She couldn’t tell, but together they finished drying the floor, and he insisted on carrying the dirty towels and the toolbox, which he did with ease.
“I’m going to go change,” he said after they’d finished putting everything away or in the laundry.
“Can I wash those…” She glanced at his expensive sweater.
“I have a dry cleaning pickup tomorrow,” he told her. “It’s all good. Mind if I choose the restaurant?”
She smiled. “Of course. But don’t go over?—”
He held up his hand. “Trust me.”
With that, he gave a nod and headed back outside into the cold, leaving her standing there with his words reverberating as loudly as the washer she’d just started.
Trust me?
Could she? Maybe she’d find out tomorrow night.
Snow had fallen overnight, so Gracie was grateful her bakery van had all-wheel drive as she pulled out from Snowberry Lodge to take Benny to his second day of camp.
Benny was busy trying to hold Sir Isaac Newton, who thought the vehicle was his personal playground. From the console, the scent of coffee from her travel mug tempted her, mixing with the lingering sweetness from the cake she’d delivered yesterday.
“Sit, Sir Isaac Newton. Sit.” Benny pushed at the dog’s backside, but ol’ Newt just tried to climb into the front, stopped by the short leash attached to the seatbelt buckle. “Come on, doggo! You have to start listening to my commands.”
“He will do better at camp when you have treats for him.”
“Too many treats aren’t good for his liver,” he told her with a voice of authority she rarely questioned. “I need a better way to make him listen. I did all the research last night—thank you for letting me use Grandpa’s phone, by the way.”
“Just follow the rules. Research only on approved sites.” She’d lost the battle to keep technology out of her little boy’s hands. Now, it was supervised on Red’s phone.
“I’m going to make him a whistle at forty thousand hertz,” Benny continued. “I can do it, too, with some plastic tubing and a bottle cap. Grandpa said he’ll help me.”
She looked up into the rearview mirror, not sure she could follow that. “Forty thousand…what?”
“Dog whistles work because they produce ultrasonic frequencies that we can’t hear, but dogs can. That’s going to be my secret weapon at the contest.”
“Secret…are you sure that’s allowed?”
He laughed. “Nobody can hear but the dogs. And Sir Isaac Newton’s whistle will be special because smaller dogs are more sensitive to slightly higher frequencies. I’ve got it all figured out, Mom.”
She had no doubt he did. “Is that what you and Grandpa were working on last night? I heard a lot of laughter and maybe somebody jumping up and down. Please tell me that was you. Or the dog. Not my grandfather.”
He snorted a laugh. “Grandpa slept mostly, which is what he always does.”
“He’s eighty-two, honey.”
“Well, he’s my best friend, so I wish he’d stay awake.”
Her heart twisted. Yes, Red Starling was a fantastic great-grandfather to her son, but he should not be Benny’s only friend. Despite asking him about friends at camp several times last night, Benny only talked about the dogs, the contest, and how awesome Sir Isaac Newton was. And how annoying Olivia Hampton was.
On a sigh, she adjusted the vent, fingers tightening around the wheel as she navigated the winding road that led toward Canine Canyon. The sky was pale gray, low clouds hanging like a lid over the mountains, which would be great for skiing, but not so much for driving back here this afternoon.
Her eyes flicked to the passenger seat. A small pink box with the Sugarfall logo sticker on top, closed over two delicious cream puffs she’d made before leaving work last night.
The question was, did she have the nerve to present them to tall, good-looking Marshall Hampton and maybe…suggest they get a coffee sometime?
She let out a soft grunt of nerves. Gracie was only confident when she was in the kitchen, elbow-deep in dough, or applying the delicate frosting artwork to a canvas of cake or pastry.
Asking a man out? Oh, that was so not in her wheelhouse.
