“Hi, Mr. Johnson,” Ben said. “Ms. Fox is showing me equivalent fractions. She really helped.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Sammy couldn’t take his eyes off Robin. Had she changed her hair in the last five minutes? Something was different, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “She’s good at that. She used to help me in math class all the time.”
“You did just fine all on your own in math,” Robin replied. “I just gave you a nudge once in a while. I hope you don’t mind me helping Ben. He came in looking for you, but I didn’t want you charging me a cupcake for time spent tutoring.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.
Oh, her teasing went straight to the cracked parts of his heart. He could see himself falling for her.
“I don’t mind at all. Just don’t be spilling my secrets. A man has to have some dignity.”
Ben looked from one of them to the other. A wide grin split his face, so different from the sullen looks Sammy was used to getting from him.
“Oh, secrets. You mean secrets like the time you gave a speech on cheerleading and almost broke your ankle demonstrating a high kick?” Robin propped her chin in her hand, her eyes innocent and wide. “Or that time you and Colleen nearly set the chemistry lab on fire? Are those the things I’m not supposed to tell Ben about?”
Speaking of lighting a fire, her spark was doing something combustible in him.
Ben laughed. “I like this lady, Mr. Johnson. You should keep her.” The kid was always full of great ideas. Just then Sammy caught Robin’s eyes. Green and deep. Yeah, he just might have to keep her.
Robin blinked, and her gaze shifted to his hand. “What do you have there?”
Oh. He was still holding the catalog. “I was flipping through this catalog. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Now who’s telling secrets?” She winked at Ben. “Now Ben knows that I spend my downtime drooling over kitchen appliances that I certainly can’t afford.”
The kid had the nerve to spread his hands wide and spar right back. “Don’t worry about it, Ms. F. We all got our little quirks. We won’t tell anyone about your crazy love for kitchen gear, will we, Mr. Johnson?”
“I think I can keep that one under wraps.” He watched Robin as she leafed through the catalog.
“You couldn’t have found this very stimulating,” she said, looking up at him. She looked back down and turned a few more pages. She must have landed on her dog-eared page, because the corner of her mouth quirked up.
Well, it wasn’t the catalog he found stimulating.
Yep, fixing up the floor at Fox Bakery was turning into the best decision he’d ever made.
six
A few days later, Robin stood in the lobby of Lena Larson’s veterinary clinic. The late-afternoon sun struggled to reach into the room, but Robin was grateful for its effort. The morning had been cloudy and gloomy, but after lunch the clouds had parted and a hint of blue sky had broken through.
She was looking forward to an hour away from the bakery and all thoughts of Sammy. She was grateful for his help and his friendship, but lately her feelings for him had become…jumbled. She needed space to get them back under control.
“Thanks for coming over,” Lena said. “I wanted to say welcome home, but I didn’t think I’d get down to the bakery anytime soon.”
“No problem. I’m glad I get to see your space.” Robin took off her jacket and hung it on a hook beneath a black-and-white framed photo of a kitten. Lena was dressed in scrubs, and with her straight brown hair pulled into a ponytail, she looked ready to face a pet health crisis at any moment. They’d been apart for the past ten years, aside from some phone calls and visits during the infrequent times when Robin was home. Though Lena was Robin’s brother Grayson’s age, she and Robin had always hit it off in school. And today, they were picking right up from where they’d left off.
“Let me show you around.” Lena led Robin into the back area, and Robin’s heels clicked on the tiled floor. “I have two exam rooms and a kennel area.”
“Pretty impressive. I like the green and gray color scheme.”
“It’s clean and simple. Which is perfect for me.” Lena opened the door to a kennel. “Do you mind if I check on Mischa while we chat?”
“Fine by me.”
Lena led a husky out of the kennel and then lifted it onto the exam table. “This is Mischa. She belongs to Nick Dahlquist. Do you remember the Dahlquists?”
“Lena, I’ve only been out of the area ten years. I didn’t forget everything about back home.”
Lena grabbed a pair of bright blue exam gloves from a box on the counter. “Well, Nick runs dogsleds now. Hey, you should talk to him about making dog treats at the bakery.”
“Dog treats? I don’t think so. Grandma would have a heart attack.”
