Noah

by Cristin Harber

“If she’s talking to you, you’re relevant.”

  Maybe that was what he should have gathered from their heart-to-heart about people she didn’t know and their consolations.

  The timer buzzed, and Teagan grabbed mitts and opened the oven. A burst of heat and savory-scented goodness rolled through the kitchen.

  “That smells great.”

  She slid the bottom rack out and removed two small pizzas.

  “Can I help?”

  She gave him a funny look then turned back to the top rack. “I’ve got it.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve got it.” Teagan slid the pizzas onto the counter, and ding, ding, he remembered that Eagle’s Ridge gossip said he might never live down his kitchen incident.

  “I didn’t burn down that house.” He scoffed. “Not a single wall is singed. Maybe let Hildie know.”

  Teagan tossed her oven mitts on the counter. “It’s your house now.”

  “What’d I say?”

  “That house.”

  Noah shrugged. It was Lainey’s house.

  Teagan walked to the counter bar and leaned on the end. “You’ll find a way to change it from that house to your home.”

  Would he?

  “If you don’t believe me…” She mimicked his shrug in a playful manner that made her bare shoulder dip out of the oversized knit sweater. “Get through today and then talk to me again.”

  Teagan turned back to the pizza and pulled out a slicer from a drawer, leaving him to his thoughts. His aunt and mom had decided along with Lainey that it would be best for Bella to stay in the house she grew up in, and he wholeheartedly agreed with their decision. But now it felt funny to live there.

  “House, home.” He pushed off the barstool and went over to help. “I see what you did there.”

  “I figured out you weren’t a fool.” Teagan pointed at a cabinet. “Plates are in there.”

  “On some things.” Noah grabbed four and followed her gaze to another cabinet and found glasses. “Roger that.”

  A minute later with his hands full, he found peace in setting the table. Some things never changed, whether he laid out forks and knives at home in Eagle’s Ridge or doled out plates and glasses with teammates in a foreign land during downtime on a classified mission.

  When he was finished, Teagan had a salad in a bowl on the table and pizzas as the centerpiece, ready to serve.

  “Not bad, partner.” She lifted her hand to give him a high five.

  “It’s been a rough afternoon, but I’m not fragile,” he cracked. “No coddling needed.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to assume I’m coddling.” She didn’t drop her raised hand, instead wiggling it for attention. “But if you protest too much, I’ll assume you’re in desperate need of pampering.”

  He chuckled. “Point made.” He slapped her much smaller hand, and as their fingers brushed, his palm tickled with an urge to clasp her hand.

  “Hungry?” She pulled her hand away quickly and shoved both fists into her jeans pockets, pivoting toward the steaming pizza.

  He didn’t like how quickly she split. “Hey.”

  “Hmm?” Teagan rocked on her heels, barely glancing his way.

  “Thanks. You could give me so much hell right now, and it’s cool you’re not.”

  Slowly, she stopped the heel rock. “I—”

  A thunder of footsteps blew into the room, followed by a chorus of “We’re hungry!”

  Teagan ushered them toward the sink. “Hands! Wash those hands.”

  Whatever she had been about to say was gone.

  Will and Bella shared a stool in front of the water faucet, making a mess more than killing germs, while Teagan filled glasses with milk—including some for him, which he got a kick out of—then they sat around the table as though they each had assigned seats.

  The kids took the middle of the rectangular dining table, and Teagan headed toward the far end, leaving a vacant end chair for him.

  At that moment, he realized he was the stranger in the room. He didn’t know his seat, and he was aware both kids had better table manners than half the men he knew.

  Guilt needled him in the ribs. Noah barely knew Bella beyond FaceTime, mailed cards, and the rare holiday visit. He loved her with every beat of his heart, but knowing who the kid was, that was different, and sitting at this table… No, they didn’t make him feel like a stranger. More like a friend. Both old and new.

  They waited for him to sit. Noah rubbed his chest, rolled his shoulders back, and pulled out the chair at the head of table. The second his butt touched down, Bella and Will chattered with food requests, their unsteady hands reaching for pizza.

