Chapter Five
Noelle stared at the door. Cute Guy from the other night stood there, Annalise now propped on one of his arms. His rather muscular arms. A detail she was aware of because of how he’d held her when they’d danced. The arms that had moved them across the floor with ease.
“If that’s the uncle, I say you definitely need to consider a baking class. Or two. Or three,” Franchesca whispered beside her.
Noelle couldn’t find words. She’d thought about him, sure, but most of the time ended up convincing herself he wasn’t real, that he wasn’t as good-looking as she remembered. Anything to put him out of her mind and move on. Seeing him now in her doorway, it pained her to admit, he was even more handsome than she remembered, and all-out drop-dead gorgeous with a tiny, pink dancer in his arms.
Noelle had never considered herself one to settle down and have kids. She loved children, but her lifestyle before would never have meshed with motherhood. And she couldn’t risk her body changing while dancing professionally. A harsh truth, but a truth nonetheless. However, watching Cute Guy with his niece as he listened to her every word as she rambled in his ear, Noelle’s ovaries stirred something fierce.
“Good Lord. If the uncle looks like that, just imagine what that little girl’s father looks like.”
Still unable to form words, Noelle nodded. Seeing them together, Annalise almost had more of her uncle’s coloring than her dad’s, the sandy hair and blue eyes matching. Her dad’s coloring was darker. But Noelle could see the resemblance. She could see they were brothers.
His long cashmere coat was camel colored, as if custom made to match his hair. Beneath it he wore dark dress slacks and a crisp white button-down. A Burberry patterned scarf hung from his neck. His black leather shoes looked untouched by the elements, almost like the weather wouldn’t dare try to muss him up. He looked like he’d stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Maybe more like Fortune Magazine. A twinge of guilt hit Noelle at teasing him for being dressed so nice at Grey’s. The man shouldn’t dress any other way.
He looked away from Annalise and made eye contact with Noelle. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered with the same shock that still coursed through her system. Handling the situation much better than she, however, he smiled, the gesture softening his face and making her sigh.
“Did you just sigh?”
That snapped her out of her trance. “No!” Although the protest sounded lame, even to her.
Franchesca laughed. “Damn, girl. You’ve got it bad. And you’ve only just seen this guy for like thirty seconds.”
“Well…not exactly.”
Franchesca put a hand on Noelle’s arm. “Wait. What? What does ‘Well…not exactly’ mean?”
“It means we sort of, kind of, danced at the saloon the other night but we never got each other’s names.” Noelle spoke to her friend beside her, but didn’t take her eyes off of Cute Guy. He set Annalise down and she scampered over to her cubby for her things.
“You danced with this guy?”
“Yes. And he’s coming over here so be quiet.” Noelle didn’t mean to hiss, but darn it, she was trying to whisper and make a point at the same time.
“So, I was right.”
Oh, dear Lord. His voice was even better the second time around. “Right about what?”
“You’re a dancer.”
Noelle nodded. “I’m a dancer. Well, I was.” She looked over toward Annalise, now headed back to her uncle. She stepped beside him, settled her little hand inside his big manly one. Noelle’s insides tingled again. For heaven’s sake, she needed to get her act together.
The child smiled up at them, a glimmer in her eye. If Noelle didn’t know any better, she would guess there was some kind of matchmaking going on. But that was impossible. A five-year-old girl wouldn’t have the ability to cook something like that up. Or would she?
Franchesca nudged Noelle with her elbow. Her thoughts spun with all that had occurred in the last few moments, knocking her mentally off balance. “Oh. Sorry. This is Franchesca.” Noelle motioned toward her friend beside her. “She runs the drama school next door.”
Franchesca held out a hand for Cute Guy to shake, which he did.
“I’m Wes. Wes St. Claire.” He spoke to Franchesca but looked at Noelle, one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile, an unspoken exchange that Noelle couldn’t have introduced him if she’d wanted to. With a tilt of his head, he turned to Noelle with his hand out for her to shake and said, “And you are…?”
She smiled at his teasing. “Noelle Olsen.” Their hands met and warmth flooded her unlike ever before. Even as they’d danced, there’d been a connection, but not this. This was more like…coming home.
