Authors: Jana Richards
Tags: #Contemporary, Holiday,Scarred Hero/Heroine,Second Chance Love
“And private. I understand.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
They worked in silence for a few minutes, and the salad was soon done. Noah’s soup simmered on the back burner of the stove, filling the air with delicious scents that reminded Renata of her mother’s kitchen. It felt like home.
Strange she would have such a feeling, considering the situation.
They took the salad and two bowls to the dining room table. Noah scooped fruit into the bowls and passed one to her, then poured her a glass of water.
“Would you like anything else? More coffee?”
“I’m fine, thank you. You don’t have to wait on me, Noah.”
He took a seat across from her. “I figure it’s the least I can do, considering what a rude bastard I am.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It’s only the truth. I know I can be selfish and mean.”
She put down her spoon. “I don’t believe that for a minute, not after where you’ve been and what you’ve done.”
He shrugged. “Work is different. It’s my personal life that I usually mess up. You can’t deny I haven’t hurt your feelings with some of things I’ve said.”
He was right; she couldn’t deny it. He’d let her get only so close before lashing out, like a dog snapping at anyone trying to take away his bone. Or perhaps like a wounded animal afraid of being hurt again.
“Okay, I won’t deny it.” She picked up her spoon once more and started to eat.
He moved the fruit around in his bowl. “I tend to push people away.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why he did that, but she stopped herself. If he wanted to tell her he would. Still, it killed her not to know what made him tick. They ate in silence. Just as she was finishing her fruit, he suddenly spoke.
“Would you still be willing to cut my hair?”
“I guess so, if you’re willing to risk it.”
“Good. I’ll get my scissors.”
When he returned with scissors, a comb, and a hand-held mirror, Renata pulled a chair from under the dining table and set it out in the open.
“Your chair awaits. Have a seat.”
She pulled a clean towel from the kitchen drawer and filled a glass with water. Wrapping the towel around his shoulders, she fingered his ponytail.
“What if I cut off the length of your ponytail and then trim up what’s left?”
“That sounds okay to me.”
“I won’t cut too short. That way if it’s really awful, you can go to a real hairdresser and have it fixed.”
“I have faith in you.”
“I have no idea why you do, but thanks.”
She slid the elastic holding back his hair a little further down the ponytail. Then holding her breath, she began cutting his hair above the elastic. With a few snips the tail was gone. She held it up for him to see.
“There you go!”
“It’s longer than I imagined.”
“You have really nice hair. You should donate it.”
“I’ll look into that.”
Renata ran her hand through his remaining hair. Without the weight of the ponytail it was a lot curlier than she’d realized. The thick mahogany curls felt like silk against her skin. It was a luxury to touch him freely, and she took full advantage.
“I’m just going to trim it a bit and make sure it’s more or less even.”
Dipping the comb into the glass of water, she ran it through his hair until it was damp all over. Then, dividing off one little section of hair in the way she remembered her hairdresser doing, she trimmed off about half an inch.
“I really hope I know what I’m doing,” she murmured as the first piece of hair fell to the floor.
“You’re doing fine.”
“How do you know? You’re not even watching.”
“Like I said, I have faith.”
She continued sectioning off the hair and trimming, feeling a little like Michelangelo chipping off bits of marble until the statue of David emerged.
And David did emerge: the shape of Noah’s head was revealed, with dark glossy curls, all perfection. The master sculptor would be proud.
She trimmed the overall length, then checked for evenness. Standing in front of him, she leaned forward and touched the sides of his face, trying to determine whether the sideburns were the same length.
“You have an intense look of concentration on your face,” Noah said with a smile.
Her attention shifted to his face, to lips mere inches from hers. She focused on his eyes instead.
Don’t look at his mouth. Don’t look at his mouth. Don’t think about kissing him.
She looked.
She imagined what it would be like to have his beautiful mouth on hers. A shiver of awareness rippled through her body. She swallowed, and forced her gaze back to his eyes once more.
“I want you to be okay with what I’ve done. Or at least not hate me.”
