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Lucinda smiled, soft and knowing. "Aw, honey… that's what every courtship is like. It's called the getting-to-know-you phase." She rolled over onto her back and pulled the covers up under her chin. "I'm beat. Thanks for not making me sleep on your crappy couch."

Claire smiled, but Lucinda's words echoed in her mind. Courtship. What an old-fashioned word. And yet… the idea that she and Noah might actually be courting—navigating something real, something normal—filled her with a quiet, unexpected wonder.

Noah shivered inside his jumper and pulled his woolly hat lower. The temperature had plummeted just in time for Christmas, and his brother had decided today was a perfect time to get out in the freezing weather. Tristan had landed a rush contract for a unique kitchen table and since Noah had a four-day weekend, he'd volunteered his woodworking skills. And time with his brother was always well spent. This morning, they were scouting for ideas and materials at a local craft and antique fair. Each booth displayed wares ranging from smaller decorative items to large furniture. Unearthing hidden treasures took time and patience, and Noah's youngest brother had come up with amazing finds over the years.

"Noah," Tristan called. "Check this out."

Noah strolled over to the temporary shop the artist had set up. Tristan was inspecting a dining table with the top carved out of an enormous tree trunk. The table's legs were made from petrified tree roots.

"You're doing a round table?" Noah asked.

"No, he wanted an eight-foot-long table, but I like the artistry on this one. Also, that tree was damn big."

Noah looked around while Tristan inspected the underside of the table and spoke to the artist about the materials used. He spotted a long table at the back and made his way over. This table's base was a single tree stump and Noah was considering pushing on one end to test the balance when Tristan walked up beside him.

"Ha! This guy never had teenage boys."

They looked at each other and laughed at the shared memory of a disaster at a friend's house where the Raines brothers tested the kitchen table to see if it would hold their weight. His friend had declared his mom had the strongest table in the world, which, of course, threw down the gauntlet to put the claim to the test. In the end, the Raines boys were right, but all kids involved cleaned up a righteous mess afterward. And Oliver Raines put his sons to work to pay for the damage done.

"I'm not really seeing anything inspiring here."

"Wasted trip?" Noah asked.

"Nah. I've seen examples of what I don't want, so that helps clarify the big concept. And I've gotten a couple of design ideas for the detailing. Let's head over to Arlo's and find some wood."

As they were leaving, a pretty little stand with detailed carvings caught Noah's eye and he wandered over to inspect it. The description card labeled it a 1960s-era folding pie stand, and he immediately thought of Claire. He hadn't seen anything like this in the video tour she'd given of her apartment, but thought it might come in handy with all the baking she did. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few photos.

"What'd you find?" Tristan shoved his hands in his pockets and squinted at the card. "A pie rack? For Mum?"

"For Claire. Her kitchen is serviceable, but not large, and this folding design would let her store the rack away when not in use." He was already cataloging the materials he'd need and which machines he'd use at Tristan's workshop to do the carving work. "This piece is beautiful, but I don't think she's into all the intricate detail. Her stuff is more modern and sleeker."

"So, not just a coworker then."

It took a moment for Tristan's statement to penetrate the mental math working in his head, trying to plan the piece. Noah glanced up sharply and met his gaze.

"Yeah, I didn't think so." Tristan pointed out the swivel piece at the bottom, allowing the shelves to fold flat and offered suggestions to modernize the design. After a few more photos, they moved on. Noah gave it five minutes—ten at the most—before his brother would start in on Claire.

"Claire, huh?" Noah clicked his seat belt into place and checked his watch. Seven minutes. "Pretty hair. Tiny. And charmingly sweet. And how about that Texas drawl?"

Noah ran his hands along his chin, letting the stubble from not shaving distract him from Tristan's query. Perhaps he'd grow a beard like Rowan's. Oh, who was he kidding? The rare times he'd let it grow, he'd hated it. For whatever reason, he preferred to be clean-shaven—or stubbly at the most. Memories of Claire touching his face slammed into him, and he sighed. Of course, it would be Tristan who made him face the truth. You'd think he and Connor would be tight given their closeness in age, but it had always been the charming, precocious baby brother who'd been able to see straight into Noah's heart. The one who now sat patiently waiting for a response. He sighed again.

Tristan wasn't going to let this go, so he might as well spill. He took a deep breath and opened the dam. "I can't stop thinking about her. Everything I see reminds me of her. And before you ask, yes, the chemistry is off the charts."

Tristan burst out laughing. "Oh, big brother, you didn't need to tell me that. You could practically see the air sizzle around the two of you at dinner that night. But since we're on the subject, how is the sex?"

Noah shifted in his seat and tugged on his gloves. "Don't know. We haven't gone there."

Tristan half-turned in the driver's seat and stared at Noah, his eyes so like his own drilling into him. "She's special."

"Yeah." Noah blew out a harsh breath. "Are we getting wood or not?" He pointed at the gearshift, indicating Tristan should get on with it.

After a few more seconds of his unrelenting stare, Tristan put the truck in gear and headed to the highway.

"What's your concern? Why the hesitation?" Noah groaned. Sometimes he swore Tristan had inherited his mother's fabled witchy powers. For being the baby of the group, he often came across as a wise old man who knew far more than he should.

"You know what happened with Julie. What a disaster it was." Noah twisted the knob for heat. Why was it so damn cold in this truck?

"Julie?" The surprise in Tristan's voice caught Noah off guard. "What's the correlation between Claire and Julie?"