“Yep, here I am,” she said, glancing at Gavin. He’d talked about her with his dad?
Of course he did. You drove all the way from SeaTac together. It would have been weird not to mention it.
“Can you believe this snow?” asked Mr. McCreery. “Came out of nowhere!” Rowan worked to suppress a creeping smile of pride. “Inspector’s almost finished—thank God! Because no one dressed for this. Some even less than others.” He directed a significant look Hayleigh’s way.
She did her best not to enjoy how miserable Hayleigh looked in the cold. For once, Rowan was not the most underdressed.
“What’s all this, then?” asked one of the Goshen Group reps, leaning in close to examine the food.
“I recommend the cookies,” said Gavin, taking a bite. “Rowan made them.”
The suits eyed the table. Hayleigh waved away the offer, but everyone else grabbed something. The inspector and the other two reps walked away with their treats, moving to the front of the building to speak in hushed tones.
“Can’t level it,” said one, “but a retrofit’s not out of the question.”
“Well, now, that is delicious,” said Dennis, talking loudly enough that Rowan could no longer eavesdrop on the others. “Apparently, you’re as good a cook as your mother.”
“False,” said Rowan, shaking her head. “It’s pretty much these cookies and fried eggs from me.”
“Funny how so many women today take pride in not being able to cook,” said Hayleigh. She fixed her eyes on Gavin. “That is not a problem I have.”
There was a pause in the conversation, as if the group expected Gavin to reply, but he only nodded in polite acknowledgment.
“I’m sure you’re a marvelous cook, my dear,” said Dennis, filling the silence. “I’m with Rowan, though. Good thing Gavin’s home—I’m finally eating well again.” He clapped a hand on Gavin’s back. “I sure miss Friday pizza night when this guy’s gone.”
“You cook?” asked Rowan, raising an eyebrow Gavin’s way.
He half smiled and shrugged. “I can do more than fry an egg. I can’t make sugar cookies like this, though.”
“Boy’s selling himself short,” said Dennis. For all that she didn’t like many things about Dennis, the way he oozed pride around his son was something she could find no fault in. Gavin basked in it, like he always had. They were a devoted son and father, that much was clear.
“Of course,” continued Dennis, eyeing his son. “When he takes over, his work hours might make it harder to get dinner on the table, but I doubt he’ll have a hard time finding a lady eager to take over kitchen duties for him.”
Rowan’s goodwill wilted straight back into nothing. Gavin was quiet, but his head turned away from his father, and she thought she detected a brief eye roll.
Dennis turned her way. “I’ll take a cup of cider.”
“Wassail,” corrected Gavin.
“What’s the difference?” asked Hayleigh, who watched as Rowan poured a steaming stream into a cup. The amber liquidovertook the crystalline snowflakes, coating the white paper interior and melting them instantly. Hayleigh couldn’t suppress the look of appreciation that passed over her face as wafting steam delivered the spicy scents her way.
“Magic,” said Gavin, exchanging a conspiratorial smile with Rowan.
Hayleigh studied him, seeming to consider whether he was joking.
“Come here a minute, Gavin,” said Dennis, gesturing him over to where the group of men had clustered in front of the building. “Need your opinion on something.”
Hayleigh was the only one left behind, standing across from Rowan, hands clasped at her front. The Goshen Group rep shivered, adjusting a piece of long blond hair from her face with a creamy gloved hand, and Rowan’s earlier appreciation of the woman’s discomfort reluctantly fell away.
They had been left here together, while the men went the other way.
“You sure you don’t want a cup of this?” asked Rowan, tapping the cider. “It’ll warm you up.”
Hayleigh fluttered unnaturally long lashes, mouth forming an O of surprise. Finally, she nodded. “Sure. Why not?”
Rowan reached out to pass a cup to Hayleigh’s outstretched hand, but she misjudged the moment of contact. The cup slipped from between their fingers and tumbled toward the plate of sugar cookies on the table below.
She opened her mouth and gasped, “No!” A rush of energy coursed through her body.