  He smiled, not expecting this, though he had zero expectations. Literally, none.

  He hadn’t put one iota of thought into whether Bella might have table manners or whether Lainey had served meals with… What was a good word? Purpose.

  “Salad?” Teagan asked.

  “Thanks.” Noah took the large bowl Will shoved his way, passing it toward his niece.

  Both kids acted as if they were famished, but they didn’t shovel the dinner down their throats. Again, Noah knew adults who made more of a mess, and it reminded him of something he had learned on surviving hell week, that meals were solely for consuming calories. Protein and nutrition were secondary while on the job.

  He ate his salad in quiet, listening to Bella and Will recount the harrowing drama of the fire drill, and when he had a break, he motioned to the table. “This is really nice, Teagan.”

  “Nothing, really. We’re glad you’re both here.”

  “I’m always here,” Bella added.

  “Doesn’t change that I like having you at my table, sweet pea.”

  Noah swallowed another mouthful of lettuce and tomato and suddenly missed Lainey. This was her chair, her daughter, the conversation she was supposed to hear. She was his confidant, and he was her hero. Wasn’t that how they’d always been? Not twins but always wanting to be. Closer than just the sister that she wasn’t, even. Cousins could be that close, and that stabbing in his chest wouldn’t go away.

  “What’d you do today?” Bella asked him.

  He took a quick breath. “Stopped by Nuts and Bolts.”

  “Is it open yet?” Teagan asked.

  “Soon.”

  “I want to drive a tractor.” Will dropped his fork. “Can you show me?”

  Noah lifted a shoulder. “I don’t have a tractor. But if I did, I could show you.”

  “Told ya,” Bella said.

  “It’s an automotive shop,” Teagan explained to Will. “The one you liked to visit.”

  Will perked up. “With all the cool stuff?”

  Noah smiled. “You got it. I’ve kept all that too.”

  “Awesome.”

  Bella and Will kicked their legs under the table, giggling, and stopped upon one swift look from Teagan. Noah really needed to master that drop-chin-and-pinch-eye thing she did. He was ninety-nine percent sure that if he tried it, a kid would cry.

  “Which type of pizza looks good?” Teagan asked, this time in a normal volume.

  Noah eyed the choices and realized eating with kids was a lot like eating with the guys. If he didn’t hop to, he’d go hungry. “That one.”

  “Good choice.”

  As Teagan moved to dole the slice, Will’s hand shot forward. “I want to help.”

  “Sure thing, buddy.” Noah lifted his plate and caught the flying slice of pizza at the last second.

  Bella ate her pizza backward, and Will ate his topping-side down. They both had pizza sauce on their faces and ranch dressing on their chins. Noah laughed, settling back in his chair and taking a sip of milk.

  “What’s funny?” Bella asked.

  “Just taking it all in, ladybug.”

  Bella and Will were having a heated debate on whether honeysuckles had honey in them, and Noah caught Teagan studying him.

  “Are you okay?” she mouthed.


  Good question. He ran a quick hand into his growing hair and nodded. But the truth was that this dinner table was nothing that any parenting blog or new-to-guardianship checklist had prepared him for. He was content to see and hear the clatter and chatter as napkins dropped and milk sloshed.

  Noah was a planner. He understood the planks of success and why he was driven to always triumph. He liked to win. It took resources. Prep. Training.

  That was how he approached moving back to Eagle’s Ridge and taking over Bella’s care. Every resource he’d consulted had mentioned the immense risks that he’d come across, but none explained the reward other than the joys of parenting. What the hell was that?

  This was that. His chest tightened. Was he okay? “I’m doing all right.”

  “Good. Bella, seconds?” Teagan offered Bella more salad, only to receive a polite ranch-dressing-covered headshake, then she caught his eye again. “Don’t forget to eat. You’re just starting this marathon.”

