The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks Read Free Book Online Page B

around?”
    “No, go ahead. I did some shopping earlier, and I still have to put the groceries away.”
    Their eyes met for a second, and Allie knew as she turned that he continued to watch her as she left the room. Inside she felt that little twitch again.
    She toured the house for the next few minutes, walking through the rooms, noticing how wonderful it looked. By the time she’d finished, it was hard to remember how run-down it had been. She came down the stairs, turned toward the kitchen, and saw his profile. For a second he looked like a young man of seventeen again, and it made her pause a split second before going on. Damn, she thought, get a hold of yourself. Remember that you’re engaged now.
    He was standing by the counter, a couple of cabinet doors open wide, empty grocery bags on the floor, whistling quietly. He smiled at her before putting a few more cans into one of the cabinets. She stopped a few feet from him and leaned against the counter, one leg over the other. She shook her head, amazed at how much he had done.
    “It’s unbelievable, Noah. How long did the restoration take?”
    He looked up from the last bag he was unpacking. “Almost a year.”
    “Did you do it yourself?”
    He laughed under his breath. “No. I always thought I would when I was young, and I started that way. But it was just too much. It would have taken years, and so I ended up hiring some people . . . actually a lot of people. But even with them, it was still a lot of work, and most of the time I didn’t stop until past midnight.”
    “Why’d you work so hard?”
    Ghosts, he wanted to say, but didn’t.
    “I don’t know. Just wanted to finish, I guess. Do you want anything to drink before I start dinner?”
    “What do you have?”
    “Not much, really. Beer, tea, coffee.”
    “Tea sounds good.”
    He gathered the grocery bags and put them away, then walked to a small room off the kitchen before returning with a box of tea. He pulled out a couple of teabags and set them by the stove, then filled the teapot. After putting it on the burner, he lit a match, and she heard the sound of flames as they came to life.
    “It’ll be just a minute,” he said. “This stove heats up pretty quick.”
    “That’s fine.”
    When the teapot whistled, he poured two cups and handed one to her.
    She smiled and took a sip, then motioned toward the window. “I’ll bet the kitchen is beautiful when the morning light shines in.”
    He nodded. “It is. I had larger windows put in on this side of the house for just that reason. Even in the bedrooms upstairs.”
    “I’m sure your guests enjoy that. Unless of course they want to sleep late.”
    “Actually, I haven’t had any guests stay over yet. Since my daddy passed on, I don’t really know who to invite.”
    By his tone, she knew he was just making conversation. Yet for some reason it made her feel . . . lonely. He seemed to realize how she was feeling, but before she could dwell on it, he changed the subject.
    “I’m going to get the crabs in to marinate for a few minutes before I steam ’em,” he said, putting his cup on the counter. He went to the cupboard and removed a large pot with a steamer and lid. He brought the pot to the sink, added water, then carried it to the stove.
    “Can I give you a hand with something?”
    He answered over his shoulder. “Sure. How about cutting up some vegetables for the fryer. There’s plenty in the icebox, and you can find a bowl over there.”
    He motioned to the cabinet near the sink, and she took another sip of tea before setting her cup on the counter and retrieving the bowl. She carried it to the icebox and found some okra, zucchini, onions, and carrots on the bottom shelf. Noah joined her in front of the open door, and she moved to make room for him. She could smell him as he stood next to her— clean, familiar, distinctive—and felt his arm brush against her as he leaned over and reached inside. He removed a beer and a bottle of hot