21. Cal
Chapter twenty-one
Cal
I’d been on pins and needles all day yesterday. Not because I didn’t trust Noelle, but because it was evident how much Khia already loved her. And if Noelle left again . . . It wasn’t just me I had to think about.
The rest of my team was ignorant to my struggles and instead found my nerves amusing.
“Anxious to get back to your girl?” Van teased after morning practice.
“I heard they went on a date,” Jamie piped up.
I rolled my eyes. “No dates. Not my girl.”
“But she is watching Khia?” Myles, of all people, asked.
I glared at him. “Your point?”
He shook his head and headed for the showers. “Just find it interesting.”
Interesting could mean anything from stupid to when’s-the-wedding. My friends were officially the worst.
Given that I took the drive home a little faster than I was supposed to, I made it home in record time.
The lights in the farmhouse weren’t on, so I jogged across the lawn to the cottage.
Not your girl. Platonic. She smells like coconuts.
Clearly the second-chance romance by Kelsi Jacobs, our book club’s choice of the month, was going to my head.
But seeing Noelle open the door, watching how well she worked with Khia and how my daughter clearly adored her . . . It solved so many of my problems.
Asking Noelle to be the nanny might be the greatest or dumbest idea I’d ever had. The jury was still out.
True to her word, Noelle arrived promptly the next morning with a sharp rap.
“Come on in,” I hollered, trying to scrape the eggs I’d left on too long out of a frying pan.
“Daddy, orange juice!” Khia called from the table.
“Just a minute, sweetie.” I ran a hand through my hair. With all the mental gymnastics last night—the war between logic and heart was in full swing—I’d overslept my alarm, and it was the first morning since babyhood that Khia decided to sleep in, too.
Noelle slipped into the kitchen looking fresh as a daisy, minus the tired lines around her eyes. She was here. In my house.
My shoulders relaxed at the mere sight of her. The spatula slipped from my hand, and I smiled. “Hey.”
She returned the smile tentatively, fiddling with her butterfly necklace. They’d always been her favourite. “Hey yourself.” Her pink lips twitched as she took me in. “You’re kinda ruffled this morning.”
I glanced down. Why would she . . . oh. I was still in pajamas. Just like I’d caught her yesterday.
“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” she teased.
“Only cute?”
Her cheeks flushed a delicate rose. “Need a hand with that?”
“I . . . yeah.” What was I doing flirting with her?
It was so easy to fall back into the Cal-and-Noelle-best-friends-forever relationship.
We had a history years couldn’t erase. But I hated her seeing me at a disadvantage.
Our morning routine usually went smoothly, but it would be today that things fell apart.
Sue me for wanting her to see me as super put-together and in control, something I hadn’t been back in the day.
Grey, you were a responsibility hog in the womb. Give me some, will you?
My twin obviously couldn’t hear me, but he’d get the message next time I saw him.
Noelle flitted around the kitchen with ease, handing me my coffee mug and hip-checking me away from the sink. In less than a minute, she had a fresh pan of eggs started and toast in the toaster.
I poured Khia’s orange juice, but she skipped into the kitchen before I could bring it to her. She shrieked when she noticed Noelle.
“Are you my new mommy? Do I get a puppy now?”
The plastic cup slipped from my hands, sloshing juice all over the floor. Another disaster—just add it to my tab. “No, Lovebug, this is your new nanny.” Crouching, I mopped up the liquid with a paper towel.
Khia stared at Noelle. “Like Mary Poppins?”
Noelle slid the eggs onto two plates and grinned over her shoulder. “I’m not as cool as Mary Poppins.”
Khia giggled. “She’s the best!”
While I swabbed the mop around the hardwood to keep it from drying sticky, Khia climbed up to sit on the counter to chat with Noelle. Any doubts I had about them getting along evaporated.
Noelle’s patient nature listened to Khia’s prattle, and Khia came alive under another woman’s attention. Not just any woman’s. Noelle’s.
I absently rubbed my sternum. It was a snapshot of a future we could’ve had. A future I still longed for. “I should—”
Noelle thrust a plate at me. “Eat. You need to keep up your strength.”
“Always taking care of others,” I murmured, accepting the plate. Who takes care of you? “Thanks.” I shoveled the eggs, sourdough toast, and cold steak down in a few bites.
“Chew, Daddy!” Khia said.
No time for that, kiddo. I grabbed my protein shake. “I owe you big time, Elle.”
Noelle brushed off my thanks. “We’ll be fine. Have a good day. Oh, here.” She handed me a thermos of fresh coffee.
“Did you put salt in it?” I asked suspiciously.
She blinked at me. “Why would I do that?”
“Sorry. Ruby did once when I was being, according to her, particularly annoying. Now I have beverage trust issues.”
“I can see that. The part about Ruby, not you being annoying.”
“Eh, I told a scarecrow joke. It didn’t stand up by itself.”
Noelle shook her head at my joke, a smile tugging her lips. “I always liked your sense of humour.”
“Yeah?” Take that, Grey. My humour isn’t dumb.
We stared at each other for a minute. Then before I could blurt out something embarrassing, I cleared my throat to break the tension. “I should go.”
After grabbing my duffel bag, I headed for the front door. Khia was usually clingy, but she was enamoured with Noelle in the kitchen, perched on a chair helping dry the dishes.
“Bye, Lovebug.”
She hopped down and ran to me. “Eskimo kisses!”
I swung her up in a hug, and we nudged noses. Just like always. When I set her down, Noelle was watching us, kitchen towel in hand clutched to her chest.
I know the feeling, sweetheart. The old endearment slipped through my mind with ease. It would be so easy to love her again.
If I let myself take the risk.