  He appreciated the good-natured mothering as he promised to do as told. This was the life. Good food. Great company. Maybe he was doing better than all right tonight.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The pizzas had been demolished. Even the salad had been eaten to the bottom of the bowl, and since both of Teagan’s helper bees were on cleanup duty, the kids had piled utensils and cleaned off the table as best they could. Warm water ran over Teagan’s hands as she washed off the dishes that Noah had scraped, and the two adults worked side by side in silence and listened to Will and Bella question each other over who had counted closer to infinity.

  Will stopped volleying incoherent numbers and, at the foot of the table, called, “Can we go watch a movie?”

  The table was cleared, and Bella waited patiently next to Will. Teagan was fine with it, but she decided to ask Noah too and lifted her eyebrows his way. He snickered as though he thought she was nuts for asking, then Teagan gave the kids a thumbs-up. “Finish what you were watching the other day.”

  As soon as they were out of the room, she wondered if he needed a reminder that he was in charge. Will led the way to the living room—and stopped, turning back. “Noah? Where are your kids?”

  “Me?” Noah wiped his hands on a kitchen towel.

  “He has me now,” Bella added.

  “Good point, ladybug.”

  Ladybug. Cute. “Will, leave Mr. Coleman alone.”

  “Ya know.” He turned to her, pressing his lips together. “The mister part is weird for me. Maybe it’s an adjustment thing…”

  She shrugged. “Your call.”

  “Just Noah.”

  “Noah,” Will tried out. “Why don’t you have kids?”

  Teagan tittered. “And that part doesn’t make you uncomfortable?”

  He cracked a grin. “Nope.” Then he walked back to the dining table and spun a chair around to straddle it. “Because my old job kept me away from home a lot, and then I never found anyone I wanted to have kids with.”

  “How do you have your kids?” Will followed up.

  Noah’s mouth opened and closed, and he sent a silent SOS to Teagan.

  As much as she’d enjoy seeing Noah struggle with that one, she wanted to handle the birds and the bees on her own. Preferably with the right info, and who knew what he’d have to offer to the kindergarten crowd. “Time for the movie. Now or never, please.”

  Neither Will nor Bella seemed to notice Noah squirming as they left for the living room.

  Noah clucked his tongue. “I may never be able to thank you enough for saving me from myself at that moment.”

  She shooed that away. “Like I’d let you get within ten miles of that conversation.”

  “Hey.” He stood up from the chair, spinning it back to the table. “If I had to, I’d nail it.”

  His footsteps were slow. Mesmerizing. They seemed far louder than they actually were in the quiet kitchen, where there was no sound to compete other than the thump of her heartbeat. Noah had a way about him when he walked. It wasn’t a swagger. More of a stroll that oozed confidence and breathed dominance. Her gaze flitted away instead of focusing on his broad chest and thick arms. It wouldn’t be right to stare at the hardened edge of his jawline, not when his full lips made her wonder what his kiss might feel like. Teagan needlessly rearranged the salt and pepper shakers on her counter. Fidgeting was far better than imagining his take on the birds and bees.

  “Teagan?”

  The pepper clinked into the salt. Her cheeks pinked when she gripped their tops to steady her hands. She coolly lifted her gaze as though he wasn’t working through her mind in ways that caused a hot flash. “Hmm?”

  He stopped on the other side of the breakfast bar. Three feet of polished wood countertop, her favorite part of the kitchen, separated them.

  “Nothing to say?” He smoothed his large hands across the well-cared-for wood, following the grain. “Haven’t known you that long, but you always have something on the tip of that tongue.”

  A shiver slid down her spine, and he held her eyes. Teagan swallowed, unsure why she was unnerved. “Nailing things. That’s my concern.”

  Amused, he crossed his arms, doing nothing to bat away the images in her head of how this man could nail any woman he wanted. His long-sleeve Henley molded to the curves of his biceps, and the partially open buttons at the top of his collar stretched, taunting her with what lay beneath. “Why do you think I’m going to screw up?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  He squinted, unbelieving. “Yeah, you did. Almost word for word.”

