Glancing down the hall, I made sure Cameron was still at the back of the house. Next, I grabbed the baseball bat that Dad kept in the entryway closet and peeked through the peephole.
Noah Dunaway stood outside the door.
He was quite possibly the only man who looked that good through a peephole. He even looked great with a giant head. My heart sped up as I unlocked the door and opened it.
I tried for a casual pose by leaning on the baseball bat with one hand, but the bat slipped against Mom’s polished wood floor, and my face slammed into the door frame.
“Whoa, you okay?” Noah’s hand latched onto my arm as he pulled me upright. The warmth of his hand sent tingles up my arm.
“Oh, I’m great. Fine. What are you doing here? Did you get my present? Isn’t it perfect? Everyone loves goats. Just look at how goat yoga took off. Isn’t he adorable?”
He raised an eyebrow at me and said in a rye voice, “You and I must be talking about two different goats.”
“What did Zeke do?” I swung the door wide and motioned for Noah to come in.
“Zeke?” he asked as he stepped inside and looked around.
“Yes. Ezekiel. The goat.”
“Ah, yes, Zeke is happily at my sister’s little farm now, but not before he broke the keyboard on my laptop, ate a couple of invoices in my office, and chewed the door handle off the bathroom stall.”
I covered my mouth with my hand. “Why was he in the bathroom?”
“We didn’t know what else to do with him. Kent left him in there until my sister picked him up.”
I shook my head. It was so hard to find good employees these days. If people couldn’t even figure out where to put a goat, were they any help running a golf course? I didn’t think so.
“Come in; we’re about to make some popcorn and watch a movie. Tell me all about it.”
To my surprise, he nodded, slipped off his shoes like a civilized person should, and followed me to the kitchen. Finally, a man who didn’t bring disgusting, germy shoes into the house.
I glanced down as he walked beside me. His thin, black dress socks made my fuzzy purple socks stand out even brighter. When we reached the kitchen, he leaned against the counter while I popped a bag of popcorn in the microwave. He folded his arms across his chest and crossed his ankles. He filled the kitchen. I could feel his presence everywhere.
It was too much, but I loved it. I didn’t know why he was standing in my parents’ house, but I wouldn’t argue with whatever brought him. His eyes were on me as I dumped the popcorn in the bowl. I didn’t know if men like him ate popcorn, but women like me do. Shoving a handful of popcorn in my mouth, I called Cameron.
“Popcorn’s done!”
Cameron dashed into the room.
“Hmm, thanks Page,” he said as he shoveled a couple of handfuls popcorn in his mouth. He finished chewing before he realized there was a stranger in our kitchen. So strange that he wasn’t aware of Noah’s presence from the minute he knocked on our door the way I was.
“Cameron, this is Noah. Noah, this is my little brother, Cameron.”
Noah smiled and shook Cameron’s hand. I could count on one hand how many times I’d seen Cameron blush, but this was one of them. He straightened his small shoulders and gripped Noah’s large hand with his thin ten-year-old hand. “Nice to meet you.”
I nodded approvingly. Mom and Dad were teaching the cretin some manners. I’d have to tell them what a good job they were doing.
“I’m stuck with Page on Mom and Dad’s date nights, even though I’m old enough to stay home by myself. Page says I’ll never be old enough to stay home by myself.” He rolled his eyes, and I reached over to pinch his side.
“Better me than the twins,” I reminded him.
He shuddered then told Noah while rolling his eyes again, “Lilly and Laney are so annoying.”
Noah glanced at me with an amused smile on his face.
“They’re seventeen,” I explained.
“Aha. I remember when my sister was seventeen. She was so annoying too.” He winked at Cameron, and I nearly melted on the spot.
“Are you staying to watch a movie with us?” Cameron asked.
Noah glanced at me, but I tried to keep a stoic face. I didn’t know what Noah wanted with me. I knew what I wanted from him but also knew I was a faster mover than most. If I decided I wanted something, I went for it and thought about the consequences later.
“I just stopped by to talk to your sister for a few minutes.”
“Are you sure you want to miss out on Indiana Jones?” Cameron waggled his eyebrows at Noah, and Noah laughed.
He had a nice laugh. I sighed, and he glanced my way. Oops. I grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoveled it into my mouth.
Noah smiled knowingly at me before he turned back to Cameron. “I could never turn down Indiana Jones.” He picked up the bowl of popcorn. “Lead the way.”
Cameron jumped up and down excitedly as the three of us headed to the living room.
“Which one are we watching?” Noah asked.
“Not the fourth one,” Cameron and I said simultaneously.
After a few rounds of eenie-meenie-miny-moe, we settled on the first one.
Noah sat down in the middle of the couch, holding the bowl of popcorn. Cameron leaped onto the sofa next to him, no qualms about pressing up against a stranger’s side.
We were a little too alike. I’d have to keep a closer eye on him.
Noah glanced up at me and patted the seat next to him. I smiled and sat down, tucking my feet under me. He tilted the bowl of popcorn towards me and smiled.
I could never tire of that sight—popcorn and a smile.
