Chapter 3
Three
T his year, since her brother and sister weren’t visiting, Norah figured she’d bake less, even though she enjoyed making holiday treats for her clients, she didn’t need to be noshing cookies and brownies solo.
Ha! Apparently, the wily universe had other plans.
Now, she found herself whipping up homemade dog biscuits. She lined up the ingredients on the countertop—peanut butter, pumpkin, whole wheat flour, eggs, water, and honey?and double-checked the recipe on her tablet. Yep, she had everything she needed for a batch.
Paddy lay on his bed in the corner of the kitchen next to the laundry room door. His golden-brown eyes focused on her, alert and expectant. Every time she glanced over, he gave a sweeping wag of his tail that said, I like you .
“I like you too, buddy. Keep that up, and I won’t need a broom.” She turned on the oven and set the temperature.
That earned her another tail wag and a soft yip.
“Good boy.”
This time, he gave a whole bark, and Norah smiled at the echo bouncing around the room. Her kitchen was spacious, the walls painted the color of cheery sunshine. The floors were a distressed hardwood she hoped would hold up under Paddy’s nails even though Chris, the vet tech, trimmed them for her.
“You like that, do you? Being called a good boy?”
Another bark. Another wag of Paddy’s tail.
Norah laughed and asked the virtual assistant technology device on the counter to play some Christmas music and soon, the sound of “Jingle Bells” filled the room.
She hummed and shook her booty in time to the tune as she mixed up the ingredients for the dog treats.
“You know, Paddy.” Norah watched him from her peripheral vision as she stirred the mixture. “I never thought I’d be spending my evening making dog biscuits. Life has a funny way of surprising you, doesn’t it?”
Paddy tilted his head.
“Oh, don’t give me that look. I’m not complaining. It’s actually kind of fun. Plus, I get to hang out with you. That’s not a bad deal, right? I wonder what Matt would say if he could see me now.”
Eek! Why had she thought of Matt?
“Not that it matters,” she added as if Paddy might judge her for the stray thought.
A knock sounded at the door.
Hmm . Norah glanced at the stove clock—six p.m.—and grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe her hands. Who could that be? She wasn’t expecting any visitors or deliveries.
She went to answer the door. Paddy followed.
For a moment, she thought about sending him back to the kitchen but let him come along. Why not? Besides, he was tall enough to get the raw treats off the counter if he stood on his hind legs, and she didn’t know if he’d had obedience training.
“Sit.” She pointed to the floor.
He immediately plopped down on his butt.
She held up a stop-sign palm. “Stay.”
He dropped down to all fours, eyes rapt on her, ears perked at attention. Okay, trained. Nice to know.
“Good boy.”
Another tail sweep.
Another knock sounded at the door.
She peeked through the peephole.
Matt!
Her hopes hopped like a kid on a pogo stick. Calm down. Matt’s just here to check on the dog. Feeling a helpless grin cross her face—oh gosh, she was in trouble—Norah pushed down on the levered door handle.
It didn’t open.
Ack! The lock hung half-engaged. The flimsy thing often malfunctioned, slipping in and out of place willy-nilly. Grr. She kept telling herself she’d replace it but kept putting it off because Christmas Beach was as safe as safe could be. Honestly, she’d hoped to convince Nate to change out the lock for her.
Not this year.
She fumbled with the lock, got the door open, and tried her best to look cool, calm, and collected. “Hey there.”
“Hi.” Matt grinned back, his hair damp with evening mist blowing in off the sea. “Sorry not to call first, but I was already on my way home when I decided to see how you two were doing, and I don’t have your number in my phone.”
Didn’t he? The realization surprised her. She’d have thought he got it from Vanessa. “I have a landline for work. It’s listed.”
“I’ll remember that.” His eyes crinkled at the corners, deepening his smile.
“But I usually screen my calls.” She waved him over the threshold.
He paused, stamping his feet on the welcome mat before following her. “Um…” he said, looking back at her door.
“Yes?”
“You have levered door handles.”
“Yeah?” Norah arched an eyebrow.
“Some dogs are smart enough to open levered doors,” he said.
“Really?”
“It’s happened to several of my clients. Just an FYI in case Paddy is an escape artist, but I’m sure it’s fine if you keep the deadbolt…” He trailed off. “Norah, you don’t have a deadbolt on your door either?”
“Guilty as charged,” she said. “But I’ve been meaning to get one.”
