As Noah idled there at the light, he remembered Myra Robinson, as feisty as she was tiny, who had somehow managed to keep Noah and his cronies pretty much in line. All she had to do was raise one eyebrow in their direction and they would pipe down . . . well, at least for a minute or two. He also recalled Myra’s niece, Jessica, who had caused quite a stir when she had shown up on her aunt’s doorstep pregnant at sixteen. But free-spirited Myra lived by her own rules. She had taken her niece in and after sweet little Madison was born, she charmed the town with her mop of blond curls and big blue eyes. Noah shook his head thinking that here he was, twenty years later, auditioning for a play that Jessica’s daughter wrote. As he passed the diner he did notice that there seemed to be some construction going on inside and hoped it meant that the restaurant remained on solid ground.
“Yes!” Noah shot a celebratory fist into the air when he saw that Grammar’s Bakery, home of the best butter cookies on the planet, was still in business. “Thank God for small favors!” he said to the blue sky and then slid his sleek red car into a parking spot directly in front of the bakery. He glanced at his watch. If he was lucky they would still have a few cookies left. He unfolded his jeans-clad legs from the driver’s seat and eased his road-weary body to a standing position before stretching. At least nobody in here would poke fun at his cowboy boots or western-cut flannel shirt. It was a bit on the cool side to have the top down, but on a bright, sunshiny day like this Noah couldn’t resist. “You can take the boy out of the country . . .” he said under his breath and then grinned. Man, it felt good to be back home.
A bell jingled when Noah tugged the door open, and he had to stop in his tracks and take a deep breath of air scented with cinnamon and yeast. “Please tell me you have some butter cookies left.”
“I think so.” A teenage girl with a pale blond lopsided ponytail glanced up from wiping the counter and gave him a bored smile.
“Sweet. I’ll take them all.” Since it was Saturday afternoon the shelves were already mostly bare, but he glanced in the glass display case and breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted a couple dozen butter cookies dotted with pastel icing. A fat cinnamon cake topped with mounds of crumble called his name, and so did a flat, crispy elephant ear. Oh, and he needed a loaf of white and a loaf of marble rye . . .
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle!” boomed the big voice of Mabel Grammar. She stood there with her hands on her ample hips and grinned while the double doors to the kitchen swung back and forth behind her. “Noah Falcon?”
Noah pushed his mirrored aviators up onto his head and grinned back. “The one and only.”
“No truer words were ever spoken.” Mabel laughed, causing her double chin to jiggle. “Well, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes?” She dusted floured hands on her apron and ambled out from behind the counter.
“And so are you, Mabel,” Noah told her and gave her a big bear hug. “It sure smells good in here.” After he stepped back he noticed that the teenager’s jaw had dropped.
“Noah, this is Chrissie.”
“Uh-uh . . .”
“You mean you’re not Chrissie?” Noah asked with a grin.
“No, I mean . . . yes. Really? You’re
Noah Falcon
?” She stood up from her slouch and suddenly appeared less bored.
“Yep.” Although Noah bestowed his best Dr. Jesse Drake soap-opera smile upon her, it grated a little that he wasn’t worth the time of day until she knew he was famous. He had experienced much of the same after he was no longer a major-league baseball player, and now that he had been booted off
Love in the Afternoon
, his net worth had taken a nosedive once again. His personal life had taken a tumble too. No one wants a has-been, only a
right-now
, and it was beginning to wear on him—but he kept his smile in place and gave her a wink. She was just a kid and meant no harm.
Chrissie’s eyes widened. “Dude, my mom was so upset when you got all blown up in that car wreck.”
“What?” Mabel took another step back and gave him a once-over. “What’s this about a car wreck?”
“On television,” Noah explained. He hadn’t seen his untimely death coming either, but before he could elaborate Chrissie interrupted with an excited wave of her hands.
“He plays Dr. Jesse Drake on
Love in the Afternoon
.” Mabel slapped her leg. “Oh, that’s right. I’m never home in the afternoon to watch.”
“You should totally TiVo it.”
“Chrissie, honey, I have no idea what in the world you’re even talkin’ about. I have a tough enough time workin’ my remote.”
“My mother never misses it,” Chrissie gushed. “She said she knew you back in high school. She said you were superhot.”
“Thanks . . . I think.”
