Page 137 of Small Town, Big Storm

Then promptly moan.

I don’t know where the man learned to cook, but I’m damned glad for it.

Even my Kitchen Sink—which is basically a dump meal of canned beans, tomatoes, corn, Mexican seasoning, ground beef, and plenty of sour cream and cheddar cheese (basically a kickass chili with random things from my pantry) can’t compare to the things the man can whip up in my mediocre kitchen.

Grinning at his precise instructions he left on how to reheat everything, I set about that then sit down on the couch and eat while streaming a show I’m very behind on.

The episode is great and my uninterruptedEverythingShower complete with a full hair wash, shaving and exfoliating and giving myself a facial, is even better.

And easy, considering that Storm also left me a cast cover to use in place of the garbage bag I’ve been wrapping around my cast over the last couple of days.

Much easier for basic hygiene.

Much easier to linger and soak and relax.

But by the time I finish drying my hair and putting on my makeup, I’m missing my little girl.

And Storm.

Grinning at my reflection, I throw on a pair of jeans and a tee, tie up my sneakers.

Then I’m walking over to the Harrison house.

Grins greet me along the way—as do honks from Gerald and company—but I make it over to Storm’s without being stopped by anyone, human or avian.

“Look, Mom!”Holly calls when I knock and let myself in.

She’s holding up an adorably tiny little hammer and is wearing a tool belt.

My heart.

“Uncle Rain showed me how to nail things.”

“Lots of things,” Rain teases.

Storm’s eyes dance as he walks over, presses a kiss to my lips.“I like to see you rested, Poppyseed.”

“It feels nice toberested.”I brush my fingers over his.“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

“Come see, Mom!”

I chuckle and dutifully check out her “work,” along the light fixtures they picked out, and they run me through a flurry of tile choices, marble samples, cabinet colors, and faucets that Storm, Rain, and Holly all selected.

“I think they’re awesome.”

“You like them, Mom?”

“I love them.I think this place is going to be gorgeous when it’s done.”I look around the space, already so much brighter and cleaner than it was mere weeks ago.“Rain,” I say softly.“You’re amazing.”

His eyes come to mine, warm and gentle.There’s something a little bit lighter about them.

As though some wound inside him is slowly healing too.

Whether that’s Holly or Storm or Riley—I bite back a smile—I don’t know.

“Are you going to join us for Monday night dinner?”I ask, relieved that the bar isn’t open tonight.Maybe I’ll gettwofull nights of sleep in a row.