Matt looked as if he wanted to tell her to make it a priority—yes, yes, her dad would have scolded her for it—but he held his tongue. The man had a point, but indeed, Paddy wasn’t clever enough to figure that out, right?No point changing out her entire door handle for a temporary dog, but she would get the deadbolt.
He took off his coat, hanging it on the hook next to her jacket, and then shoved a hand through his hair, dislodging water droplets.
“Looks like you brought the weather in with you.” Norah gave a rueful laugh.
Matt looked sheepish. “Sorry about that. I should have brought an umbrella. The forecast said clear skies, but you know how reliable that is around here.”
“About as reliable as a chocolate teapot.”
He laughed. “Now that’s an image. I’ll have to remember that one. Mind if I use it at the clinic? I’m always looking for new ways to describe our unpredictable weather to out-of-towners.”
“Be my guest,” Norah said, feeling a warmth spread through her at their easy banter. “Though I can’t take credit for it. I’m fairly sure I heard it from Mrs. Finch down at the library.”
“Ah, good old Mrs. Finch.” Matt nodded. “Still terrorizing the Dewey Decimal System with her color-coded rating system?”
She met his humor-glazed gaze. “Oh, you have no idea. Last I heard, she was lobbying to add ‘spiciness rating’ to romance novels.”
“Now that’s something I’d like to see.” Matt grinned, then seemed to catch himself. “I mean, not that I read… you know what? Never mind.”
Norah raised an eyebrow, enjoying his fumble. “Oh no, please, do go on. I’m intrigued by this hidden romance novel enthusiast side of you, Dr. Gray.”
“What can I say? A good bodice-ripper helps me unwind after a long day of neutering cats.”
They both burst into laughter at the absurdity of the statement.
Spying the dog, he crouched next to him. “Hey, Paddy. How goes it?”
Paddy wagged his tail but didn’t bark or move, still obeying Norah’s command to stay.
Norah patted her thigh. “Come.”
Paddy hopped up and came to her side.
“Good boy.” She praised the dog, then turned to Matt. “Give me your phone.”
He took his phone from his back hip pocket and passed it over. Norah added her mobile number to his contacts and handed it back. The tips of their fingers brushed, and a lightning bolt of awareness shot through her hand.
“Now you can reach me.” She met his eyes. “I mean if you need to speak to me about Paddy.”
“Yeah,” he said, holding her gaze. “Paddy.”
For a moment, neither of them said a word, just stared into each other.
Matt was the first to drop his gaze, shifting it to the dog. “He seems to be doing just fine.”
“Yep.” She walked into the kitchen, dog and man following. “This year, I’m making Christmas dog treats instead of Nate’s favorite peanut butter cookies.”
“I remember those cookies. They’re my favorite, too, especially because you use chunky peanut butter. Mmm-mmm-mmm.” His eyes lit up, and for a moment, Norah saw the boy he used to be.
“I’ll send some to the clinic.”
“Really? That’s really nice of you.”
“Nice of you not to charge me for Paddy’s vet visit.”
He shrugged. “What are friends for?”
So they were still friends? She shook her head and gestured for him to sit.
He pulled out a barstool, and it made a soft scraping sound against the floor.
“You want something to drink? I can make coffee. Tea?”
“Nah, I’m good.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his counter. “Thanks, but I don’t want to put you out. I just wanted to check on Paddy here. I need to get home and figure out something for supper.”
As if recognizing his new name, Paddy plopped down beside him. “Jingle Bells” had shifted to “I’ll be Home for Christmas,” and Matt hummed along.
“I can throw together a Cobb salad.”
“That actually sounds great.” Matt bent to pet Paddy. “Want me to chop veggies?”
She glanced over. The dog biscuits could wait because she was suddenly starving. The prospect of sharing a meal with Matt, something they hadn’t done in twenty years, sent a flutter through her stomach.
“Sure. Knives are there in the block.” She motioned toward the counter and then to the cabinet below. “And the cutting board is in there.”
“On it.” He moved to wash up at the sink.
Norah opened the fridge and pulled out tomatoes, cheese, eggs she had hardboiled yesterday, lettuce, and anything else that sounded good. The air from the refrigerator washed over her, a welcome relief cooling her heated cheeks.
At the sink, Matt started washing the veggies and got to work. The sound of the knife against the cutting board created a rhythmic backdrop to their conversation. “I like your place. It’s just the right size. Not too big, not too small. What’s the square footage?”
