Stone marveled at her. “I think it’s my turn to ask why you’re being so nice to me.”
She grinned. “Turnabout’s fair play.”
“I don’t quite think that’s what the phrase meant.”
She shrugged with that quirky smile he loved.
The instinct to kiss her was crazy powerful. “I’m running into town for some things.”
“Oh.” Her smile faded and she turned back to the laptop.
“Why don’t you come with me?” Stupid idea, Metcalfe. She could be seen, exposed.
Maybe, but it was a small town. He knew the people and they knew him???—as Jackson Mulroney, granted. But he should be able to suss out if there was trouble.
She was on her feet, her excitement all too apparent. “Ready.” Clearly she wasn’t going to give him a chance to change his mind.
“Grab a hat,” he instructed, pointing to the closet. “Something to shield your eyes.”
Complying, she dug out a Coast Guard ballcap and threaded her ponytail through the back hole.
Man, she looked good in that. He grunted.
“What? I think they’re underrated.”
“Don’t let Canyon hear you say that.” He motioned her toward the door. “C’mon.”
They headed into town with Grief, who trotted along with them??—the benefits of small-town favor. Everyone knew the beast and loved him.
“First stop??—the bakery.”
Brighton followed him into the shop, but Grief waited outside, knowing he’d get a dog cookie. “Thought you didn’t eat sweets.”
“I don’t,” he said, stepping up to the counter. “A dozen assorted donuts and a half dozen jam tarts.”
“And a cookie for Grief?”
“Of course.”
Brighton wrinkled her brow at him.
“Did you want something?”
“No,” but then she hesitated. “Actually??—”
“Boston crème,” they said together.
Stone grinned, but realized he probably shouldn’t.
The worker added one to the box and checked them out. As they left, he handed her the Boston crème, tossed Grief his cookie, then snagged a chocolate glazed for himself. He tucked the box with the rest in the truck and started down the sidewalk.
Pulling the donut apart, the gooey middle stretching between her fingers, she eyed the truck. “Who are all those for?”
“Donuts for the staff, tarts for my mom. The move to the lodge has been tough on her, so I wanted to do something nice to cheer her up.”
Brighton smiled, and it twisted up his insides in a different way. “Was it recent, her move?” She plucked a piece of pastry and ate it.
“Same day you showed up.”
