By the time I finish with the kitchen cabinets, my arms are aching, and the water in the bucket looks like chocolate milk. I dump it in the sink, watching it swirl down the drain, then refill it with fresh water and soap.
The living room calls to me next.
I carry my supplies in there, setting them down near the bookshelf. This one’s going to take a while. Every book will need to be removed, the shelves wiped down, the books dusted, then everything put back.
Perfect. That should keep me occupied for a while.
I pull out the first stack of books, setting them gently on the coffee table. They’re mostly romance novels with well-worn spines. Luna must have loved to read.
I’m halfway through the second shelf when I hear Grim’s voice from somewhere in the house, talking to Falkor. I can’t make out the words.
The hammering starts up again, closer this time. He must have moved to the living room doorway or the nearby hallway.
I keep my back to the sound, methodically wiping down each book before setting it aside. I will not look. I will not turn around. I will not—
“Are you doing okay, Wren?”
I jump, nearly dropping the book in my hands. Grim is standing in the doorway, hammer in hand, a light sheen of sweaton his forehead. His T-shirt is pulled tight over his body. His hair is in a messy knot at the back of his head.
I want to climb him like a pole and lick every—
I’m gaping at him again. My usual MO. I need to stop doing that.
“Um…all good,” I manage, proud of how steady my voice sounds. “You?”
He grunts something that sounds like a yes. “I’m moving to the back bedroom. Going to fix that window that won’t close properly. Just in case you need me.” His eyes are unreadable.
I love and hate how he checks in on me every so often. It’s sweet. I wish he wouldn’t.
“Okay…thanks. I’ll be here a while.” I look at the overcrowded bookshelf before looking back at him.
We stare at each other for a beat too long. My mouth goes dry.
“Right.” He shifts his weight. “I’ll just… I’ll be in there if you need me.” He points with his hammer.
Then he turns and walks away, and I release a breath that sounds embarrassingly shaky.
Get it together, Wren.
I go back to my books with renewed determination. By the time Falkor finds me, I’ve finished the entire bookshelf and moved on to dusting the mantel.
“Oh, dear girl,” Falkor says, appearing in the doorway with that warm smile of his. “You’ve been working so hard.”
I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s nearly three in the afternoon, which is good.
“It’s no problem at all,” I tell him, setting down my cloth. “You have a lovely home.”
He chuckles. “You’re very kind to say so. I know it’s gotten away from me over the last year or two.” He clasps his handstogether. “I was thinking I might run to the store. Pick up a few things for dinner. Is there anything you’d like?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” I smile at him. “And Falkor, I want you to know that once I have access to my accounts again, I’ll pay you back for everything. For the food, for putting us up, all of it.”
“Nonsense.” He waves a hand. “You’re my guests. Guests shouldn’t have to pay for anything. Besides, if anyone should be paying, it’s me. You and Grim have done more work in one morning than I’ve managed in a year. I’m going to get us something special. I might even splurge on a bottle of wine.”
“Please don’t go to any trouble. We’re happy to help,” I assure him. “Really.”
“Well, I appreciate it more than you know.” He pats my shoulder gently. “I’ll be back in about an hour. There’s fresh lemonade in the fridge if you get thirsty.”
“Thank you.”