“Seventeen hundred feet, counting the sunporch.”
“Well, you gotta count the sunporch.” He raised his head and winked. “I bet you spend a lot of time there reading. You always were a bookworm.”
“I do.” She nodded, feeling oddly vulnerable. He knew a lot about her.
“Thanks. Um… I’m not even sure that I know where you live. Is it somewhere near the clinic?”
“What? You didn’t hear my house-buying tales of woe through the grapevine?” He added a laugh, pausing with the knife as he peered at her over his shoulder.
“I did hear something, yes. You had some things fall through, and then the vine withered and died.”
“You could’ve come to see me at the clinic and found out.” There was a hint of something in his voice—regret? Invitation? Norah’s heart skipped.
“No reason to come to the clinic since I don’t have a pet.” She handed him the grater and the block of sharp cheddar.
He took them and reached for the boiled eggs as well. “You don’t need a pet to come see me, Norah.”
Something inside her melted, gooey and soft. Aww, that was sweet, but she wasn’t about to let down her guard. “I saw you today.”
“Sure, but that’s not what I mean.”
“You didn’t come see me.”
“But I have an accountant,” he said in a singsong voice, imitating the way she’d said she didn’t have a pet.
Norah burst out laughing, the sound easing some of the tension.
“You didn’t need an accountant to come see me.” She studied his grinning profile. She really did like the scruff on his face. It suited him and added a rugged charm to his features.
“Guess that makes us even.”
“How so?” She arched an eyebrow.
“Neither one of us knew how to make the first move.” His knife slowed, his movements precise and studied.
He was right. They would have to get that out of the way before they could think about resuming, even rekindling the relationship they’d… Put on hold? Left hanging? Never admitted was a relationship at all?
But now didn’t seem like the right time. Things were friendly and easy, and delving deeper would take time. They’d broached the subject, set it out there, and now neither of them could forget it.
Just… later.
His phone dinged. He washed the food from his hands before he reached for it and frowned at the screen. “Dinner will have to wait. I’ve got an emergency.” He looked down at the food he’d been in the middle of prepping. “I’m sorry, Norah.”
“Go. Do your thing.” She loved seeing Matt in action. Mature, serious, responsible. Not that he hadn’t been those things in the past. But things were different now. “I have no problem eating tomatoes, eggs, and cheese for dinner. Mix it up, season it, and toast some sourdough. Perfect comfort food sandwich.”
“Thanks,” he said. “My stomach will be growling all night.”
He pocketed his phone and turned for the door, leaving his lovely masculine scent behind to let her know what she was missing.
“Hold on a second,” Norah called out, surprising herself. Matt paused, hand on the doorknob, and turned back to her. “You can’t go saving animal lives on an empty stomach. Let me pack you something quick.”
Matt’s expression softened. “You don’t have to do that, Norah.”
“I know I don’t have to.” She grabbed a Tupperware container. “But I want to. Besides, what kind of host would I be if I let you leave hungry after you came all this way?”
“All this way?” Matt chuckled. “It’s barely a ten-minute drive.”
“In this town, that’s practically a road trip.” Norah quickly assembled a sandwich from the ingredients they’d prepped and wrapped it up. “Besides, you never know when you might need extra sustenance for a late-night animal emergency. What if you have to wrestle an escaped circus lion or something?”
Matt laughed. “The most exotic animal I’ve treated lately was Mrs. Henderson’s parrot. And trust me, that bird has a vocabulary that would make a sailor blush.”
“Oh, I’ve heard about that parrot.” Norah grinned and put his sandwich in a paper bag. “Didn’t it once call the mayor a… well, let’s just say it wasn’t very complimentary?”
“That’s the one.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “I’m pretty sure it picked up most of its colorful language from Mr. Henderson’s football nights.”
Norah tossed a banana in the bag and handed it to him. “Well, here’s hoping this keeps you going through whatever emergency awaits.”
Matt’s eyes softened. “Thanks for this, Norah, really.”
“Anytime.” She was suddenly aware of how close they were standing. “Now go before your patient decides to stage a jailbreak or something.”
“Will do.” Matt grinned, holding up his phone. “I’ve got your number now.” He turned to leave.
“Matt?”
He paused in the doorway, looking back at her questioningly.
“Be careful out there. I hear we’ve got some chocolate teapot weather rolling in,” Norah said.
His hearty laughter echoed as he let himself out, and Norah found herself smiling long after the door had closed behind him.