What the hell just happened? Ethan rubbed his tired eyes, doing his best to stay vertical after his twelve-hour shift. I can’t believe I just agreed to let a woman stay at my house.

But telling Maggie Conroy to find another option was like telling a herd of deer to stop pooping in his yard or eating his bushes. He’d lived in Elkridge long enough to know once the café’s owner made up her mind, not much could change it.

“Is my mom going to be all right?” Noelle touched his arm as he set the kennel in the back of his car.

“You need to have that conversation with your mother.”

“My mom never tells us kids anything. You must know what she’s like.”

When those troubled green eyes looked up at him, he donned his shield of impartiality. “I do. Your mother is like a cabinet filled with medications. She’s always there to help ease the pain, but she doesn’t come with instructions, and she might have some unexpected side effects.”

The little twitch at the corner of her mouth eased the tension tightening across his shoulders.

“Exactly.”

Noelle’s eyes sparkled with a kinship he didn’t want to feel.

She pushed her fingers through the kennel’s metal grate to reassure Cheddar and give him a little scratch. “Is she going to die?”

His gut muscles clenched with regret. He hadn’t meant to cause unnecessary worry, but he had, and that was on him. He closed the hatchback of his car slowly, then turned to look at her directly. “Someday, but not any time soon.”

“Good. That’s good.” She crossed her arms and drew a circle in the snow with her foot. “You don’t have to do this.” Noelle’s thoughtful yet worried face tugged at his hardened heart. “I have bedding in my car.”

“Sleeping in that thing would be like using one of the sleepers at an urgent care clinic, only worse. There’s no way to stretch out.” He sighed and opened the passenger side door. “Besides, you must remember what it’s like to live in small-town USA. Everyone knows everything. If you sleep in your car, my uncle will find out, and then your mom will refuse to make me my favorite sourdough blueberry pancakes.”

She thought he was serious, but a speck of humor tickled his throat.

“Believe me, I know how tiny this town can be, but what will people say about us staying under the same roof?”

“Your mom doesn’t care.” And since he wasn’t planning to get within twenty feet of her, he wasn’t worried about the short-term situation. “I’m tired, and I can’t put energy into what others think. I can handle it if you can.”

“It’s not like I’m shacking up with a loser.”

“A loser?” He swallowed back his annoyance.

“I meant—”

He waved off whatever she was about to say. “Well, at least you don’t think I’m a rapist attacking lone women on the side of the road.”

Her face lost a bit of her cherry color. “I would never think that.”

He leaned in. “Right. When I first arrived, you looked at me like some prison escapee. Doctors are telepathic and know when people are lying.”

A curious glaze covered her eyes. “Do doctors take classes or something?”

“No. We watch Lie to Me. You might not have seen the television show. The crime drama only ran for three seasons, but we watch the reruns. It was a fascinating show about microexpressions and body language. I was bummed when it got cancelled.”

“Too bad I didn’t watch a couple of episodes. My judgment is poor when it comes to men, and I’m always the one who’s on the losing end. But, I’ve recently established a no-jerk rule.”

“No-jerk rule?” he choked out.

“Jerks are no longer permitted to impact my life.”

Ethan scanned her good-natured eyes framed by blond curls peeking out from under her hand-knitted cap, but right now teeming with turbulence and…hurt. She looked adorable, and Ethan could see how some guys might take advantage of her cheery and vulnerable nature, but he wouldn’t be one of them.

“I’d better get you in bed.”

“Excuse me?”

Her eyes and lips bulged like one of the squeeze toys he kept on his desk to relieve tension. The exaggerated expression seemed adorably funny, especially to his overtired mind. A pebble of joy skipped across the surface of his mind, disturbing the guilt plaguing him for the past three years. His heart pounded a bit faster and flickered to life.

“Look, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I’m sure you’ve had a long drive and are tired.” He walked around to the other side of his car before he said something else inappropriate. Maybe if she didn’t remind him of a cinnamon roll—all sugary sweet, with vanilla cream frosting—he’d be able to think straight. Sure enough, when she closed the passenger door, she smelled even sweeter. Her scent wafted and concentrated inside the car. He cracked his window to freeze his over-imaginative brain, which had decided to take him places he shouldn’t go.

“Are you sure I can’t make it to your place in my car?”

She wanted to have her car with her, a way to escape, and he didn’t blame her. He glanced in the rearview mirror at the pile of stacked luggage, guitar case, and litter box. How she’d managed to fit all that stuff in her compact car, he wasn’t quite sure. “Positive.” He shoved his car in gear and backed out of the parking spot.

At the edge of town, the fidgety Noelle returned.

“I thought you lived in Elkridge.” She leaned forward, looking left and right.

“I do. I live on the ridge.” He pointed, “over there. I like the peace and quiet.”

She didn’t comment when he turned off the main road.