The movie didn’t hold my attention since I’d probably seen it twenty times before. All I could think about was a somewhat stoic golf course owner who was sitting on my couch in a suit and tie, eating popcorn. He was careful not to crowd my space on the couch, but it was impossible to ignore the heat or the smell of cinnamon gum wafting from him.
It was my new favorite scent.
Our hands brushed each time we reached into the bowl.
Cameron fell asleep halfway through the movie, and Noah carried him to bed for me. I didn’t want to leave him on the couch. Once he fell asleep, he was dead to the world, poor guy. As pesky as he was, I loved him to pieces. I think there was a big enough age gap between us that I felt protective of him rather than annoyed. He was a sweet kid, and I’m pretty sure I’d do anything for him. That’s why I didn’t mind hanging out on date nights with him. Soon he would be way too cool to hang out with his big sister. I intended to soak this up while it lasted. Maybe when I was old and feeble, he’d come to visit me in the nursing home.
“Thank you for helping me get him in bed. He’s not as easy to carry as when he was five.”
Noah smiled and followed me into the kitchen again. The movie still played in the background. “He seems like a good kid.”
“He is.” I took a sip of my iced tea. Caffeine was always a good idea. “So. You just stopped by tonight for movie night?”
He took the tea I offered him, then set it down on the counter. “I have a confession to make.”
Uh oh. Nothing good ever came after words like that. What kind of confession? He routinely stole cinnamon gum? Did he wear tennis shoes without socks? The options were endless.
“I don’t want a mascot for the golf course. No animals. Really, the course isn’t doing too badly. If you’re worried about me, don’t be.”
I’d known it was a bad idea, but he’d seemed so upset about his lack of mascot that I didn’t want to let him down. “I thought that’s what you were looking for—a way to draw in business.”
“I don’t want a mascot,” he repeated.
“You don’t?”
I leaned against the counter and rested my head on my hands as I stared at him.
He explained about Lucifer, “My grandpa, who left the golf course to me, had that snake imported from the bayou.�
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“What? What kind of crazy person does that?
“My grandpa. By the way, I met your cousin today.”
I coughed, trying to hide the panic. “Oh, no—which one?”
“I met Mack.”
“Aha.” I sighed with relief. Mack was one of the best cousins he could have met. He was kind to everyone. Jenny would have been a loose cannon. She made me look like a diplomat compared to her level of tact.
“He told me about when you were a kid. At first, I thought he was going to tear my head off for letting the snake get that close to you. He explained your allergy. No wonder you were terrified.”
I stared at the counter, a little embarrassed that Mack had told him everything. “Mack’s such a sweetheart. He refuses to take me out on any hikes with him because he’s worried that I’ll get bitten again.”
Noah chuckled, “Why do I get the impression you still go on hikes?”
I traced an imaginary pattern on the counter with my index finger. “I do. You’re sworn to secrecy though because Mack would have a heart attack.”
“Let’s make a deal.” Noah leaned forward and rested his arms on the counter.
“What kind of deal are we talking about?”
“Next time you feel the need to go for a hike, you take me.”
I bit my lip to keep from grinning. “Are you sure your legs are up for it? All that sitting behind a desk, you might not be up to the task.”
He smirked. “Isn’t that an even better reason to go hiking?”
“Excellent point. We’ve got to keep you healthy.” I smiled as I stared at his chest. Noah didn’t need any help to stay fit. It was obvious he didn’t spend all his time behind a desk. “You know, I hear that Zeke likes to go on regular walks. You could take him out with you—to help you fight off obesity.”
“I think I had enough exercise today.”
“Oh?”
“The goat wasn’t the only running I did today. There were exactly one hundred and twenty-two women who came into the club today thinking we were having auditions for a local Bachelor show. They thought I was the bachelor.”
I took a big drink of my tea and promptly choked.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
I shook my head as I kept coughing. Finally, when I could speak again, I asked, “Did it help widen your demographic?”
“I now have twenty new members, and I’ve already had to hide around corners to avoid them—in only one evening. I’ll have to think of a way to become attached to someone. If I had a girlfriend, I could tell them that.”
I forced myself not to raise my hand as a volunteer to make him unavailable.
It wasn’t hard to garner attention for it. Posting his profile picture on a few strategic local social media groups, he started getting likes and comments. I thought it’d be a good way to diversify his clients. There might have been some assumptions that people made... that I didn’t bother correcting.
One thing was for sure: it bothered me to think of other women chasing after him even though I was the one who sent them. Maybe I hadn’t thought that part through when I’d planned a single ladies’ night.
“Well, how are we going to solve this problem?”
He stood up and carried his cup to the sink, “I’m open to suggestions.”
“Hmm, well, you could go through with it. Host your own version of The Bachelor.”
He muttered under his breath as he turned around to face me. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped closer to me. “I’m not going to date a bunch of strange women just to save my golf course.”
“That’s not very self-sacrificial.”
“I’m not that kind of guy.”
“What a shame.” I opened the Tupperware lid to the chocolate chip cookies Kylie had baked for my parents when she was over earlier. Smelling the delicious aroma, I broke a small bite off and ate it.
