He and Noelle look alike, though Felix has Kate’s soft hazel eyes. In some lights, they look green like Rora’s, in others, they’re a warm brown. Eyes aside, Noelle and Felix are unmistakably siblings. Their mannerisms are identical, from the way they eat left to right across their plates, to the way they light up from head to toe when they laugh.
It’s the same way Charlie laughs; it’s easy to see that they’re a patchwork of their parents.
“That was damn good,” Charlie says, finishing the last bit of his pie. Charlie, Kate, and Henry all grew up in Texas, and Noelle and Felix lived there for a good few years before moving to Wyoming. It’s been more than twenty years since they moved here, but Charlie and Henry still have a strong southern drawl. Kate has all but lost the twang, and Felix and Noelle only have it on certain words—it’s stronger when they’re around their dad and uncle, though.
“Thanks, Dad,” Noelle says, barely fighting a yawn. “Shay gets all the credit, though. I was going to bring cookies from the freezer.”
“They would still have been delicious,” I chime in, and she glows.
“So,” Charlie continues, just as I take a sip of my lemonade. “Shay. What exactly are your intentions with our daughter?”
I almost spit out my drink.
“Dad!” Noelle immediately shouts, aghast. “What the hell? No. We’re not doing this.”
“But honey, we didn’t get to do it with Rora,” Kate says. “This is our only chance.”
“Yeah, we all knew exactly what Uncle Henry’s inten—hey!” Felix protests as Rora balls up her napkin and throws it, hitting him square in the face.
“What was that about intentions?”
Henry clears his throat, interrupting before they start fighting. “Personally, I don’t think we need to subscribe to that kind of patriarchal bullshit, anyway.”
Rora looks at him like he’s just stripped naked in front of her, and I get it; Henry’s not my type, but feminism is hot.
I put my hand on Noelle’s knee, and she automatically snuggles closer to me.
“Since Noelle and I have officially been together for about”—I look at the mistletoe clock above the kitchen door—“twenty hours, we haven’t had much time to talk about that kind of thing. But I guess right now, my intention is to do what I can to take some of the stress off her shoulders and help her through the holiday season—as much as she’ll let me, anyway.”
I look around the table to gauge the reaction, and Rora actually looks impressed. Thank god.
Kate sighs. “Damn. That was a great answer. How are we supposed to interrogate you now?”
“You’re not, Mom.” Noelle’s eyes crinkle when she looks at me. “It was a great answer, sweetheart.”
Suddenly, I can’t wait to get her home and in my arms. I love being here, but I miss holding her.
Felix pushes back from the table and stands, Sunny perched on his arm. “Who’s ready to get their A-S-S beat at Monopoly? Sunny’s on my team.”
31
NOELLE
Idream of sugar, to-do lists, dirty dishes, and cinnamon-scented smoke, a blaring alarm, and someone shouting my name, and?—
“Noelle. Wake up.”
I wake with a start, Shay shaking my shoulders. Her eyes are wide, and she has her T-shirt pulled up over her mouth. It only takes me a single inhale to realize why—the smoke wasn’t a dream.
“Where?” I choke out before covering my mouth. My bedroom isn’t visibly smoky, but I can feel it.
“Downstairs, I think.”
The bakery. Shit.
Unlike Shay’s apartment, which is accessed by stairs outside, my stairway is directly connected to the bakery. When I first moved in, I thought that was a perk, to be able to go from my bed to work without going outside, but the convenience quickly became cloying when I realized it felt like I was always at work. I didn’t consider the safety concerns.
We move like we’re in double-speed, pulling on pants and shoes, trying not to breathe in the smoke. Thank god we left Croissant sleeping at Shay’s last night—I can’t imagine trying towrangle a scared cat right now. As it is, I barely manage to grab my phone before Shay pulls me out of the bedroom.
