Page 82 of Falling Back to You

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.”