“Nice.” He toed off his boots and picked them up. “Did I mention that I like writing in bed?”
“You did, but we’re not handling this revision in your bed.”
“Spoilsport.”
“I’ll borrow a chair from the kitchen or we can move to the kitchen table. We’re keeping things professional.”
“It’ll be more comfortable on my bed and I’m more creative there.”
“I’m aware.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“We’d never make it through the scene.”
“We would, I promise. We’ll keep our clothes on until it’s done.”
“I don’t think that’s a?—”
“Ya should listen to Rance.” Granny pushed herself to a sitting position. “Knows what he’s doin’, he does.”
Lani burst out laughing. “Granny! Have you been playing possum?”
“I’ve never heard of that game, luv.”
“It’s an animal that’s good at playing dead,” Rance said. “I don’t think you have them in Ireland. How long have you been awake?”
“Not fer long. Woke up durin’ this interestin’ debate yer havin’. Musta drifted off comin’ home.” She peered at Rance. “Ya had to carry me in, didn’tcha?”
“It was my privilege.”
“Yer a good boy.” She glanced at the towels on the floor. “Jaysus! What’s that mess?”
“Fireplace ash. No worries. We’ll get ’em cleaned up. We put ash on the steps to make sure I didn’t slip on the ice.” He rolled the towels together and tucked them under his arm.
“Didn’t mean ta make trouble fer ya, lad.”
“I would sacrifice every towel in this cabin if it means keeping you safe.”
Her gaze softened. “I know ya would. Warms the cockles of m’heart, it does. Now go on with ya. Work on yer book.” She glanced at Lani. “He’ll keep his word, ya know. He always does.”
“I do and I will. Nothing happens until we’re satisfied with that scene. I wrote it in bed in the first place. It’s part of my process.” He delivered the explanation straight. No wink or sly grin.
Clearly he believed the revisions would go better if they sat propped up on his king-sized bed. And when they were done, well… they wouldn’t have to change venues, would they?
She was stirred up by the prospect, and judging from the gleam in his eyes, so was he. If he needed a certain setting for inspiration, who was she to argue? “Alrighty.” She slipped off her coat. “Trade you my coat for those towels. If you have a place I can put them to soak, I’ll?—”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Let her do it, lad. Ya need to get yer laptop goin’. Lani, use the big sink in the laundry. Tis off the kitchen.”
“Perfect.” She plucked the towels from under Rance’s arm and handed him her coat. “I’ll go get the others. See you in your bedroom in five minutes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Rance kept his rolltop desk closed out of habit. He tended to write random bits about his story on slips of paper. He hadn’t wanted anyone to see those scattered notes in case they’d guess what he was up to.
Didn’t matter anymore. After sliding back the cover to take out his laptop, he left it open and headed for his bedroom.
