“Ever?”
His lips turned down, and she could see how the no-smiling rule was well followed.
“Youdon’t smile,” she said.
He stopped pruning so abruptly that Abby almost ran right into him. “No?”
Shaking her head, she looked at his face and mirrored his frown before saying a purse-lipped, “Non,” in imitation of his accent.
And there, miracle of miracles, the man did it. His lips curved up. Or almost. One side of his mouth lifted—the side with the scar—and, oh goodness, itwasa dimple. What kind of trick was it that this big, burly man had to suffer through the indignity of a dimple? And much, much worse was her having to suffer through that smile.
She wanted to touch it, the divot in his cheek. Or those lips, or that thick, rough-looking neck, which was more cleanly shaven than the first time she’d come here.
Did he do that for me?she wondered as she turned away, reaching for…anything to stop herself. Branches. Those would do. Pull, throw, wait—red face averted—and move on.
They’d finished the row without speaking and moved on to the next by the time Abby could breathe normally. Surprise, surprise, he was the one to finally break the silence.
“Besides no cap, what else do you wish for?”
She didn’t hesitate before saying, “A place of my own.”
“Yes?”
“Nothing big, just a…a room. Where I could listen to music, maybe?”
“You can’t do that there?”
“Oh, we sing all right. Best part of the Church is the singing.”
“What do you sing?”
“Hymns.”
“I don’t know any.”
Without thinking it through, she sang a verse from one of her favorites. “All things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small, all things wise and wonderful: the Lord God made them all.”
When she met his eye, Luc was…not exactly smiling, but close. His eyes were warm, his expression…admiring, maybe? Abby blushed with the realization of what she’d just done.
He said one word: “Pretty.” But something about the way he said it, his eyes eating up her face, made her cheeks burn hotter and breath come faster. To hide it, she turned quickly back to work.
Changing the topic, she cleared her throat and asked, “So, how much is a place to rent?”
“What?”
“A room to live in. How much money do I need for that?”
He shrugged. “Depends. Big cities, it’s a lot, I think. Around here? I don’t know. Maybe a few hundred a month?”
“Good Lord, that’s a lot.”
“Life is expensive.” He shrugged and cut, the movement lifting shoulders massive enough to carry the weight of the world.
“Right. So…you have to pay for food, right? And what else do you pay for?”
“Electricity. Um, water and gas, things like that.”
“Gas for the car?”
