimes foods, though.”
“They are,” Noah agreed. “What’s your favorite vegetable?”
“I like carrots.”
“Me too!”
Emerson beamed at him.
“Noah,” Olivia said, catching his attention again. “This is Emerson’s father, Carter.”
Holy shit.
The guy sitting down beside Olivia was Carter Westlake. Carter fucking Westlake! Carter Westlake the fucking movie star! Noah’s brain shorted out as it struggled to reconcile the fact that a man he’d last paid fifteen dollars—plus more for a popcorn and a Coke—to go and see on a massive screen was an actual human being who was currently sitting right in front of him. Sitting there like a real person, and not just someone who existed in movies, or on the front covers of magazine at the supermarket checkout.
The NDA suddenly made a lot of sense.
And Jesus, but Carter Westlake was just as incredibly gorgeous in real life as he was on screen or smiling for the cameras on some red carpet. His dark hair was tousled, and the dark stubble on his jaw just highlighted the perfect angles of his face. He had hazel eyes framed by dark lashes, a straight nose, and a sharp jawline that Noah wanted to cut his tongue on. He was hot. Stupidly hot. Like Noah had always assumed that celebrities were airbrushed for public consumption, but no, apparently some people were just that attractive. Carter Westlake had won the genetic lottery, no question.
And by the time all of those thoughts had filtered through his brain at the speed of molasses, gumming up the works, he realized he’d been staring for way too long.
“God, sorry,” he said and stuck his hand out. “I’m Noah. Noah Jones. Nice to meet you, Mr. Westlake.”
“Carter,” Carter said with a nod and shook his hand.
He was touching a movie star. This was amazing! Dylan was going to lose his shit! Wait. He’d just agreed to sign a piece of paper saying he couldn’t tell Dyl. Also, had he been shaking Carter’s hand for too long now? He pulled back quickly and then stared down at the NDA just for something else to look at. Something that wasn’t Carter Westlake.
A fucking Hollywood movie star.
Olivia slid a pen across the coffee table, eyebrows raised.
“Right,” he said, his voice cracking.
He picked up the pen and signed.
A flash of movement caught his attention, and he looked up to discover a small face peering at him from behind the archway separating the living room from the dining room. It was a little girl with dark hair. She was watching him warily, so Noah flashed her a smile. She wrinkled her nose and smiled back nervously, and he felt a little more at ease at once. Maybe not an entitled little brat then.
Olivia turned and saw the girl. “Emerson, come and meet Noah.”
The little girl darted forward and sat next to him on the couch. “Hello. I’m Emerson.”
Her accent was American, like Olivia’s.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Noah. It’s very nice to meet you, Emerson.”
She took his extended hand and shook it firmly. “Are you going to be my nanny?”
“That depends,” he said. “Pineapple on pizza, yes or no?”
Emerson’s eyes widened. “Um, yes?”
“That’s the right answer,” he said. “High five.”
Emerson laughed and slapped his palm.
He glanced at Olivia and saw that she was smiling as well.
“Do you like other pizzas too?” Emerson asked him earnestly.
“Yeah, I like all sorts of pizzas,” he said. “What’s your favorite food?”
“Ice cream.”
“That’s another great answer. We already have so much in common!”
Emerson’s smile lit up her whole face. She leaned closer to Noah and lowered her voice as though she was imparting a huge secret. “Those are sometimes foods, though.”
“They are,” Noah agreed. “What’s your favorite vegetable?”
“I like carrots.”
“Me too!”
Emerson beamed at him.
“Noah,” Olivia said, catching his attention again. “This is Emerson’s father, Carter.”
Holy shit.
The guy sitting down beside Olivia was Carter Westlake. Carter fucking Westlake! Carter Westlake the fucking movie star! Noah’s brain shorted out as it struggled to reconcile the fact that a man he’d last paid fifteen dollars—plus more for a popcorn and a Coke—to go and see on a massive screen was an actual human being who was currently sitting right in front of him. Sitting there like a real person, and not just someone who existed in movies, or on the front covers of magazine at the supermarket checkout.
The NDA suddenly made a lot of sense.
And Jesus, but Carter Westlake was just as incredibly gorgeous in real life as he was on screen or smiling for the cameras on some red carpet. His dark hair was tousled, and the dark stubble on his jaw just highlighted the perfect angles of his face. He had hazel eyes framed by dark lashes, a straight nose, and a sharp jawline that Noah wanted to cut his tongue on. He was hot. Stupidly hot. Like Noah had always assumed that celebrities were airbrushed for public consumption, but no, apparently some people were just that attractive. Carter Westlake had won the genetic lottery, no question.
And by the time all of those thoughts had filtered through his brain at the speed of molasses, gumming up the works, he realized he’d been staring for way too long.
“God, sorry,” he said and stuck his hand out. “I’m Noah. Noah Jones. Nice to meet you, Mr. Westlake.”
“Carter,” Carter said with a nod and shook his hand.
He was touching a movie star. This was amazing! Dylan was going to lose his shit! Wait. He’d just agreed to sign a piece of paper saying he couldn’t tell Dyl. Also, had he been shaking Carter’s hand for too long now? He pulled back quickly and then stared down at the NDA just for something else to look at. Something that wasn’t Carter Westlake.
A fucking Hollywood movie star.
Olivia slid a pen across the coffee table, eyebrows raised.
“Right,” he said, his voice cracking.
He picked up the pen and signed.