“I won’t hate you. Ever.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I’m not going to be disappointed with the cut.”
Renata took a step away so she could take a much-needed breath. “I think I’m done. Why don’t you take a look?” She handed him the mirror.
He ran his free hand through the damp curls. “I forgot how curly it gets. It looks great. Thank you.”
She expelled a breath, relieved. “Good. I’m glad.”
Maybe she wasn’t Michelangelo, but she felt as if she’d just created a masterpiece.
Chapter Six
After sweeping the hair from the floor, Noah refilled Renata’s cup and brought it to her. She looked up from her book and smiled. He tried to ignore the kick to the gut her smile gave him.
“Thank you.” She put down her book and accepted the cup. “You even remembered the milk.”
“Of course.” He had a feeling he’d always remember little details about her. He settled into the armchair across from her.
She tucked her feet beneath her and took a sip. “You’d be amazed how easy it is to forget things about me.”
He studied her, wondering what she meant. Glorious dark hair tumbled midway down her back in gentle waves. Pale, angelic face, womanly curves. But she was more than just a sum of her parts. Even in the short time he’d known her he’d discovered her quick wit and compassion. He wanted to know more. What made Renata Cabral tick?
“You haven’t told me why you chose this particular weekend to come to the cottage.”
Renata sighed. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”
“Then for sure you have to tell me.”
She rolled her eyes. “If you must know, I’m hiding out.”
“Are you wanted by the law or something?”
“Worse. My mother.”
That made him laugh. “What do you mean?”
She set her cup on the end table and turned her attention to Spike, who as usual was curled beside her on the sofa. She stroked him as she spoke.
“You realize what weekend this is, don’t you?”
His mind went blank. “The second weekend in February?”
Her disbelieving glance told him he was an idiot for not knowing. “Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.”
What that had to do with hiding from her mother he had no idea, but he nodded anyway.
“Remember my most recent ex-boyfriend?” When he nodded again, she continued. “Ever since we broke up, my family has been nagging me to start dating again. My Aunt Theresa has gone so far as to introduce me to a couple of ‘potential suitors,’ as she called them. I’m not ready to date again, and even if I was, I don’t think I’d go with Aunt Theresa’s choices.”
“Why is your family so anxious for you to date again?”
She sighed and scratched Spike’s ears. He rolled on his back, inviting a belly rub.
“Next month I’m going to be thirty years old. No one in my family has ever been unmarried at thirty.”
“That’s quite a record. But I still don’t understand why you had to get away this particular weekend.”
“Tomorrow, which we have established is Valentine’s Day, is my second cousin Aurora’s wedding.” She made a face. “How cheesy is that? Getting married on Valentine’s Day? Anyway, showing up at the wedding alone would be bad enough. But my mother and my aunt invited some guy to the wedding they want to fix me up with. I was mortified. They might as well paint a big L for loser on my back.”
Noah had to agree it was a bit much. “So what did you tell them?”
“Caroline and I made up an out-of-town client who was being audited by Revenue Canada. He needed emergency auditing support this weekend. I couldn’t get out of it.”
“Nice.”
“I don’t feel good about lying to my mother, but I couldn’t bear the thought of being paraded around the wedding like a slightly over-the-hill cow at an auction sale.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, and forgive me for saying so, but your family is, too. Being married isn’t the pinnacle of a woman’s accomplishments. You’re accomplished in other ways, Renata. You’re not even thirty and you and Caroline own your own business.”
“Best accounting firm in the city.”
“And you’re modest.”
A reluctant grin tugged at her lips. “One of my best qualities.”
“Not to mention beautiful.”
The grin disappeared. She turned to Spike and began rubbing his belly. He groaned in ecstasy.
“You don’t have to say that.”
“Don’t you think I mean it?”
“I think we should talk about something else. Like how you and Spike crossed paths.”
It was obvious she didn’t want to talk about herself any longer, especially her looks. He wondered at the reason, but didn’t want to push. “Spike and I met in Toronto. I stayed with my friend Mike for a couple of weeks while I tried to acclimatize myself to living in Canada again.”
