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“I know better, Princess.” He took the plate she offered.
“Stop calling me that.” She sighed. “You don’t need to fix it. Okay? It’s not a big deal.”
“Right.” He frowned. “It’s a dishwasher.”
She glanced at him, a tell-tale flush on her cheeks.
He sucked in a deep breath. “What?”
She shook her head, turning back to the dishes.
“What’s eating you, Princess?” he murmured, willing her to look back at him.
“R-Ryder,” Cody held up the kitten. “Tom saw Doc F-F-Fisher. Says Tom is a good cat.”
“My brother would know. Fisher’s all about cats and dogs.” Ryder smiled at the boy and took the kitten, holding it up so they were eye to eye. The kitten swatted at Ryder’s nose. “Plenty of energy.” He laughed.
Cody nodded.
“That’s an understatement,” Annabeth added.
Ryder turned the kitten so it was nose to nose with her. The kitten started purring, his little paws kneading the air. She shook her head, but took the kitten and held it under her chin. “Yeah, yeah, you’re adorable.”
Ryder winked at Cody, who winked back. It was then that he noticed Grandma Florence snoring softly in her wheelchair.
“Naptime?” Ryder asked softly.
“She d-does that.” Cody grinned. “Any new cars?” Cody loved talking about cars—he was a lot like Greg that way. Every now and then, he’d take Cody to John’s garage with him. The boy had an endless fascination with the way things worked. He loved to tinker, putting things together, taking them apart. And Ryder respected that. A man should know how to work with his hands, to take care of things around the house and in the garage.
“Wh-what about the Cadillac?” Cody asked.
Ryder grinned. “Finished.”
“Can I see it?” Cody asked.
Ryder looked at Annabeth in question.
“Not tonight,” she hedged, not meeting his eyes. She handed Tom back to Cody, but Ryder saw the quick kiss she planted on the kitten’s head. “I’ve got to get Grandma home and finish the laundry before bed. Then I have a little work to do.”
He heard the exhaustion in her voice. “What can I do?” Ryder glanced at the clock.
She scowled. “Cody, go get your clothes picked out for tomorrow while I get Grandma’s things together.”
Ryder waited, knowing once Cody was out of the room he was going to get an earful.
“Ryder, you can’t keep doing this.” She pointed around the room. “People will talk.”
“People? Like who?” he asked, resting his hip against the kitchen counter while she wiped down the stove top.
“People,” she grumbled. “Like Lola Worley.”
“Yeah, sure, Lola Worley probably is talking.” He shrugged. Lola was one of three sweet blue-haired ladies who owned the only beauty shop on Main Street. She was courting the owner of the only bakery on Main Street, ensuring she’d hear all the gossip Stonewall Crossing had to offer. Lola had big ears and an even bigger mouth. But, according to some, she had an equally big heart. “What are they talking about?”
“Us,” she snapped, clearly exasperated. “You. Being here all the time. Taking care of things.”
“All the time?” He scratched his head. He hadn’t been here in a long time. Too long. She was worried about him being here? She’d never given a hoot before.
“Things are...different now.” She swallowed.
