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“Why are you here so early?” I ask. “The wedding isn’t for two weeks.” The words come out a little harsh, but seriously, why is he here so early? The wedding isn’t for two weeks. Two weeks and a day if you want to be precise.

When my brother, Finn, told me he’d asked Noble to be in the wedding, I forced myself not to panic. I’ve done a great job of avoiding him all these years, and I figured he’d show up on the day, or the day before. We’d both be too busy to talk to each other, and then he’d leave again.

Simple.

Two weeks early is not simple. Staying in my lodge? Very complicated.

A few months after Noble left town and went radio silent, Dad tracked him down.

He was determined to make sure Noble knew he—and our family—weren’t giving up on him. And that was great for them, but no amount of logic and explanations was going to change my teenage mind.

Noble started competing about a year later, and everyone in my family was happy to go support him . . . but not me. I was nothing if not stubborn. Still am, to a degree. After he left, I made up my mind to forget all about him.

It was a stupid crush, and I was moving on. I have moved on. I’m an adult, for Pete’s sake.

I can have a darn Dr Pepper if I want to.

It would be crazy to hold onto all of that baggage for so many years.

Did I have a mental countdown until the wedding, not only because I was handling so much of the planning but also because I knew my days of avoiding Noble were coming to an end?

Yeah. Maybe. So what about it?

Now, with my question hanging in the air, the corner of his mouth ticks up. “You’re happy to see me then.”

Something rises up. “Happy?”

I can tell it hit him some way because his face changes. I didn’t mean to snap—not exactly—but emotions have a way of overriding common courtesy.

I backtrack and try to tamp down a bit. “I’m just surprised is all.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not the only one.” His gaze drifts toward the front of the store where a few other people are standing, watching him, not even trying to be discreet with their disapproval.

There’s an awkward moment, both of us nodding at the air.

“It was probably a mistake, huh?” he says, a little miserably. “Coming early?”

“Probably,” I say, my tone cold.

His jaw twitches. I hate this. I’m not a mean person, but I feel mean. Don’t I have the right to be at least a little mean?

If I’m not, I’m likely to fall right back into my old, familiar banter with Noble, and that cannot happen.

I suck in a breath. “But you’re here, so I guess that’s that.” I move around him and open the ice cream cooler. “If you’re staying at my lodge, you’re working.”

He gives me a quick nod. “Yes, ma’am. I’m at your service.”

So much to unpack in the way that sentence hits me. I try to swallow but my throat is full of cotton balls. I muster out a quiet, “cool,” then go as silent as shadows.

I’m standing there, door to the cooler open because it’s the only thing keeping my skin from bursting into flames. Noble Kane is back, in my town, apparently staying at my lodge, calling me “ma’am,” and looking at me with a lazy smirk on that beautiful face.

“Hattie Holbrook,” he finally says, nodding. “It’s really good to see you.”

Chapter Two

Hattie

The first time I saw Noble Kane, it was not love at first sight.