Chill Out (3 page)

Noah chuckled at that. “So he wasn’t handy in the kitchen?”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

She smiled, but the thought of Kevin saddened her. She’d put everything she had into their failed relationship, had thought she loved him. She’d believed he was the one, but in the end he’d walked away without a backward glance.

Before Kevin there’d been Paul, and before him James. Both of them had walked away as well, saying it was them, not her. She was great. They just wanted something…different.

She was almost thirty years old. Would there ever be someone in her life who couldn’t walk away from her?

Don’t go there, Renata.
She’d spent way too much time mourning the death of her relationship with Kevin and wondering why she was so unlovable. She had many things to be thankful for. She had a great—if overbearing—family, wonderful friends, and a job she loved. Nobody got everything they wanted in life.

“You okay, Renata?”

She looked up at Noah, startled by his question. She must be getting really maudlin; now even relative strangers were picking up on her moods. She made herself smile.

“Yes, of course.” She scrambled for something else to talk about, then noticed the unusual tattoo on his forearm. About the size of a pine cone and all in red, it looked like an overweight stick man purposefully striding down a road. She pointed to it. “What does this tattoo represent?”

Noah glanced at the tattoo. “It’s the logo for
Médecins Sans Frontières.
I’ve been working with them in Africa and the Middle East for the last couple of years.”

“Doctors Without Borders? You’re a doctor?”

“You don’t have to look so surprised. I did manage to pass all the exams.”

“I’m sorry.” Her face heated with her blush. “I thought…I don’t know what I thought. I didn’t realize you were a doctor. Caroline didn’t mention it.”

“That’s okay. I guess I don’t look the part.”

“No kidding. My doctor is about sixty-five and has white hair and a paunch.”

He fingered his beard. “And he’s clean-shaven, I imagine.”

“Definitely. I can’t imagine him with a beard. What about you? What made you grow one?”

“Laziness, mostly. At the refugee camp in Jordon, I had to keep clean shaven for surgery. I got sick of shaving every day. So when I left a few weeks ago I let the beard grow. Makes getting ready in the morning simple.”

“What was working with Doctors Without Borders like?”

“Most rewarding experience of my life—incredible, dedicated colleagues, vital work, people who really needed us.”

“Were you ever in dangerous places?”

“Sometimes.”

“Were you ever scared?”

“Sometimes. We had security, took all the precautions we could. But in a hot zone, things happen.”

He didn’t elaborate, and Renata wasn’t sure she wanted to know. “Will you go back?”

He sipped his coffee. “I’m not sure. I haven’t ruled it out, but a lot depends on the next couple of weeks.”

When he said nothing more, Renata sat back in her chair and stared out the windows overlooking the lake. The storm raged on, the wind strengthening by the minute. Its howl enveloped the cottage and rattled down the chimney.

Noah Brownlee kept his cards close to his chest, guarding his secrets well. She was a stranger to him; it was only natural for him to withhold personal details of his life. Even so, his reticence troubled her. It made no sense, yet that’s how she felt.

But she didn’t want to pry. She wouldn’t appreciate him digging for information about her personal life, so the least she could do was offer him the same courtesy.

“Well, your timing is certainly impeccable. You managed to arrive in Manitoba at exactly the same moment as the worst blizzard of the year. What made you decide to come home in the middle of winter?”

“My brother and his wife are having their first child in a couple of weeks. I wanted to be here for the birth.”

“Oh, that’s nice. I adore my nieces and nephews. My sister Adriana has three kids, and my brother Marco has one. My baby brother Jayme and his wife are expecting their first, something my mother loves to remind me of. I get to spoil the little monsters rotten and drive their parents crazy, and I always have an excuse to see the latest kids’ movie.”

“I’ll bet you’re a wonderful aunt.”

“I’m a very cool auntie. I have all the fun of taking the kids places and buying them things without any of the responsibility of actually raising them.”

“Would you like kids of your own some day?”

