I happily gave him some fun details about the town.
He seemed to be specifically interested in our summers. He was an intense listener which was new for me. Most men—especially my brothers—tended to zone out. He asked smart questions and filled my notebook with his odd shorthand.
It was sexy as hell to see him in work mode.
His sharp silvery eyes locked on mine as he seemed to watch me for more subtle details about Haven.
I cleaned up since he cooked, glancing over at him hunched over the notebook. When I was done, I demanded his attention by tossing my T-shirt at him.
He looked up, his eyes unfocused.
I grabbed a marker out of my basket and waved it at him.
“Want to play connect the freckles?”
He shut the notebook and chased me down the hall.
The last condom definitely got used.
When morning came, I was alone. He left a note on the pillow next to me.
If you’re awake, I’ll pick you up at ten.
Need to shower and get dressed.
A
I slipped the note into my drawer. Silly, but I wanted a little proof that whatever it was we were doing was real. That he wouldn’t just disappear one day. He didn’t come out and say he was only here for the book, but it was definitely implied.
It was already after nine so I hopped out of bed and took a quick shower and got dressed.
The house was quiet, telling me Mouse probably followed him over to his cottage. He’d crept in late in the night and slept at the bottom of the bed to be by both of us.
I found a thermos of coffee waiting for me on the kitchen island, my French press cleaned and in the drainer.
It was interesting to see a man so neat. He seemed very lonely and contained.
The notebook was gone and I made a mental note to add a few to my next stationary order. Reminded of his journal, I grabbed my phone and found a few grid notebooks with slightly fancier paper and a fountain pen from my favorite shop.
I was adding chalk pens and sticks as I closed the front door behind me.
The day was sunny and the drip of snow melting off my copper awning made me think of spring. A seasoned Havenite, I had a few layers on. It was brisk, but the sun would heat the day up soon enough. Dutch’s truck rumbled down the winding lane, Mouse’s head already out the window.
He was already sunk when it came to the dog.
Our dog.
My palm itched at the thought. Something forward thinking already was probably dangerous, but with all that joy in his face I couldn’t let it darken this day.
I met them at the bottom of my driveway and ruffled Mouse’s ears. “Hey, bud. Shove over.” I hopped in and grinned at Dutch. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself.”
I shook the thermos at him. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“Your stash is definitely better than mine.”
I laughed. “Jenna orders it from her distributer. Only way I can get this stuff from Salem.”