“I imagine the cold was quite a shock.”
“Yeah.”
He’d landed in Toronto in January, in the middle of a snowstorm, after spending the last two years near the equator. He’d been prepared for that, knowing what Canadian winters were like. But after two years away he’d forgotten about the hectic pace of life in North America, the twenty-four-hour news channels, the endless choices in the stores, the blatant consumerism. It all seemed so meaningless after where he’d been.
Renata continued to rub Spike’s belly, much to his delight. Noah smiled at the tongue lolling out the side of the dog’s mouth.
“So you and Spike?” she prompted when he got lost in his own thoughts.
“Right. So I was staying with Mike, and one day his friend Stacy shows up with this big guy. Apparently his previous owner was an older lady, a friend of her family’s. She’d recently died, and no one in her family wanted Spike.”
“Poor baby,” she said. “I can understand it, though. He’s not a dog for the faint of heart.”
“True. Stacy wanted to keep him herself, but her apartment building doesn’t allow pets. She’d contacted everyone she knew, without any luck. She begged Mike to take him. If she couldn’t find him a permanent home immediately, she’d have to surrender him to the Humane Society. She couldn’t stand the thought of sticking him in a cage and leaving his fate up in the air.”
“I don’t blame her.”
“Mike was sympathetic, but he couldn’t take him either. He’s also a doctor, and he works long shifts at the hospital. He wouldn’t have time to walk Spike regularly and give him the attention he needed.”
“So what made you decide? Did you feel sorry for the big guy?”
“No, it was more than that.” He decided to trust her. “It’s going to sound crazy, but I looked into his eyes and saw a kindred spirit. I felt like we were meant to be together.”
“That’s so sweet. You saved him.”
“We saved each other.”
With Spike to look after, he had something else to concentrate on aside from his homecoming and his eventual meeting with his brother. Renata tilted her head, waiting for him to explain what he meant, but he wasn’t ready to go there.
“I’d planned to fly to Winnipeg from Toronto, but instead I bought the SUV and drove all the way across northern Ontario. Do you know how hard it is to sneak a dog his size into a hotel room?”
She laughed. “I can only imagine. You must have been very creative.”
“I was. And now, after everything I’ve done for him, I discover how fickle he is. He’s totally thrown me over for you.”
“Perhaps he was my boyfriend in a past life. Maybe that’s why he wants to sleep with me.”
When the sexual connotation of her words hit her, she blushed furiously and ducked her head. Visions of Renata in his bed, naked and writhing beneath him, blew through his brain with the force of a hurricane.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you meant.”
He pushed the erotic visions aside and cleared his throat. He wanted to tell her Spike was drawn to her warmth, caring, and humor, the same way he was. Instead he said, “I think he’s smitten. He’s forgotten all about me.”
“I don’t know about that.” She stroked Spike, avoiding his gaze. “He knows where his kibble comes from. As soon as I leave he’ll forget all about me.”
“I doubt it.” Noah didn’t think either of them would forget Renata any time soon.
****
Renata set the dining room table with the best dishes in the cottage, which wasn’t saying much since most of the things in the cottage had either been handed down from generations of previous owners or were secondhand items from Caroline’s house in the city. Still, she managed to find some pretty bowls for the soup Noah had made, along with a couple of long-stemmed wine glasses. She’d brought a bottle of wine with her to celebrate her liberation from her family, or perhaps to drown her sorrows at being almost thirty and alone. She wasn’t clear on her motivation for purchasing the wine, but in any case it was chilling in the fridge.
She’d also found a couple of crystal candleholders and several long tapers but had decided not to use them. The last thing she wanted was for Noah to think she was trying to set the mood for a romantic dinner.
There was nothing romantic going on. They were having homemade soup, for goodness’ sake, not a dinner of gastronomical aphrodisiacs. Still, she wanted to do something a little bit special. She found a couple of pretty teacups with saucers in the back of a cupboard, and poured some of the candy hearts into each one.
Noah ladled the soup into the bowls and brought them to the table.