With every fiber of my being.
“Sure, someday.” She quickly changed the subject. “Too bad your new niece or nephew isn’t arriving in the summer. This weather must be a shock to your system after living in such hot places. I’ll bet you didn’t miss the minus-forty temperatures while you were away.”

“Actually, I did,” he said quietly. “I missed everything about home while I was gone.”

His answer, and his melancholy demeanor surprised her. Without thinking, she grasped his hand and held on. He squeezed her hand for several heartbeats, his gaze locking with hers. She couldn’t breathe with him looking at her that way, like he needed her, and her lungs threatened to explode. But then he pulled his hand away and averted his eyes. Their moment of connection—or whatever it had been—was over.

“I need a shower.” He rose abruptly.

A picture of Noah stepping out of the shower, water sliding down his lean, muscular, naked body, popped into her head. She blinked to dispel the image. “I’ll do the dishes. It’s only fair, since you cooked.”

“Good, thanks.” He turned and sprinted up the stairs as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. Renata expelled a breath and willed her racing heart to slow down. What had just happened? She was beginning to think she would have been far safer if he
had
been an axe murderer.

****

Noah stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. When the mist cleared on the mirror over the sink, he took a good look at himself. His appearance suggested either rock star or homeless person. He fingered his beard. No rock star here. He was definitely leaning toward homelessness.

In a way, it was true. He had been homeless these last two years. When he’d left Winnipeg to work overseas, he’d given up his apartment and donated all his belongings. Perhaps subconsciously he was just living up to the part, using the hair to distance himself from others.

Was that what he was trying to do with Renata? Keep her at a distance? Despite their rocky introduction, he liked her. She was pretty, though he’d known more beautiful women, including Kendall. But he couldn’t help smiling when he thought about her. It had been a long time since he’d laughed with a woman. There was something about the way Renata instantly understood his feelings that drew him to her. Or was he reading too much into it? When she’d grasped his hand after he confessed to missing home, he felt she truly understood him. In that moment, he’d felt a deep connection to her.

He rolled his eyes at himself.
Enough with the psycho-babble.
He was letting his imagination run wild. He’d just met Renata, and instant connections like that were the stuff of fairy tales and romance novels.

He pulled a pair of scissors from his shaving kit and began lopping off his beard.

****

Renata cleaned the kitchen, then stretched out on the sofa with her romance novel and a bag of candy hearts. Her second cousin Aurora was giving the candy as favors at her Valentine’s Day wedding, and when she’d heard Renata wouldn’t be attending her nuptials, she’d sent her several small plastic favor bags. Renata opened the first bag and shook a candy into her palm.
Chill Out
it proclaimed.
How appropriate.
The candy’s message could apply to either the current weather or the admonishment her brain was trying to send to her hormones. They definitely needed to chill out when it came to Noah Brownlee. She popped the candy into her mouth.

Spike climbed up on the sofa and cuddled next to her, laying his big head on top of her legs.

“I know you think you’re a lap dog, but you’re cutting off my circulation.” She tugged her legs out from under him and placed her feet on the floor. The dog looked at her with morose eyes. “Oh, don’t turn the big, sad, puppy-dog eyes on me. That’s not fair. You know I can’t say no to you. Oh, all right.”

She put her feet back up on the sofa, this time keeping her knees bent. Spike immediately rested his head on her toes. A minute later he was asleep and snoring. Renata wondered if she should put a towel over her feet to catch the drool.

She shook another candy from the bag.
Puppy Love
.
She shook her head and smiled as she patted Spike’s head. What a coincidence.

Renata read for a while, enjoying the feisty eighteenth-century heroine’s witty repartee with the hero of the book. She also enjoyed the description of the hero: “He was six feet of corded muscle, with broad shoulders, lean hips, and powerful thighs. His flowing sable locks poured like silk through her fingers.”

Remind you of anyone, Renata?
If he’d had a beard, she’d swear the author had based her hero on Noah.