  She couldn’t exactly tell him that she assumed bachelor Navy SEALs who looked like him didn’t have a good handle on the correct words and the point of sex, at least from the perspective of a five-year-old.

  He laughed. “I mean, I know why I think I screw up, but what about you?”

  Well, ugh… “I’m not sure.”

  He stepped around the breakfast bar, and her pulse quickened. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t been alone, and of course, she’d had any number of sex-related conversations with parents. Even attractive dads, but at the time it never occurred to her that they were good-looking. Sometimes it was just a fact. A person was attractive, and she went about her business.

  This was… chemistry. They had it. Noah walked closer, and his skin prickled with nerves and excitement. Their tension stacked, compounding with the hours they had known each other and with every inch they drew closer.

  Teagan’s insides fluttered. The dizzy race of blood at the base of her neck made her breath stutter, then he stopped. Too close to be near her and too damn far away.

  Noah leaned his elbow on the counter. “I don’t buy that for a second, Ms. Shaw.”

  Okay. Okay. That was flirting. Noah was flirting with her? But nothing about the gravity of the situation drawing them together seemed strained by her ridiculous bachelor-SEAL-on-the prowl assumptions.

  Heat curled up her neck, and she didn’t know what to say or think anymore.

  “You don’t trust me.” He angled closer, but it was the devastating smile that closed the distance, almost curling around her.

  Teagan licked her lips, concentrating on the even keel of her tone. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  She snorted at the smug confidence. That much she could do without worry. Teasing him was easy. “Did the SEALs give you the power to read minds?”

  He inched back, and their moment broke. Teagan could almost picture a heavy bubble bursting, the soap splashing and flying every which way in the sun, and she was the one to pop it. He’d flirted. She’d assessed. Rebuked. Thrown a bit of sarcasm on top of the wariness she’d burdened him with earlier. After school, that had been about Bella. Now?

  Teagan turned toward the wood counter, smoothing her hands as he had done from the other side.

  “I’m sorry someone gave you a reason to be this defensive,” Noah said quietly.

  Her splayed hands froze, and the “I’m not” did
n’t make it past her lips because he was correct. Noah had been flirting with her, and she’d slammed him away. What started as a parenting discussion had turned into a far more intimate conversation, and without crossing any lines, but it was now… nothing.

  Teagan turned back to the empty sink rather than talk about her ex-husband, and Noah quietly drummed his fingers on the counter. “I wasn’t trying to pry.”

  She turned on the water for no good reason. The dishes were mostly done. Just a few left to load, and they could be finished tomorrow or after company left.

  “I know.” She stared out the window into her dark backyard, past the insulated shed and a fence line break to the pine trees that backed her neighborhood.

  The finger drumming stopped, and Noah moved to her side, arm to arm. Silently, he grabbed a dish that she’d scraped and sprayed earlier and loaded it into the dishwasher. Teagan glanced over at him, and he dropped a quiet smile to her. They went to work without a word. She scraped off the crumbs and sprayed away the cheese stuck to the plates before handing them to him. He stacked them, grabbing the glasses and lining them on the top row while she scratched baked-on cheese off a pizza stone.

  When the dishwasher was full, she filled the soap cup and put the detergent back under the cabinet as Noah shut the door.

  Teagan pressed the button for normal wash then dried her hands on the towel Noah passed to her before she tossed it to the side. “My ex-husband was a treasure-hunting con artist.”

  “Interesting profession.”

  She smiled. Not the normal response. “He was always busy, always promising riches even as he bolted at a moment’s notice.”

  She lifted a shoulder to indicate that she didn’t know what her ex had done. Didn’t care, either, but maybe that was too callous to share. “The only trip I ever joined him on was to Alaska, and we didn’t do much treasure hunting.”

  Noah made a face.

  Teagan blushed deeply. “No! I mean, he ran into friends he knew, and they left me to enjoy the wilderness for a few days by myself. Just as well.”

  “Weird to run into friends in Alaska.”

  “His friends were probably weird to begin with. They were the type to spend months scouring the Bay of Bengal or the South China Sea for riches.”