“And think of it this way,” Cat added cheerfully. “I’ll ease you into a fun-loving lifestyle, and by the time I’m gone, Merry will be calling you Mr. Fun instead of Mr. No.”

Noah laughed. “I don’t see that happening,” he answered dryly.

“Never underestimate me, Noah,” Cat winked at him in the darkness.

“I find it hard to believe that anyone bothers doing that where you’re concerned.”

She grabbed him by the coat and kissed him. It escalated into wandering hands and whispered promises as the windows fogged around them.

“Come home with me,” he demanded breaking the kiss.

She shook her head. “You have Sara tonight,” Cat reminded him.

“Tomorrow then. I’ll meet you.”

Again, she shook her head, but this time there was a smile playing on her swollen lips. “Filming at the Hais’ all day. That is, if you guys managed to finish the treehouse.”

Noah proudly held up his paint splattered hands. “Done with the splinters to prove it.

“Poor baby.” Cat gave his palm a tender kiss.

He reached for her hand, placed his lips against her tattoo. Homage paid.

“I should go,” she said, and he heard the regret in her tone. “I have a lot of work to catch up on. I’ve been ignoring social media and emails and pretty much everything.”

“Maybe I can call you later?” he suggested.

“Maybe you can,” she agreed with the flirty smile that made him feel like he was a king.

She flipped that long honeyed blonde hair over her shoulder and smiled shyly at him as she opened the truck door. Catalina King looked at him like she had a school girl crush.

Noah watched her slip out of the truck then walked the rest of the way home with a spring in his step.

--------

“You’re acting weird again,” Sara frowned at him.

Noah stopped mid-whistle as he chopped fresh parsley.

“No, I’m not,” he insisted.

“Dad, you’ve been moping around here for two days, and now it’s all singing and whistling.” She eyed him from across the counter. “You’re acting like LauraBeth Fidowski when she and Tommy Bigelow get into a fight and make up.”

“LauraBeth is dating a sophomore?” Noah wasn’t a fan of this news.

Sara groaned. “Trust you to completely miss my point. You’re such a dad!”

Noah decided to take it as a compliment. “What was your point again?” Noah asked, shoveling up a mound of parsley and sprinkling it over top the two bowls of spicy tortilla soup.

“I’m wondering why you’re acting like an eighth grader who keeps breaking up with and getting back together with her tenth-grade boyfriend.”

“Hmm,” Noah hummed. He was starting to learn that his knee-jerk response didn’t get him very far with his daughter.