She folds her arms over her chest. "It looks like there's a woman's touch. I don't believe a big-ass military guy like you would bother to decorate their home in matching duck-egg green."
I raise my eyebrows at her. "Until three days ago, I had no idea duck-egg was a color." I shrug. "My sister decorated."
"Thought so." Relief flashes across Alana's face, and I store that information for later. She's relived it was Avery who helped and not some other woman.
Alana takes a clipboard out of her oversized purse.
"You've got a checklist?"
"I do." She pulls out a pen and marks something off on the paper.
My right eyebrow shoots up. I thought this was a friendly inspection, but she's taking it seriously. "What are you marking me on?"
She holds out the clipboard. "We use this to assess foster homes. We've got to be sure basic standards are met, that there's electricity, running water, no guns."
"I've turned over all my military gear, and I'm storing my hunting gun with my parents."
"Your parents have guns?" She frowns and looks down at her paper.
"There's a locked gun cabinet in the attic that can only be reached by the pull downstairs. The military teaches you respect for firearms."
She looks at me appraisingly. "Good to know."
She peers down at her clipboard and the crease on her brow, just visible above her glasses, makes her look like a schoolteacher.
"If you want to hear more about the military, I can tell you over a drink sometime?"
She glances up, and her eyes meet mine. There's a flicker of something before she schools her features into a blank expression.
"I'm not going for a drink with you, Amos."
"But you want to." I take a step closer, and she doesn't back away. Her breathing gets heavy, and her eyes go wide.
"Admit it, Alana. There's an attraction between us. In my experience, that doesn't happen often. Why wouldn't you want to explore it? And don't give me the crap that it’s because you're Sam's caseworker. In another few days, Sam will be settled here, and we'll have nothing to do with each other. So why not make a date a week from now?"
I lean toward her with my gaze on her lips. She brings a hand up between us, and her fingertips rest on my chest. She hesitates. Her lips part, and one finger presses into my hard chest. Then she closes her eyes and brings the clipboard up between us.
"In a week's time, you'll understand."
She steps back, and the moment is gone. Any rapport I'd built up is knocked down as her tone turns clipped and professional. "Is this the bedroom?"
I run a hand through my hair. I've never had difficulty picking up women, but then I've never felt like this about a woman before, which means I can be patient.
Perhaps she's right; I should be focused on Sam. But the military taught me to take action and never to miss an opportunity. Although maybe you can't apply military tactics to dating.
"Yeah. Avery helped decorate this one too."
I flick a switch by the door, and the fairy lights flash on. They give off a soft light that reflects against the freshly painted white walls. A nightlight by the bed spins slowly, making light patterns dance on the walls. A decal racetrack takes up one wall with the cars stuck on as if they're racing. A large squishy toy that I can't identify as any animal sits on the bed on top of the racing car comforter.
"She did a great job."
I grin at the delight on Alana's face. I'm glad she likes it, but there's only one person whose opinion really matters.
"Do you think Sam will like it?"
Alana turns her smile on me. "I'm sure he will."
I sag against the doorframe in relief.