“What are you going to do about it?” His voice was so low it was almost a whisper.
“What am I going to do about it? It’s not my golf course.” I took another step closer.
“You sent the women,” he reminded me with a pointed look.
Technically, I didn’t. They sent themselves. But he didn’t look like he was in the mood to argue. I tried my best for an apologetic, innocent expression. “I just wanted to help you.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up. “I appreciate that, but next time, why don’t you come into the office and talk with me about it? Or better yet, you can give me your phone number, and I’ll call you with a mayday whenever single women hunt me up at the golf course.”
He held his hand out expectantly.
I slapped a cookie in it. He raised both eyebrows. “Your phone.”
“Oh.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and unlocked it before I handed it to him. He typed something on it, and then I heard a chime. I could only assume he’d sent himself a text. He reached past me and set the phone down on the counter, crowding my space but careful not to touch me. I didn’t want to breathe.
He leaned back and shoved his hands in his pockets again. “I better get going; it’s getting late. But I’m looking forward to you helping me with my single-lady problem.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. As long as I can sing some Beyoncé,” I promised with a smile.
“We’ll talk soon.” He walked out of the kitchen and to the front door. When he grabbed the handle, he turned to look at me. He looked surprised to find me standing behind him, but my mom always taught me it was rude not to walk a guest to the door.
“Page Boone.”
“Yes?”
“You’re something else. Don’t change.”
With that, he left me standing there with a bad case of butterflies in my stomach and stars in my eyes.
Stopping in front of the pet store on the way to work the next morning, I snapped a picture of the sign, then texted it to Noah. Pete’s Pets.
Next, I snapped a picture of a fluffy white puppy to him.
Page: Trying to find you that perfect little something.
His response was immediate.
Noah: Not that. Anything but that.
Page: You don't mean that. Everybody needs a pet.
Noah: If you want to do something nice for me, why don’t you have dinner with me?
Page: Only if we have Beignets for dinner.
Noah: Sweet tooth?
Page: Sweet teeth and lover of fried things.
Noah: If I promise to give you beignets, will you promise NOT to buy me a dog?
Page: It's a deal.
I shoved my phone into my small clutch then opened the door to the pet store. I'd promised him I wouldn't buy him a dog. That didn't mean I couldn't find something else for him.
CHAPTER TEN
NOAH
I left the all-staff meeting feeling more discouraged than I had in a while. Half my kitchen staff was threatening to quit because my new head chef demanded perfection. Reggie promised to stay on only if he got along with the new head chef, but we all knew he only seemed to know how to make greasy foods you would find at an average diner.
It was a relief to end the meeting, and now I could go back to my office and focus on deciding the future menu of the restaurant. Xavier had sent me someone he highly recommended, and I hoped it would give me the edge I needed. Xavier had found me a chef who had recently moved from the Los Angeles area. Mason Walsh. After reading his credentials and knowing I could trust Xavier’s recommendation, I hired the new chef on the spot.
“Are you sure letting half of the kitchen staff quit is the best idea?” Kent asked as he followed me into my office.
“Yes, I think it’s time we got fresh faces. The new hires are starting today, so that will be good. If the old staff isn’t happy—”
A knock on the office door interrupted me, and we turned to stare at the door.
“Yes?”
“Excuse me, sir? We have
a delivery for you.”
“Come in,” I answered. The large oak door swung inward, revealing Alisha from the front desk and a man with gray hair and leathery skin, wearing a green uniform standing behind her. In one hand he held a large box with holes in it and in the other, the strings to several colorful balloons.
“Which one of you am I supposed to sing to?” he asked.
“That depends on who it’s from,” Kent told him.
“This is from a Page Boone.”
“Oh, no. Not again. I thought you had taken care of that,” Kent groaned.
“I thought I had, too,” I replied. “I guess I’ll have to call her.”
“And I thought my girlfriends were high maintenance.”
“How could your girlfriends possibly be high maintenance? You only date them for a week.”
“Which one of you is Noah? I’m supposed to sing before I deliver.” The delivery man took a step forward, impatient to be on his way.
“Let’s do us all a favor,” I suggested. “And we’ll call it even if I take that box from you—without the singing.”
“Good enough for me.” The man looked relieved.
“Alisha, you can go back down to reception. Sir, you can just set that box here on the desk.”
“What about the balloons?” The delivery man asked.
“Better hand those to Kent.”
“Thanks for nothing,” Kent complained.
The delivery man left the room. Kent and I stared at the box containing who knew what from Page Boone. I didn’t know how she kept surprising me, but a singing delivery did the trick.
“Who wants to open it?”
“It’s addressed to you, boss.”
“Stop calling me boss, you run this golf course as much as I do. Fine, I’ll open it.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and pried open the top of the wooden box. I was pleasantly surprised that nothing jumped out and bit me. It was a small tank with two geckos in it. There was a note taped to the tank. I carefully lifted the box out and set the geckos—and their home—on my desk, then pulled the envelope off and ripped it open:
Dear Noah,
Friends Like These Page 8
