Page 97 of My Favorite Hero

“I meant to ask you if I could work in the garden.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “You’re asking permission?”

I glared at him, and he laughed.

“Of course you can.”

“And do you have a drill I could borrow?”

He looked concerned. “Maybe. Why?”

“I was thinking of building an herb garden box for the end of the deck. The sun would be perfect there, and it would look nice. I love fresh herbs.”

“You can buy them premade.”

“They’re not what I want.” I picked up a pen and quickly drew out my idea of a wraparound box. “Like that.”

He lifted his eyebrows as he studied it. “O…kay.” He looked at me. “Have you ever used a drill, Casey? A saw?”

“I’ve used a drill,” I scoffed. “I looked it up on YouTube. It seemed pretty simple. Measure, cut, fasten.”

He rolled his shoulders, looking amused. “It’s a bit more complex. How about I go to the hardware store and buy the stuff and build it for you?”

“I wanted to do it.”

“You can help,” he assured me. “You can come with me and pick the wood. Choose your herbs and dirt at the garden center they have. We can build it this afternoon.”

I pursed my lips.

“There are some complex cuts if you want it to wrap around the porch,” he explained. “I’m not entirely comfortable with you using an electric saw. You can assist me, though. Hold the wood, help me screw it together.”

“Is that a euphemism?”

He laughed. “Not in this case.”

“Can I stain it?”

“If you use cedar, not right away. If you go a different route, you could.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “I like cedar. It smells good.”

“It’s good for outdoor projects too. So we’ll go with that.”

“Great.”

“We’ll go after breakfast.”

I nodded and he sat back. “So I assume since I’m building your herb garden box, you’ll be making that breakfast, Pixie?”

I stood and pressed a kiss to his teasing mouth.

“I guess so.”

I was excited as we parked outside the huge building. Thorne rolled his eyes at my obvious glee but refrained from saying anything. I was sure he was saving it all up for later.

He took some sort of monster contraption to hold the wood we needed, and I grabbed a cart. I quickly realized we were two different types of shoppers. I stopped every few feet, picking up totes or a cool-looking tool. Even a new vacuum seemed interesting. Thorne sighed several times as he had to stop, come back, and pull me along, informing me we were here for a purpose.

“Not a damn exploration,” he muttered.