“N-not that you aren’t now,” Chrissie quickly amended and then blushed. “You know, for an old dude.”
“Oh, Chrissie, good one,” Mabel said and slapped her leg again.
“What?” Chrissie frowned for a second, and then she said in a rush, “Oh, not
old
. . . old.”
“Chrissie, honey, you’d better quit while you’re ahead.” Mabel chuckled but then pressed her lips together when Noah gave her a look. “Oh, Noah, I think you’re still cute as a button with those dimples and all.” She reached up and pinched his cheeks.
“You meant ruggedly handsome, right?”
Mabel patted his cheeks. “You betcha. Well, except you could use a shave.”
“That’s my sexy soap-opera stubble, I’ll have you know.” When he playfully arched one eyebrow and struck a pose, Chrissie whipped out her cell phone and snapped a picture. Great—he looked like a total asshat. Plus, he wanted to keep his presence here on the down low for a while. He would have asked her to delete it, but she seemed so thrilled that he didn’t have the heart.
“Camera didn’t break, did it?” Mabel asked Chrissie, who looked at her like she was one taco short of a combo.
“Miss Mabel!”
“Oh, Noah knows I’m just yanking his chain,” she said with a wink in his direction.
“My mom is gonna freak,” Chrissie announced when she looked at the picture.
Noah laughed. Although his hometown had always showered him with pride, Noah’s friends and family also made certain that he checked his ego at the door. What they didn’t know was that except when he was on the baseball field or in front of the camera, his hotshot persona was just that—an act that he wasn’t always comfortable with. He’d much rather be noshing on chili cheese fries at Myra’s Diner than eating sushi at a fancy restaurant, but if he wanted to continue with his acting career he had to keep up his over-the-top image.
“Well, now . . .” Mabel waved her hand toward the glass cases just as the bell above the door tinkled. Noah turned to see a tall, slender woman enter the bakery. “Noah, do you see anything that strikes your fancy?” Mabel asked.
“Um . . .” Noah opened his mouth to answer but paused when the woman’s eyes widened a fraction before she pushed her rimless glasses up and sort of looked down her nose at him. Not understanding what he had done to deserve such a reaction, he tried to coax a smile from her but failed. When she abruptly turned away, Noah studied her profile, thinking that she looked a bit familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He was used to getting smiles instead of snubs, and he racked his brain but came up empty.
“Well, hey there, Olivia,” Mabel said to the woman and got a warm smile in return. Her brown hair was pulled back into a tight, controlled bun, and from her creased slacks to her ironed oxford shirt everything about her screamed prim and proper. Oh . . . but she had a full, sensual mouth that was shiny with pale peach gloss, making Noah fantasize that she was wearing black lace lingerie beneath her neatly pressed pants. He could just imagine her loosening her bun and shaking her hair free . . .
“Noah?” Mabel persisted. “Have you decided what you want?”
“Yeah . . .” he answered, but cookies were no longer on his mind. “I have.”
When he failed to elaborate, Mabel shook her head and turned to Olivia. “What brings you in today?”
“Do you have any butter cookies left?” Olivia asked hopefully. Like her appearance, her voice seemed all business but possessed an unexpected throaty edge along with a hint of the South.
“I believe we do,” Mabel answered and then glanced at Chrissie.
“Um, Miss Lawson, I’m afraid that Dr. Jesse Drake, I mean, Noah, um,
Mr. Falcon
already spoke for them.”
“Oh,” she said in a disappointed tone and glanced down into the glass case.
When she licked her bottom lip Noah heard himself say, “I’ll share them with you.”
“Thanks . . . but no,” Olivia replied in a gracious but not overly friendly tone. She smiled, but it was a tight little smile that matched her tight little bun. By rights Noah should have been totally put off.
But he wasn’t. Not even a little.
Women young and old usually fawned all over him. He never quite understood it, but he had come to expect it, and Olivia Lawson’s snooty attitude intrigued him.
“Put her cookies on my bill,” Noah said firmly to Chrissie.
“I appreciate your kind offer.” Olivia inclined her head at him and bestowed another tight smile upon him. “Truly. But that won’t be necessary.”
Noah glanced at Chrissie and then back at Olivia. “I insist.” He gave her a megawatt smile that had never failed him.
Until now.
