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Striker walked closer.
“Where’s the plumber?” he asked.
“He went home,” she answered. “How did you know…never mind.”
He shrugged. “Word gets around.”
“Mmm hmm. Do you want to come up on the deck?”
“Were you getting ready to go inside?”
“Not yet. I like to spend a few minutes out here before I go to sleep.”
Striker climbed the steps, and she opened the wood gate to let him in.
“Does this work?” he asked, pointing to the gas fire pit that sat in the center of several chairs.
“It does,” she answered, flipping the switch that ignited the flame.
“You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all,” she said, sitting in one of the chairs and pulling the blanket she’d brought outside over her. “Are you warm enough?”
Striker nodded, holding his hands closer to the fire. “I think so, although I might just be numb.”
“It’s colder here than people think.”
He nodded. “It’s the ocean.” He looked out at it and then back at her. “You like it here.”
“I do, and it’s more than because Ava is here. I’d want to live here anyway.”
“You’re making a life for yourself.”
Aine thought about his words for a minute. “I guess, but lately I’ve been feeling like it’s pretty small.”
“What? This town or your life?”
“My life. As you know, I graduated from college, but haven’t done anything with my degree.”
“Are you still considering continuing your education?”
“I’m not sure. I mean, to get the kind of job we’ve discussed in the past, I’d probably have to get my Ph.D.”
“What’s stopping you?”
“Time. Sam.”
“Your nephew?”
Aine nodded.
“What about the University of Oregon?”
“I looked into their Cognitive, Computational, and Systems Neuroscience Program.”
“They have a good reputation for their Behavioral Analysis programs.”
“Griffin…never mind.”