Noelle pulled back first, uncertain how to handle all the emotions that crackled in the air. Her eyes never left his, however, which were filled with mischief. He was enjoying this. Her frazzled state at them meeting again, not knowing his name. The man exuded confidence. The kind where people didn’t say no to him often, if ever. The kind where he walked into a room and respect was implied, if not demanded.
Noelle had met the type. Men like Wes St. Claire moved through the arts and culture crowd in San Francisco. She’d spent many a night at a fundraiser or event promoting the arts where guys just like him wandered the room. Noelle didn’t have too high an opinion of such people, but Wes came across different. A genuine warmth brewed underneath the armor of Armani.
It was funny. She recalled the same sort of confidence in the few interactions she’d had with his brother when he dropped off or picked up Annalise, but not at this level. Maybe fatherhood had softened him? Who knew? In the few moments she’d seen Wes with his niece, she imagined the child had done some softening with her uncle as well.
They stood there, looking at one another, questions and answers wanting to be voiced, but neither one made the first move. Annalise tugged on his arm. “Uncle Dubs, are we still going out for ice cream?”
Pulled from his trance by the child’s words, he looked down at his niece. “Of course, My Lise. We can even make it a double scoop, but that’s our secret, ’kay?” He put a finger to his lips and winked. The little girl’s face lit up. Noelle felt as if her face was on fire from having the man look at her. She understood Annalise’s reaction.
“Ice cream? On a day like today?” Franchesca asked.
Wes looked at them again and shrugged. “It’s her favorite.” As if that explained getting a frozen treat on a January day in Montana when it was actual freezing temperature outside.
“And Miss Noelle said she would help you learn to bake for the action Grandfather put you in.”
With that, Noelle’s eyes grew wide and her heart sank to her stomach. She guessed not much threw Wes off his game, but even he had the same reaction.
He looked down at his niece, now staring up at him, her little eyelashes fluttering. Man, this kid was good. “What are you talking about, My Lise? Action?” He looked to Noelle for help, but words escaped her. Her mind couldn’t figure out how to explain what the child meant, as well as get herself out of it without sounding like she was turning him down. Which she would be doing but…
“She means auction,” Franchesca cut in, still beside Noelle and as engrossed in the scene as she would be a blockbuster movie. “She heard us talking about the bachelor auction coming up and got this idea that, well…” Her voice trailed off as she looked to Noelle to finish.
Annalise did it for her. “I said she could help you! Isn’t that a great idea, Uncle Dubs?” She pulled on his arm so he’d lean down closer to her level. She whispered as a child does where those standing nearby can still hear. “I know Glenna makes all our food so you can’t bake. Daddy does a little, but that’s because Mommy taught him. You don’t have anyone to teach you. Glenna is too busy. Miss Noelle is the best teacher I know so you’ll win that action for sure.” She attempted to wink at him as he had done to her moments before, but ended up blinking both eyes instead.
Under any other circumstance, the moment would be oozing cuteness, except Noelle still struggled to figure out how to get herself out of this mess. Cute Guy…Wes was someone she was curious about, for sure, but maybe go out to dinner, meet for drinks. Not bake together. That sounded so domestic and homey. Not first date material.
Franchesca’s stifled giggle beside her did not go unnoticed.
Wes cleared his throat. He looked back at Noelle. “As appealing as that arrangement sounds, I’m afraid my precious niece here has jumped the gun. I haven’t agreed to be in any auc…”
“Sure you did, Uncle Dubs. Grandfather said you had to. And when Grandfather says to do something, we have to be ’bedient.” Her eyes got huge as she nodded to the adults, hammering home that whatever her grandfather said was law.
“It’s o-bedient, My Lise,” Wes corrected. “And no, I haven’t agreed.” He spoke the last part more to Noelle than anyone else.
“But Unc…”
“Annalise. Put your coat on, please. We’ll go get your ice cream.”
At the sound of her uncle calling her by her actual name as opposed to what was obviously his pet name for her—point in the “turn her insides to mush” column of Wes St. Claire’s attributes—Annalise said a quiet “Yes, sir,” then walked to get her coat from the coat rack, much less spring in her step than before.
“She’s pretty stinking cute,” Franchesca said, breaking some of the tension.