Olivia’s chin came up a notch and a delicate eyebrow arched above her glasses. “No . . . but
thank you
,” she said smoothly but firmly, like Southern Comfort sliding over cracked ice.
Noah realized that Mabel and Chrissie were looking back and forth at them like a tennis match, which caused his competitive nature to rise to the occasion. But he had to wonder why Olivia Lawson had such a bur up her butt anyway. Again, her name sounded familiar and yet he still couldn’t place her. Okay, the ball was in his court, so he smacked it. “In fact, you may have them all. I suddenly have a craving for cinnamon cake instead.”
“I wouldn’t dream of denying you the cookies, Mr. Falcon. I eat them all the time. I’m sure it’s been a while since you’ve had one.”
“Sad but true. Ah . . . and as I recall they simply melt in your mouth, don’t they?”
Olivia’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “Yes, and I hope you enjoy your treat.”
“But I’ll be in Cricket Creek for a while, so I can part with them. Chrissie, give Miss Lawson the cookies.”
Chrissie stood behind the counter with a white bag and a tissue paper in her hand and eyed them uncertainly until Mabel stepped in. “Oh, for pity’s sake! Chrissie, divide the cookies between the two of them. They’re on the house.”
“Mabel, no!” Olivia fisted her hands on her hips and looked at Noah as if he had just committed a crime, when all he was trying to do was be a nice guy.
What’s up with this chick, anyway?
“In fact, I’ve changed my mind. I’ll take the elephant ear. And a carton of chocolate milk.” When Chrissie opened her mouth to protest, Olivia pressed her lips together and silenced her with the raise of one hand.
“Okay, Miss Lawson,” Chrissie said and bent her head to her task.
“Thank you,” Olivia replied more gently, but she appeared a bit flustered. “How is your essay coming along, Chrissie?”
Chrissie sighed with the drama of a teenager. “Okay, I guess. But I won’t lie. I hate it.”
“Writing a good essay is the key to doing well in college. Just remember to back up your thesis. Rough draft is due on Tuesday.”
Chrissie nodded glumly. “I know.”
“So, you’re a teacher at Cricket Creek High School?” Noah tilted his head in question.
“Yes, English and drama,” she answered and then looked at him a bit expectantly. There was something here he wasn’t getting and he was dying to know just
what
, but she turned her head, dismissing him. He heard Mabel chuckle and looked her way, but she tried to disguise her mirth with a cough and then straightened up some loaves of bread.
Noah turned his attention back to Olivia, who accepted the white paper bag along with the carton of milk with a smile. For some reason the image of Miss Prim and Proper eating the big, flat, sticky elephant ear and washing it down with chocolate milk from the carton struck him as funny, but he wisely kept his amusement to himself, something he normally didn’t do.
“You know I’m always willing to stay after school and help or you can e-mail me. Don’t hesitate. Okay, Chrissie?”
“I won’t,” Chrissie replied. “Thanks, Miss Lawson.”
“You’re welcome. See you on Monday,” Olivia said and turned to leave.
“Thanks for stopping in, Olivia,” Mabel said and was rewarded with another warm smile. Noah, however, got a brief polite nod as she breezed past him, leaving behind a sultry floral scent that was even more enticing than the aroma of baking bread.
Noah watched her walk out the door and then moved to the side and angled his head past a wedding cake in the front display window. He watched Olivia pause and glance at his Corvette, raise her chin, and then sashay across the street. “What? She hates sports cars? Come on, it’s an American classic.”
“She drives a hybrid,” Chrissie explained.
“Figures,” Noah mumbled but then watched her until she was out of sight.
“Somebody sure is smitten,” Mabel observed in a deep singsong voice.
“Uh . . . ye-ah,” Chrissie echoed with a head bop. “Wait. What is ‘smitten’?”
Noah turned around to face two smiling women. “I’m not smitten. I’m . . . perplexed.”
“I think you mean intrigued,” Mabel commented and widened her eyes when Noah gave her a look. She waved her hands in the air as she took a step back. “I’m just sayin’.”
“Am I wrong or does the woman dislike me for no apparent reason?” He looked from Mabel to Chrissie.
Chrissie nibbled on the inside of her cheek and wiggled her shoulders back and forth while in thought. She suddenly stopped and pointed at him. “Maybe you knew her, like, you know, when you lived here?”