“Slow,” I replied, not looking up as I finished organizing the last of my notes, forcing my focus onto something other than the direction my thoughts were already drifting at the idea of seeing Kara tonight. “Thankfully, there wasn’t much stress to absorb today. Mostly routine work. Sore shoulders. Misaligned spines—”
“So just muscles and happyclients.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And yet,” she continued, and I looked up to find her folding her arms, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, “you look like you’re in a hurry to run right out of here.”
I rolled my eyes, because of course she already knew. There was no hiding anything from Mina. Trying always proved pointless.
“So,” she pressed, tilting her head slightly, clearly enjoying this far too much, “where are you off to that has you moving in such a hurry? Let me guess... back to Kara’s?”
“Yes,” I said, the word coming out more resigned than I intended, because I could already see the conclusion she was building in her mind, one I had no intention of confirming. “To help with more of the repairs,” I added, more firmly this time, as if confidence alone might make it believable.
She didn’t even attempt to hide her satisfaction. “I thought so. Well,” she continued, completely undeterred, “from the number of hours you’ve been spending there, I assume the cottage is in much better shape by now.”
It was, and that was the problem. My work there was nearly finished, and once I handled the last few minor repairs, there would be no reason left for me to return—no logical excuse to keep spending my evenings at her place.
Which meant...
I stilled for half a second, the realization settling in, because I knew exactly what it meant. When the project was done, that would be it. I wouldn’t have a reason to go back. And unless she took me up on that second session I had offered, there would be no clear reason for us to keep seeing each other at all.
And that thought didn’t sit well with me.
“It’s in better shape,” I said evenly, setting my notes aside and finally standing, “but there’s still more to be done. And I intend to finish what I started. That’s all.”
Mina made a soft, entirely unconvinced sound. “Right. Of course.”
“She clearly doesn’t know what she’s doing,” I continued, ignoring her tone entirely. “You didn’t see the state that place was in. If I hadn’t stepped in, it would have collapsed on top of her, and then I would have lost a paying client.”
“Mm-hmm,” Mina said, nodding slowly. “Can’t go losing a client now, can we?”
I narrowed my eyes slightly. “Mina.”
“Fine,” she said, dragging the word out just enough to make it irritating. “Whatever you say.”
I moved past her, grabbing my coat, determined to end this conversation before it spiraled any further.
“Just make sure you bring at least eight condoms,” she called after me.
“Mina,” I scolded, like a disappointed parent, because if even she could sense this thing between me and Kara, then Kara had to know too, and I didn’t need that awkward tension settling between us, not if it meant ruining our plans for the evening, which were fixing the closet door in her bedroom. Theonlyactivity that would be taking place in her bedroom. Though, as I started to imagine it, I felt my pants grow uncomfortably tight.
“What?” she said, completely unbothered. “I’m just looking out for you.”
“It is not like that.”
“It’s not my business,” she replied, already turning toward the door. “I’m just saying, preparation is key.”
“Mina.”
She waved a hand over her shoulder, dismissing me entirely as she walked out. “Have fun.”
THE WALK THROUGH TOWNwas peaceful as I headed toward the hardware store for a few supplies, but just as I reached the storefront of The Rusted Anchor Hardware, that same pesky thought crept back in. The project was almost done, which meantwewere almost done, and a few weeks ago, that would have been ideal. I liked my peace and my solitude. I liked not having to think about anyone but myself. Now, though, nothing about it felt peaceful, because I didn’t want our time together to be over.
I lingered outside the shop, my hand hovering near the door without actually pushing it open. Because as much as I told myself this had always been about the house, about the obvious safety issues and her complete lack of experience with even the most basic repairs, that wasn’t entirely true anymore. I was enjoying her company. Her ridiculous jokes that barely made sense half the time. The way she insisted on helping, even when she was objectively making things worse. Even the poker lessons she’d forced on me, which I had initially endured more than enjoyed, had become something I looked forward to, and I wasn’t ready to leave any of it behind.
Unless...what if I didn’t finish it? Not yet, anyway. Maybe I got off work too late and the store was already closed. Or maybe they didn’t have what I needed and had to order it, something that wouldconvenientlytake a few days to arrive. But that idea fell apart just as quickly, because why would I still need to show up tonight then?
If I was going to stick with this hardware store excuse, I needed a better reason to be at her house, and then it came to me.Food.