Wes took a deep breath in and let it out. “Yes. She is. And she uses it against us constantly.”
Noelle laughed. “She is pretty hard to resist.”
His grin, along with the look in his eyes, made her knees go weak. “Does that mean you’re agreeing to help me learn how to bake?”
Oh, he was smooth, this one.
“I thought you said you hadn’t agreed to being a part of the auction yet.”
“Touché,” he said, nodding his head to her in appreciation of her comeback. “However, we’ll meet for coffee tomorrow morning.”
It wasn’t a question.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a card. Noelle looked at it. White cardstock. Expensive white cardstock with only his name and phone number on it. No email address, no other contact information. “That’s my private number. I’ll see you at the coffee shop around eight?”
“Um. Sure.” Noelle held the card in her hand, looking from the stark black letters and numbers to his sky blue eyes.
“Good then. Nice to finally meet you.” He shook her hand again, as well as Franchesca’s, swept his niece into his arms once more, and walked out the door. Not without another glance back at her, however, as well as a wink in her direction.
Franchesca whistled. “Oh, sister. You’ve got your hands full with that one.”
Snapping out of her trance, she turned to her friend. “My hands are empty, thank you very much.”
Franchesca eyed the card still in Noelle’s grip. “I beg to differ.”
Noelle rolled her eyes, aware that she looked as childish as Holly when she did it, and went to her office. She placed the card in her purse. Hands on her hips, she shook her head and laughed. What in the world had just happened? One minute she was teaching a dance class, the next she was asked, or rather told, she had a coffee date with Cute Guy from Grey’s.
She blinked a few times to snap herself back to reality. The next class was about to begin. It was time to focus. She placed a hand over her mouth and laughed. As if she could focus. Confident her mind would be on Wes St. Claire the rest of the night, she went back to the studio to teach.
*
Once inside the warmth of the car, Wes questioned consuming ice cream in Montana in the winter. But he’d promised his niece and he wouldn’t go back on that promise.
As Wilson drove them down Main Street, Wes eyed the storefronts. It was a charming town, for sure. He’d enjoyed visiting over the years. He and his siblings had even made friends in Marietta, like Jeff, his partner in crime at Grey’s. Not all his memories were bad ones.
So Wes could see his father’s reasons for wanting to stay in Marietta. It had small-town appeal. But it was so far from what they were used to in New York.
Annalise’s tug on his coat sleeve pulled him from his thoughts. The cold air as they exited the car was a shock to the system. Sure, he was used to New York in the winter, but this was different. There was a bite to it the city didn’t have. Without big buildings, the smallest breeze could add a chill his coat couldn’t fight.
They entered the Creamery, the scent of vanilla in the warm air a vast contrast to the outside, and most welcome to Wes and Annalise. Wes stuck with good old-fashioned chocolate as his choice while Annalise ordered a scoop of bubblegum, a scoop of chocolate chip, and had the entire thing covered with gummy bears. How anyone ever thought to add gum to ice cream, he had no clue. But he had a good idea he’d get an earful from Mike later over the stomachache Annalise was bound to have. Not to mention the sugar high and crash that was inevitable. But hey, that’s what uncles were for.
They chose a table near the window. Annalise chattered on about dance class, how there was some performance or something happening and the little kids might get to be involved. Moving to her school day she shared how kindergarten was tough but she only did half days for now, which she liked. She took a bite of a gummy bear, leaving the bottom half of its body stuck between her fingers as she continued to talk.
Any other time he had Annalise to himself she had his rapt attention. However, at the moment, a beautiful dancer named Noelle consumed his thoughts. Noelle. The name fit her. Graceful, feminine. As much as he’d thought about what her name could be, he’d had trouble coming up with anything that fit. But he liked how her named rolled off his tongue, like an uplifting melody.
He eyed his niece who still jabbered on, unaware of his mind wandering. The little schemer had actually tried to get Noelle to help him learn to bake. When his father first told him he was involved in the Bachelor Bake-Off auction, his head almost came off. He and his father didn’t speak for over a day.
And he was telling the truth, he hadn’t agreed to anything. Yet. With the possibility of a certain dance teacher helping him, maybe the Bake-Off thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all.