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treat her or think of her after their one-night stand, but now she realized she had been afraid. Afraid that it was just a one-time thing. Instead, he was making her feel like a princess.
    “I’m not lactose-intolerant,” she assured him, and reached for the milk and sugar. The aroma of the coffee was beyond enticing. But beneath that, behind it—
    Elise sniffed. “Is that bacon?”
    Noah smiled. “Sausage, I think. And more. If you come downstairs.”
    “Did you cook breakfast for me?” she demanded, her words faint.
    He looked evasive. “Maybe. Sort of. Come down and see.”
    The prospect of breakfast, especially breakfast that someone else had made, made her get dressed like nothing else could. Noah kept his hand at the small of her back as they descended the stairs, reassuring her. The heavenly breakfast smells increased. She really hoped that it wasn't just some kind of duplicitous breakfast-scented candle. She was going to be very disappointed if it was. Surely Noah wouldn't be that cruel.
    The sounds of conversation got louder, too.
    “Who else is here?” she stage-whispered to Noah, her nervousness rising.
    He grinned. “Some people I want you to meet.”
    They passed through the waiting room, where Cecil was on one of the couches, still conked out and tucked into a blanket, and into a private room behind.
    Elise gaped. It was a spacious, if plain, dining area and kitchen. There were six people sitting at a table that was large enough to seat ten at least. But what really got her goose was that the table was laid out with a veritable cornucopia of breakfast foods. Plates towered with sausages and scrambled eggs.
    At Elise's entrance, a quiet “ooh” rose up from a few of the strangers. She felt herself turn pink.
    “Everyone, this is Elise.” Noah hadn't taken his hand from her back. “Elise, this is everyone. Which is to say, this is the crew of Sweetwater Automotive.”
    “Hi, Elise,” the group chorused. Several people shot knowing or amused looks at Noah. He returned them steadily.
    “Come on, don't make me put on my chief hat. Introduce yourselves,” he chided.
    One guy, who had been leaning back in his chair with a nonchalant, diffident air, gave her a winning smile that was charming enough to be not quite a leer and leaned toward her, nudging himself into her personal space. “I'm Tyler.”
    Elise took his outstretched hand. He had bronze skin and blond hair that said he spent a lot of time outdoors—or with a spray tan kit and hair bleach. She shook his hand firmly. He held it for longer than was really necessary, letting go only when Noah shot him a glare.
    “Nice to meet you,” she said, slipping her hand back into Noah's pointedly.
    The introductions went around the table. She tried to assign everyone a memorable characteristic so she would remember their names later. She named Tyler The Playboy .
    There was Oliver, who wore glasses and had dark hair that curled at the nape of his neck. Elise recognized a kindred spirit. He had a bit of a bookish air about him. She called him The Nerd in her head.
    Next was Gabriel, whose brown hair was buzzed even shorter than Noah's. “I served with Noah in the Army,” he explained. Elise couldn't quite put her finger on it, but although he was perfectly friendly, there was something a little melancholy about him. Distant. She filed him under The Lost Ex-Soldier .
    “I'm Will,” said the last man, with a brief wave from the other side of the table. His voice was quiet, but it carried easily across the chatter. He and the only other woman in the room were sitting with their chairs close together at one end of the table. She wondered if they were together, but then reconsidered her assessment. They resembled each other, both with strong jaws and straight black hair, though the woman was curvy while Will was more slim.
    “And this is my sister Cam,” he added, jerking his head toward the woman in question while she was swallowing a bite.