Adorable.
Yeah, he knew he was a man’s man and a tough guy and a wrangler on top of that, but the word “adorable” kept popping into his head when she was around.
He decided not to fight it because that would take a lot more energy than he had to give right now. Also, it was nice not to have to police himself around her. If he wanted to call her adorable in his head, he did. If he wanted to hold her hand as they walked to the convenience store, he did. If he wanted to kiss her hair, he did.
If he wanted to kiss her?
He did all that he could to hold back and so far managed to stop himself.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss her. Oh no. It was the fact that kissing her came with a promise. At least, for him, it would. He knew enough about himself to know that he couldn’t kiss and leave. Not her.
And he knew enough about himself to know that he couldn’t promise forever.
He lay awake last night trying to picture his life back home with her in it. He moved pieces around, shifted his thoughts, and heaved some pride aside and still had a hard time.
You know why? Because she came with a grandma and a reindeer.
The reindeer was no problem. Felix could sleep on his wrap-around porch all day long and he wouldn’t care. What was another reindeer on a ranch with 350 heads? Easy–that’s what.
Hannah wouldn’t be all that hard, either. He’d build her a small home on his lot, and she could knit or garden or whatever she wanted to do all the live-long day. Heck, he’d even build a coop for their chickens. They wouldn’t be the only couple on the ranch with a flock. So much of Clove’s life fit with his that it seemed like it should be an easy fit.
Everything worked — except the idea of her in his house.
Every inch of that cabin screamed “bachelor” from the leather furniture and bare walls to the couch without colorful cushions and his bed with only one pillow. Why did women think they needed twenty pillows, anyway? Did they sleep with all of them? If not, where did they put them at night? Who put them back on the bed? The whole thing was a headache he didn’t need.
“How many pillows do you have on your bed?” he asked.
Clove blinked in surprise. They’d been talking about pulling off a Christmas heist and he was thinking about her in his bedroom.
Maybe he should have leaned into the question instead of throwing it at her.
“Two. Why?”
See, that’s what he was talking about. Women had too many pillows. They cluttered things up and made extra work around the house. All that pillow lifting and arranging. “What’s the extra one for?”
She tipped her head to the side. “I put it against my back for support.”
“Huh.” That made more sense than he wanted it to. Maybe he needed an extra pillow so he didn’t wake up with lower back pain.
He shook his head at himself. Now she had him wanting more pillows.
What was next? Art on the walls? He shuddered.
“Back to the breakout.” She shoved his arm. “Do you think we should let your family know what we’re up to?”
He shook his head. “Like Hannah, the less they know, the better.”
She grimaced. “I just . . . feel like they could help. I don’t know. Is it bad to ask people to pray for you when you’re breaking the law?”
He laughed. Her mind worked over all sorts of angles he didn’t consider. “Probably. But I’m sure they’re praying for us anyway, so we don’t need to ask them to.”
“Right.” She nodded slowly, her eyes drifting to the front door of the bed-and-breakfast. “We should pack up so we can leave tonight.”
“What about Hannah?” He ran his hand around the steering wheel. This topic was a little tricky, and he needed to handle it with care.
“What about her?”
“Do you think we should send her home? Leave her here? Or take her with us?” The decision wasn’t really his to make alone. Whatever happened, having Hannah along would slow them down.
