Saint paused in the hallway, looking at the cracked doorframes, the peeling paint. “You think Colonel really thought we’d do this?”
“Someone did,” I said, glancing at the faded note taped near the first bedroom door. My old CO’s handwriting.You’re still needed. Find a way.
I cleared my throat. “We’ll make it work.”
We set to work clearing one of the front bedrooms. The window overlooked the street, the library, the mountains rising in the distance like a promise we didn’t quite believe yet.
“Which room are you taking?” Saint asked.
I shrugged. “Don’t care.”
He snorted. “You say that, but you keep lingering front and center like you’re claiming this one.”
“I’m lingering near the best vantage point,” I corrected. “Security.”
“Uh-huh. Security.” He shoved a box toward the hall. “You know the Magnolia Ladies are already placing bets on which of us gets married first, right?”
“Not it,” I said automatically.
He laughed. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”
It was nearly noon by the time we cleared the room and started patching old nail holes. I’d just stepped back from the window to inspect a crack in the plaster when something moved in the corner of my eye.
I looked down.
Nora stood on the sidewalk just outside the tavern, a foil-covered plate in her hands, shoulders squared like she was about to charge a battlefield.
Saint followed my gaze. “Oh look. Courage in a pretty sweater.”
“Get out,” I said.
He grinned. “I live here now.”
I headed for the stairs anyway.
By the time I reached the bottom and crossed the dim interior, the front door opened and let in a rush of sunlight, cool air, and Nora.
She froze halfway over the threshold, eyes adjusting, cheeks faintly pink. Her hair had started to escape its knot, a loose strand brushing her jaw. She looked… nervous. Determined. Like someone who’d given herself a pep talk all the way across the street and wasn’t about to waste it.
I stepped forward. “Ma’am.”
Her lips twitched. “If you call me ‘ma’am’ again, I’m putting a donation box in here labeledSwear Jar for Sir and Ma’am.”
I blinked.
Trigger coughed to cover his laughter.
Saint straight-up choked.
Havoc’s mouth curved in the smallest hint of a smile.
Something warm unfurled low in my chest.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said deliberately.
Her eyes flashed. “You did that on purpose.”
“Maybe.”