She heard the man in question coming down the stairs and turned to say hello. The simple greeting died on her lips the minute she saw him. The romance hero from her book had just come to life.

“Oh, my God! Talk about cleaning up good!”

Had she actually said that out loud?

Noah laughed and self-consciously touched his clean-shaven face. “I’m glad you approve.”

“You look very…”

She hesitated, and Noah waited, eyebrows raised. She wanted to say
gorgeous, scrumptious, good enough to eat
, but decided those descriptions might be inappropriate.

“…well-groomed.”

“Thank you. It was time for the beard to come off. I need a haircut, too. Do you think you can help me?”

“You want me to cut your hair? I’ve only ever cut my sister’s bangs, and they usually end up crooked. Besides, I don’t have proper scissors. Maybe you should wait till you get to the city and find a real hairdresser.”

“I have scissors, and I’d like to cut it today. How about this afternoon?”

“I don’t know. What if I mess it up and you don’t like it? Are you going to be angry?”

“I promise you, whatever happens, I won’t be angry.”

“Why today? You’ve obviously been growing your hair and beard for some time. Why do you feel the need to get rid of them today?”

“Like I said, it’s time. What do you say?”

Renata waited a beat, hoping he’d say more about why he’d chosen today for his transformation, but once more he kept his own counsel.

“If you’re certain…”

“I am.”

“Okay then. I’ll do it after lunch.”

The full impact of his smile nearly knocked her over. Without the beard she could see the sensuous shape of his lips, the sculpted cheekbones, and the dimple in his chin that begged her to kiss it and experience the taste of his skin.

When she realized she was staring at him, she swallowed and looked away, embarrassed. Grasping for something to say, she held out the candy to him. “Want some?”

“Sure.”

He tipped the bag and a candy dropped into his palm.

“What does it say?” she asked.

“
New You
.” Noah grinned. “Seems appropriate, doesn’t it?

She frowned. “Yeah, it sure does.”

The candy hearts were getting downright spooky.

Chapter Four

“I was thinking of making soup for dinner this evening. You want to help?” Noah asked.

“Sure.” Renata put down her book and followed him to the kitchen. “What would you like me to do?”

“You can peel vegetables. The potatoes and carrots are in the fridge.”

She opened the fridge and was amazed by the amount of food inside. “Wow, you really stocked up. All I brought was microwave popcorn and a bottle of wine. Were you expecting a zombie apocalypse or something?”

“Hey, be glad I stopped in Kenora for groceries. We could be stuck here for a while.”

She could think of worse things than being storm-stayed with an exceedingly attractive man.

“Yes, I suppose we could. Thanks for thinking ahead. Microwave popcorn gets old after a while.”

“Is that seriously all you brought?”

“No, I did bring some other food, but I was counting on being able to go to a local grocery store or maybe one of the restaurants.”

“Lucky for you I came prepared.”

“Yes, lucky for me.”

She smiled into his handsome, clean-shaven face, into beautiful blue eyes spattered with green flecks, and felt herself falling, like she’d just jumped off a bridge into dark, unknown waters. The sensation frightened her. She looked away, searching desperately for another topic of conversation.

“So what kind of soup are we making?”

“Beef vegetable. Okay with you?”

“Sounds great. How many carrots do we need?”

“Three should do it.”

She rinsed three carrots under the tap and, using the vegetable peeler, took off the outer layer. Noah brought out a large pot, heated some oil in it, then added some meaty beef bones seasoned with salt and pepper.

“You’re really going old school. Soup right from scratch.”

“My mom taught me to make it this way. This blizzard makes me crave warm comfort food.” He turned the bones to brown them on both sides, then added chopped onion, one of the carrots, and a celery rib along with water. “She was a dietician, so everything we ate as kids had to be nutritious and wholesome. She also believed in teaching her sons how to cook.”

“She sounds like a woman before her time. Does she still live in Winnipeg?”

“No, she passed away several years ago. Breast cancer.”

“I’m sorry.”