Ron chuckles under his breath. “It’s a long story. I was in the FBI for most of my working years, and a lot of that time was spent traveling. This place, my home, my family, was my safe haven. When I retired, I knew I wanted to be able to provide that for people like you folks, so ever since then we help when we can. Sometimes the timing doesn’t work out, but we’ve helped quite a few people throughout the years.”
“Wow,” I breathe. “That’s amazing. Thank you so much. You’ve helped so many people.”
Ron shrugs. “It’s the least I could do.”
We continue to chat for a while, and when I look at the clock next, it’s nearly noon. Arson has been sitting at ourfeet the whole time, but I can tell he’s getting antsy to get outside and explore, so it’s probably time to head back.
Hannah also looks like she’s dead-on-her-feet exhausted. “I think it’s time we head back to the cottage, don’t you, freckles? We are still getting caught up on our rest.”
“Oh, of course,” Dottie tuts, rising to her feet and collecting our mugs. Hannah stands slowly, letting out a yawn as she does.
As we head to the front door, I remember part of the reason I wanted to chat with them in the first place. “Say, do you two need some help around the farm while we are here?”
Ron raises his brow. “No, no, we are fine,” he responds. “You should take this time to relax, spend time with your love.”
I shake my head. “I mean, I’m going to take advantage of the time with her, for sure,” I say, taking Hannah’s hand in mine and leaning down to kiss her temple. She tenses briefly, and I take note of that reaction before continuing, “but I also know it will be nice to put myself to work a bit. I can help with whatever you need. Cleaning stables, working on machines, handyman work, you name it. I like to be busy.”
“In that case, I may take you up on a few things,” Ron says with a chuckle, reaching out his palm to shake mine.
“My grandpa was a woodworker, so I grew up helping him in the shop. I’m good with my hands.” I raise my hand in a weird semi-jazz hand.
“Ooh, maybe Thomas can fix my jewelry box,” Dottie says, her voice raising in excitement.
“Absolutely,” I state. “My brother took over thebusiness, so he’d be better at it, but I can patch it up, no problem.”
“I would appreciate that,” she replies. Arson whines quietly at my feet, and I take that as our cue.
“We should probably head out before this one ruins your rug.” I gesture to the front door. “Thanks again. I’ll stop by tomorrow morning and get to work.”
They try to protest, but I wave them off as Hannah and I walk out the front door. Arson darts to the first tree he spots, relieving his bladder.
“They’re so nice,” Hannah mumbles as we get further from the house. Arson follows, running ahead of us on the gravel path toward our cottage.
“They are,” I agree. My hand is still entwined in hers, and I’m hesitant to let go. I love every second of contact that I can have with her, and the thought of letting go hurts. “Do you want to take a nap? I think I need another few hours of sleep before I can fully feel like a human again.”
Hannah nods. “Yeah, a nap sounds good.”
I decide to bring up the couch. “If you want, I can take the couch from now on. I should have done that in the first place, but I was too tired to think straight last night.”
Hannah’s blue eyes dart up to mine in an instant. “Why would you take the couch?”
“Because you would probably be more comfortable sleeping alone?” I think back to the way she tensed earlier in the kitchen. I didn’t mean to insinuate anything other than that I was excited to spend more time with her, one-on-one, but perhaps it came across differently.
She shakes her head. “Don’t be silly.”
A flush burns my skin. Oh, does that mean she likes the thought of sleeping by me? The real question is, do I push a little and flirt? Or do I be cordial andthank her?
What can I say? I’ve always been a bit of a flirt.
“Aww, freckles. Does that mean you liked snuggling with me last night?” I watch the blush creep up her freckled chest and feel the slight twitch in her palm.
She clears her throat. “It makes more sense to share the bed, that’s all.”
“Hmm,” I murmur. “We can kick Arson to the floor tonight. He’s a bed hog.”
That gets a chuckle and a smile out of her. “Yeah, he kinda is. He was plastered to my body all night.”
“I feel bad, because that’s how he usually is with me,” I say. “Ever since he was a puppy, he has been a velcro sleeper.”
