26. Cal #2
Noelle worried her lower lip between her teeth. “And you expect me to show up at their house with a plate of sugar and all will be well in the world?”
“That’s the CliffsNotes version. I expect Grey will glare a bunch like the grouch he is, but after he eats a few bars, the sugar will hit his system and you’ll be in the clear.”
“You have a lot of faith in sugar.”
“Nah.” I leaned closer. “I believe in you, Elle. It’ll work out.”
Her eyes softened. “I don’t want to force it.”
I cupped her cheek. “Hey, if you’re not ready yet, that’s okay, it was just an idea.
I know my brother. He’s stubborn as a mule with a toothache, but he’s got a good heart.
And an apology goes a long way with Grey.
I’m not saying sweets will fix it, but it can build a bridge.
That’s how trust starts. One step at a time. ”
“Build bridges, not walls,” she murmured, leaning into my touch.
“Exactly. We’ve got enough crocodile-infested moats in this family.”
She snorted. “Who?”
“Juliet. But don’t tell her that. She gets easily offended anytime I liken her personality to an animal, especially the cute ones.”
“All right. I’m in. Let’s strategize.”
Today was the day for visitors. First Greyson and then my closest teammates decided to descend on me like the dwarves popping into Bilbo Baggins’s house for tea without warning. I’d never felt such kinship to the uptight little fella.
“Hey, hey, hey! The Van is in the house!” Van hollered, stepping through the front door. Sans knocking, of course.
“Dude, knock!” Jamie smacked the back of Van’s head. Our youngest teammate had spent eight months living with Myles and Juliet after they’d gotten married and thus had acquired a great appreciation for personal space.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, shooting a look at Noelle in my kitchen with Khia beside her. If they see her—
Van stopped in his tracks, staring. “Is that—?”
Jamie bumped into him from behind. “What’s—oh!”
Too late.
Noelle glanced up from the pot of soup she was stirring and smiled. “You have company.”
I sighed. “Not by choice.”
Van smacked a hand to his heart. “You wound me. We wanted to cheer you up, but clearly you didn’t need us.”
“Sorry, I’m late. Jerry cornered me outside the café—” Max blinked at the scene in front of him, then smiled. “Well, hello there.”
I gritted my teeth together. My friends were two seconds away from embarrassing me, and I’d never hear the end of it.
“Mr. Max!” Khia leapt off the counter and ran towards him.
Max swung her up, tossing her over his head before she perched on his arm. “Hey, missy, have you grown again?”
“One whole inch!”
Max shook his head dramatically. “You’re gonna be as tall as your dad.”
Khia grinned. “Taller.”
“You might change your mind about that later,” Noelle said wryly. She’d always struggled with feeling awkward about her height. My being taller than her was one of the things she loved best about me.
Jamie nudged me, a little starry-eyed. “Dude, you said she was pretty. You said nothing about gorgeous. You need a dictionary!”
I did not, in fact, need a dictionary. I already had a thesaurus of Noelle curated in my mind. Smart. Thoughtful. Witty. Stunning. Kind. Competent. But they didn’t need to know how much real estate she took up in my head.
“And you let her get away?” Max asked with a huff.
Was nothing sacred amongst friends? Clearly not mine.
Pink crept up Noelle’s cheeks. “You told them about me?”
Yeah. Because teen girls everywhere had nothing on a group of hockey players when it came to getting the scoop on a good gossip sesh.
“He’s a verbal processor,” Jamie offered with a shrug.
I rubbed the back of my neck. I needed new friends, ASAP.
“Oh, I know.” Noelle bit back a smile. More than once she’d ended up on the receiving end of my thought processing. But she always had good insight. She got me.
Time to get things back on track. “Noelle, this is Max Mackenzie, Van Hawkes, and Jamie Dawes.” I pointed to them each in turn. “Also known as Magic, Prince Charming, and Jam-Jam.”
They all nodded their heads politely. But I wasn’t fooled by the charade as they nudged each other with matching grins. Children.
“Nice to meet you all.” Noelle’s manners were impeccable, as always.
“Miss Noelle’s my nanny,” Khia informed the guys. “She’s better than Mary Poppins.”
“Better?” Van gasped. “Can she fly?”
Khia giggled. “She can dance.”
And didn’t I know it. Flashes of us dancing at prom, my oldest brothers’ weddings, and date nights when we line danced at Donovan’s Downto’n whipped through my mind.
Noelle had always been light on her feet, and she loved being twirled.
Her dark eyes always sparkled, and a man could get lost in those eyes. I certainly had . . . and still did.
“What can we help with, Miss Noelle?” Jamie scurried into the kitchen, ready to do her bidding.
Pathetic. He was beaming at her like an adoring puppy.
And yet, I was the same way.
“Oh . . . you can set the table, if you like.”
“What about me?” Max stepped forward with a box of pastries.
Noelle handed him a tin bowl I didn’t even know I owned. “Put the croissants in here.”
“And can I lift that heavy pot for you?” Van offered with a hint of a boast, flexing his bicep.
Noelle’s lips twitched. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
“Ooh, burn!” Jamie laughed and darted away before Van could smack him.
Once the guys were occupied, she limped towards me. Had she overdone it? “If you’ve got this, I’m going to head out.”
Wait, what? “You don’t want to join us?”
Her eyes met mine, and I read the tiredness in them. “I think I need to call it a day.”
“Can I do anything? Do you need anything from town?”
“I’m good.”
“Noelle—”
“Really.” She reached out and squeezed my arm. “Have fun. It’s nice to see you smile.” And with that, she hugged Khia, called goodbye to the guys, and left.
I had a feeling part of her reluctance to stick around was that Greyson had yet to make his reappearance with the groceries, and one could only handle so much stormy-weather exposure at a time.
I watched from the front porch to make sure she made it to the cottage okay.
Once she was inside, I returned to the dining room and three pairs of eyes met mine with expectation.
Khia was busy scooping Mrs. Pickles’s kibble into her dish.
“What?” I demanded, crossing my arms.
“You really held out on us,” Max commented. “That woman’s wife material.”
My heart pinched under my ribs. Was she ever. “You don’t even know her.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “Dude, have you seen your face when she’s around? You are twitterpated.” He snuck a spoonful of the chicken corn chowder she’d made. “And she can cook. If you don’t marry her, I might.”
I glared at him, but the twenty-year-old rookie had the audacity to laugh.
“Cal,” Van said seriously, which was out of character for him. The man ran on one setting—flirty and carefree. “You’d be a fool to not take a chance on her.”
“Says the man with commitment issues,” I huffed, and he stiffened.
There was only one woman who’d nearly gotten him to settle down a couple years ago, but something happened.
And Van remained decidedly close-mouthed about it.
I blew out a breath. “It’s not me who’s reluctant about rekindling things. ”
“Ah”—Max sat back in his seat—“she’s not ready.”
“We have a history. And I’m not sure she’s forgiven herself for what happened.”
“Was it her fault?” Max asked.
I shrugged. “We both could have done things differently.”
“So what’s the problem?” Van spread his hands wide. “Woo the woman. Flowers, chocolate, date night, and kiss her. Definitely kiss her. But only if you’re playing for keeps.”
Jamie eyed him. “You’re smart sometimes.”
Van grinned smugly. “I know. Women like a smart man.”
“And now I’m back to wanting to punch your face,” Jamie grumbled.
“That’s just a default setting. Everyone wants to hit him,” Max said around a bite of croissant. “But back to the matter at hand. Show her you’re serious about her.”
I sighed. These guys were young, none of them older than twenty-five. Did that make me the geezer of the group? Absolutely. Alongside Myles.
But maybe they had a point.