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wondered how many batches of cookies she could bake at once. Her Le Creuset Dutch oven would be right at home here too. It was quite a contrast to the hot plate and the small countertop convection oven in her mother-in-law apartment.
    A round wooden table and chairs flanked by windows on all sides sat on a colorful area rug behind her. She ran her fingertips lovingly over the quartz countertop on the island and let out a sigh.
    â€œWhat do you think?” Kyle said.
    â€œIt’s incredible. I wouldn’t want to leave the kitchen at all.”
    â€œYou haven’t seen the upstairs yet,” he teased.
    â€œI think I’m afraid to. If it’s as perfect as this is, I won’t want to go home.”
    He put the grocery bags on the island. “I have a couple of guest rooms, you know. We could work something out.”
    She glanced up at him in surprise. She did her best to keep her voice light.
    â€œYou’re funny.”
    â€œI don’t know how to cook; you do . . . It could work out well for both of us,” he said. “I’m a very appreciative eater.” He grabbed a pound of butter out of the bag and crossed to the refrigerator to put it away. “So, tell me about your place. Actually, maybe we should start with why you moved to Noel.” He turned to face her once more. “Want a beer?”
    â€œYes, please,” she said. She reached into one of the grocery bags and started removing items. “I can help get the stuff put away, and we can talk a little more. It’ll be fun.”
    She heard a few seconds of Jessie J’s “Price Tag.” He reached into his pocket, grabbed his cell phone, and frowned at the screen.
    â€œI’m really sorry, but I need to take this. It’s my agent.” He hit the speaker function. “Hey, Bruce.”
    â€œKyle. It’s a relief to hear you’re okay. What’s going on there?”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œYou might want to call your family. They’ve hired a private investigator to find you. They claim they haven’t heard from you for three weeks. Is there something wrong? How can I help? I know some guys have trouble during the off-season . . . ”
    â€œI’m fine. Everything is great.” Kyle blew out a breath. He hadn’t called home in two weeks, but he’d responded to texts from his parents during that time. “Would you please call them back and tell them I will be in contact soon?”
    â€œI’m not sure they’re going to accept that from me, man. They think that something’s wrong, and they need to see you to verify that you are safe.”
    Sophie watched the color spread up Kyle’s neck and into his face. “I can see I’m going to have to explain. To make a long story short, my family and friends are bleeding me dry financially. I’ve had enough.”
    â€œYou’re not the first client I’ve heard that from,” Bruce said.
    â€œI realize that,” Kyle said. His voice was dry as dust. “I would prefer to have no contact with them for a few more weeks while I finish the arrangements I’ve made to protect myself.” Kyle shook his head at the phone. “I understand you probably don’t want to be involved here, but I would appreciate your help.”
    â€œToday’s kinda rugged for me. Could you send them a text?”
    Sophie saw Kyle close his eyes and pantomime banging his forehead on the kitchen island.
    â€œWhy don’t you give me the number of the private investigator who called you, and I’ll call him or her instead?”
    â€œSure.”
    Sophie gathered up the items that needed refrigeration and crossed the kitchen while Kyle told his agent he’d talk to him later and hung up. She pulled the package of prime rib out to rest on the counter before getting it ready to go into the oven. She turned to Kyle, clasping her hands in front of her.
    â€œSorry,” he