Maybe there’s more to Noelle than her dad’s ever let on.
Maybe she’s got the same instinct he does—that ability to read a room, to sense things people would rather keep hidden.
She’s sharper than any of us gave her credit for so far, and it’s making me even more intrigued than before.
Grant lowers his glass finally, giving her a long, assessing look that manages to be both amused and a little impressed. “You’re not wrong. Now that I think about it, I do run a tight ship. Comes with the territory of owning a business though, I suppose.”
She claps her hands together in front of her. “I knew it.”
I grin, tipping my glass in her direction. “One down. What about Cal?”
In response, he raises a single brow.
That silent brand of confidence that doesn’t need words to make a point already prominent on his face.
Most people would fold under a look like that. Hell, I’ve seen even full-grown men have backed down from it, but Noelle doesn’t even blink.
She holds his gaze, chin tilted up just slightly, and something about that quiet defiance makes the corner of Cal’s mouth twitch. Barely, but it’s there.
Honestly, it impresses me all over again.
The room is quiet for a second before she breaks the silence with a soft hum, tilting her head like she’s still figuring him out. “You’ve got…soldier energy.”
His brow lifts a little higher, tone bone-dry when he echoes, “Soldier energy?”
“Yeah.” S gestures vaguely with her hand as though she’s painting the thought into the air. “Like…I don’t know. From the minute you walked through the door, I could tell you were assessing the whole room. Looking around for something not quite right. Or calculating all the exit routes.”
Cal’s expression doesn’t change much, but his eyes narrow just a fraction, curious now.
She keeps going, her voice picking up as she continues. “Is that something you always do? Because usually only trained soldiers do that. The whole ‘situational awareness’ thing.”
Her tone is casual, even a little teasing, but I can tell she’s not just shooting in the dark with what she’s guessing.
Most people look at Cal and see the surface: the quiet guy with the sharp jaw and that unnerving stillness that makes them second-guess their every move.
But she’s zeroed in on the truth buried under all that composure.
The discipline he carries like it’s been infused into his bone marrow.
Even retired, he still moves like a soldier.
Calm.
Controlled.
But always ready to jump at a moment’s notice.
Somehow, this girl who’s known us less than a day, has picked up on it before any of us have said a word.
I glance at Grant, and even he looks a little thrown.
Noelle trails off mid-thought, her confidence faltering as she catches herself.
The sudden quiet makes her voice catch.
She laughs awkwardly, brushing the back of her hand across her cheek. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to, anyway, you’ve just got that look, I guess is what I’m saying…”
Cal doesn’t react right away.
