Page 69 of Show Me

“Reassuring.”

She lets out a laugh, and my heart trips before I can stop it.

When I climb down, we’re closer than expected. Her hands are still on the ladder. Mine close over hers to steady it. Firm. Necessary. Except I don’t move right away when I should. She doesn’t either. The ladder creaks between us, and neither of us seems eager to break the moment.

“Got it?” My voice comes out rougher than it should.

“Yeah.”

Neither of us moves for a beat longer than needed. Then I step back like I meant to all along. The porch light hums above us. The night smells like cold leaves and wood smoke.

“Does that feel… safer?”

She nods but avoids my gaze, like this means more to her than she wants to say. “It feels like someone tried to take something, and we took it back.”

My chest tightens at her downturned lips and furrowed brow. This isn’t over. Back inside, I pull out my phone and click from screen to screen as she tidies up the kitchen, putting away the dishes, wiping down the counters, staying away from the box with the stuffed pig nestled inside.

“I ordered you a security system.” I shove the phone into my back pocket.

She spins to face me. “You what?”

“It’ll be here in two days. Cameras, door sensors, alarm. I’ll install it.”

She worries her bottom lip as she scrapes her palms over her jeans. “That sounds expensive. I can’t afford that right now. Especially after paying you back for all the locks you installed.”

“It sounds necessary, and you aren’t paying me back for anything. Someone broke into your home and made you feel uncomfortable there. I’m not letting that happen again.”

“What’s the catch?”

“There isn’t one.” I lift a shoulder. “Consider it… preventative maintenance.”

Her mouth curves. “You’re comparing my safety to roof shingles.”

“Roofs are important.” I leave the rest unsaid.

She exhales a laugh, then sobers. “Thank you.”

The words land heavier than they should, so I take a step back and put distance between us, placing myself back on solid ground, where I belong. “I like fixing problems.”

“This isn’t a loose hinge.”

“No. It’s not.”

Squirt ambles in, snout working the air before pressing solidly against my leg like I’m his new scratching post.

“You supervising?”

He leans harder, weight settling against my boot.

“Yeah,” I mutter. “I get it. You’re keeping an eye on me.”

After I scratch the pig’s ear, I move to the door sensor, adjusting it for the tenth time.

Ruby rests her hip against the counter, watching me. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t have to come back with all this.”