The gravel road steepened and snaked up the side of the hill to his place. When his tires slipped on the ice, he stopped to adjust the traction settings. The vehicle’s tires spun, then caught, and began slogging up the hill.

While he bounced from rut to pothole, she peered over her shoulder to check on the orange cat.

“We’re almost there, Cheddar.”

Noelle’s amiable nature was almost too much to handle. She reminded him of his wife. Brigitte put everyone else first, which was why he never felt he deserved her. She took her time with each person, and effortlessly made every individual feel special. The outside world disappeared when she took your hand. He never could put a finger on the pulse of why she loved him, but she did. But if she hadn’t been so giving, she wouldn’t be dead.

Guilt gripped him, as black and hard as the ice beneath his tires.

Noelle grabbed the door handle while the car rocked back and forth.

“We’re almost there.”

“I’m good. Maybe you can drive around for a while. Bouncing around like this might make my fitness tracker stop squawking at me to exercise.”

The corners of her mouth curled up in tight little swoops. When she got older, those little smiles would bracket her mouth with marionette lines—proof she’d lived her life fully and well.

Back in his twenties, he would have considered her smile cute—and maybe not just her smile. She had an appealing face, with pillowy lips, soft and smooth as a lake in winter. If he were younger, he might consider taking a glide across her amenable mouth, circling to cover every surface. But his older, more conservative self knew the dangers of indulging.

His wife had encouraged him to explore life. Push to the edge. Take risks. She was a balloon filled with helium, and he was the string who kept her grounded. Finding that type of uplifting bliss had been a blessing, one he treasured, if only for a short while. Brigitte was gone now, and nothing could bring her back.

He parked in his regular spot and shut off the engine. “The front door is open. I’ll get your things if you want to take your cat inside. Be careful, though. It’s probably a bit slippery. I haven’t sanded the steps, and Trapper most likely will greet you at the door. I’m not sure how he is around cats.”

“You don’t lock your doors?”

“There isn’t anything in there worth stealing.”

Because Brigitte and Callie aren’t here.

With kennel in hand, she made her way up the slippery path toward the door, pausing to set the kennel on the wooden porch. Turning the handle, she pushed the door open an inch or two until the fat head of a Rhodesian ridgeback nudged the door open and pushed through the open crack.

“Oh. You’re adorable. Look at you.” She knelt and let the old guy lick her face. “Yes, I know. I kept your daddy away too long. I bet you need to go potty.” She set the kennel inside, and unhooked the leash from its place on the wall by the door.

“He doesn’t let other…” people walk him.

Trapper trotted after her like he had a new lease on life. Not once did he look back. How odd. Just yesterday he could barely get down the stairs.

Desperate to ignore Noelle Conroy’s disturbing presence, he concentrated on carting her luggage inside and up the stairs to the second bedroom.

Getting involved with another free spirit, especially one who would be here only a short time, wasn’t smart. Well, at least the temporary bit didn’t figure into the equation. He had a medical practice and patients to focus on. He was just getting established in the town, and he wanted to keep his feet firmly headed in the same direction.

On his last trip inside, she reappeared. “All done. He’s a good boy. He went number one and two, so he should be done for the night.”

One and two? He closed his eyes, remembering Callie with Trapper as a puppy. They went everywhere together. His daughter would have said something similar. Callie found humor in the slightest things. A butterfly. An anthill. A weird-shaped rock. She was his energy. His cloud of joy. His light—a light that no longer shed its warm rays on his heart.

He struggled to swallow back the picture book of memories so he could breathe.

“I’ve put your things in a room upstairs. The sheets are clean, and there’s another blanket in the hall closet if you get cold.”

“You’re being kind, but believe me, I’m just grateful I don’t have to sleep in my car. Do you have somewhere I can put Cheddar’s litter box?”

“By the back door is a laundry room. You can put it in there.”

When he handed her the box, his hand touched hers. The ordinary exchange shouldn’t have meant anything, but his hand and arm tingled anyway.

“I want you to know how much I appreciate your help.” She took a step closer, then tipped her head to see out the front door. “It’s a full moon tonight. It must be my lucky day.”

Ethan tilted his head back. “It is a full moon. In some cultures, a full moon is a symbol of transition from life to death—neither good or bad.”

Noelle stared at him for a long, silent moment. “You didn’t have to let me stay here, you know.”

“Where else would you stay? Your mom is right. All the rentals and hotels are full for the season. And besides, it’s only temporary, since you’re off to LA with the New Year, right?”

Yeah, keep reminding yourself of that, Ethan. She’ll be gone in a couple of weeks. He wasn’t interested in another flighty woman who loved to travel and dream and be where the action was instead of being surrounded with friends and family in a safe, stable environment.

“I am. But still.”

Her eyes searched his face as if studying a map, trying to find the best route to take. After a few seconds, she shook her head and sighed. “I have friends here. I’ll try to find somewhere else to stay tomorrow.”

