“You don’t have to—”
“I will,” he stated, his tone final, and he reached for one of her bags and started loading things into it.
A few minutes later, holding several bulging bags each, they left the field and headed down the high street to the post office shop. The sun was still high above, but a slight chill had entered the air and a few dark clouds scudded across the pale blue sky.
“At least it didn’t rain,” Claire remarked as Dan unlocked the front door of the shop and then held the door for her to squeeze past him inside.
For some reason, as she was sucking in her stomach to move past him in the narrow doorway, she remembered Lucy’s kindly teasing and felt a prickly heat sweep over her.
It was utterly absurd to think of Dan that way. For one, she was still a bit intimidated of him. And two, he seemed like the least romantic person she had ever encountered. She glanced at him as he took the bags into the back of the shop. He wore his usual black T-shirt and dark jeans that emphasized his massive biceps and body like an oak tree. His dark hair was buzzed short, his face clean-shaven and unexpressive. She supposed he was handsome, in a massive, intimidating way. He was certainly strong.
“I’ll rinse these jars out in the kitchen first,” he called over his shoulder, and she realized she was staring.
“Okay.” She followed him back, intending to help, but the kitchen was barely big enough for both of them. Bunny scampered under the table.
“Hey, Bunny.” She crouched down to stroke the trembling dog’s silky head while Dan unloaded the jars onto the counter by the sink. “What do you think happened to her?” she asked.
“She belonged to an old lady, and when she died a relative took her and left her out on the M6.”
“Oh, that’s horrible,” Claire exclaimed.
Dan nodded grimly. “She was half her normal weight too. I could see all her ribs.”
“Do you think she’ll ever stop being afraid?”
Bunny had submitted to Claire’s gentle stroking, but she still trembled.
“In time. I’ve only had her a year.” He glanced down at the dog, his face softening. “She was loved for a long while. It hasn’t all been bad for her.”
Claire straightened, her shoulder brushing Dan’s. “It was kind of you to take her on.”
He shrugged so his shoulder brushed hers back. “I wanted company.” He turned back to the sink and started rinsing out the jars. Claire watched and then took one as he handed it to her, drying it with the dish towel that had been hanging on the stove’s rail.
They worked in silence for a few minutes and when the jars were clean and dry Dan jerked his head back towards the shop.
“We should go back in.” He’d left the door to the kitchen open so they could hear if anyone came into the shop, but even so Claire knew he didn’t like leaving it empty for long.
She followed him out of the kitchen. “What do you want me to do now?” She still had an hour left of her shift.
“I think you’ve earned a break,” Dan answered as he took his place behind the till. “You can go home.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice, and Dan glanced at her.
“Don’t you want to?”
“Well, there’s nothing much for me at home besides a lot of empty rooms with carpets I’m afraid to walk on.”
“Seriously?”
“And pillows I don’t want to crumple. My mother keeps her house very neat.”
“But your mother isn’t here, is she?”
“No, thank goodness.” Claire pretended to shudder, although she wasn’t actually sure how much she was pretending. The thought of Marie West descending on the little life she’d built here was terrifying.
“Well, you can stay if you want,” Dan said with a shrug. He sounded indifferent to the idea. “And start filling those jars with sweets, if you want something to do.”
“Okay,” Claire said, and with a ridiculous smile on her face, she headed back to his kitchen to get the jars.