Relief surged and eased the tension knotting his shoulders. Not having Miss happy-happy-joy-joy around would make his life easier. He might just coast his way through Christmas and New Year’s if he didn’t have to deal with this perky blonde.

Twelve more days. He could make it through the end of the year if he just kept putting one foot in front of the other.

People, whether they realized it or not, had expectations. Like having a conversation, or showing an interest in something trivial. He didn’t do trivial. He’d forget important things like birthdays and anniversaries and social commitments. His mother used to tease him that when he was born the only thing left to hand out was smarts, that benevolence and grace were out of stock.

His mother never figured out that he withdrew into his mind because the outside world presented requirements and demands he could never live up to. He was eight when he overheard his parents arguing about how he wasn’t trying hard enough—that he wasn’t living up to his potential. After that he retreated and focused on his studies, hoping one day he could please his parents with academic success and prove he was lovable.

He bet Noelle had no concept of being socially awkward. She was the brightest light in the room. Just like Brigitte had been.

“You don’t have to worry about anything until tomorrow. Feel free to make yourself at home. The kitchen is at the end of the hall. There’s only one bathroom, though, but I’ll consolidate my stuff before I go to bed. Extra towels are in the hall closet.”

Ethan expected her to flee upstairs with her cat, but she seemed content, or maybe undecided about which way to turn.

Did she need directions? “I put your stuff in the second bedroom. It’s the third door on the right at the end of the hall.”

“Thank you.” She scanned his sparse living space. What did she see? A couch. A fireplace. No television. No pictures. No life.

She shrugged out of her ski jacket, draped the hood on the coat hook, then opened the kennel door to watch Cheddar stretch, then make his way into the hall, sniffing each surface as he went. “Do you have any hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate?” He did a quick mental inventory of his sparse staples. “No, but I think I might be able to find a tea bag if you would like.”

“That would be great. I’ll get Cheddar settled.”

“The water can be heated in the microwave. I’ll leave the tea and mug on the counter.”

“I thought maybe you could join me.”

“For tea?” Oh, that would be a bad—a very bad—idea. Keeping conversations to a minimum created distance and allowed him to remain disinterested. “I don’t do tea. Only beer, and a whiskey once in a while.”

“Don’t doctors usually warn patients about drinking alcohol before bed?”

Not everyone’s seen the horrors I have. “Do you believe everything you read on the Internet?”

Color blotched her cheeks.

“Sorry. That was rude.” He massaged his neck. “I should seriously shut up now.”

Her mouth curled like she was doing her best not to smile.

The tender expression on her face seemed out of sync with her stated no-jerk rule. He was being a jerk, and there was no reason she should be so polite.

Noelle must be the type of person people smile back at for no reason—a sparkling little snowflake who brought joy to everyone around her.

He couldn’t be around a person like that.

Not today.

Not tomorrow, either.

She was just too…too extraordinary, and he couldn’t handle being around someone so completely disorganized. Spending even one day around someone who disrupted his stable, predictable life was taxing. Two weeks might just trigger heart failure.

Then again, a social butterfly determined to break into the entertainment business wouldn’t want to settle down with a small-town doctor in a place she obviously wanted to escape. He was safe.

“Help yourself to whatever you like in the kitchen. The tea and cups are in the cabinet to the left of the sink.” He took a step back, then another. “I need to hit the sack. You probably won't see me in the morning, since my shift starts early.”

“I’ll make you breakfast. It’s the least I can do.”

“I don’t eat breakfast.”

“Let me guess. You drink protein shakes.” One brow slid in a questioning arc. “No eggs? Toast? Orange juice?”

He shook his head.

“Why not? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

Her attempts to lighten his mood didn’t go unnoticed. Having Noelle in his life for a few days might restore a childlike quality to his life, a cherished essential missing for far too long. She might remind him what fun was like. She might take him on an adventure. Fill his life with blueberry pancakes, raspberry waffles, or huevos rancheros. She would naturally want to fill his life with sugar and spice, and everything would be so blissful and nice, because she was that type of woman.

Yes, Noelle Conroy would make him feel something good, even hopeful, and he just couldn’t go there. Once in his life he felt fulfilled and blissfully happy. His life had been perfect. Only to be snatched away.

Allowing Noelle to tempt him with her soft smile, warm heart, and sensual curves could create memories, new memories.

“I’ll pass on breakfast and say good night.”

Without waiting for a response, he made his way to the staircase while he whistled for Trapper. The dog’s nails click-click-clicked across the hardwood floor, finally pausing his lumbering gait at the bottom stair. Trapper looked up with a soulful whine.

“I know, buddy. Those hind legs don’t work as well as they used to. I’ll help you up the stairs.” Ethan lifted the dog, and Trapper laid his head on Ethan’s shoulder, no doubt watching his newly-discovered friend disappear with every step taken toward the second floor.

Ethan didn’t look back.

Just twelve more days.

He just needed to stay numb for twelve more days. Then it would be a new year, and he could start counting the days all over again.