Page 39 of A Simple Life

“Good thing you didn’t drown in the milk.”

That made him laugh. “I was up at five working the fields, then back to the house to finish up the interior repairs.”

“Do you pay for that?”

He took another bite, chewing and looking thoughtful. “I shouldn’t. They caused the damage. But I’m helping pay. She was trying to hang their first family picture and somehow missed the stud and went right into the wire running up the side of it. Fred gave me a break on the work, and they will repaint. I’m glad they didn’t burn down the house. They’re a nice young couple. He works in the city hall office.”

“You’re a good man.”

He rolled his eyes. “What good would it do me if I saddled them with a huge bill so they couldn’t pay their rent? I guarantee she’ll be more careful next time. In fact, she’ll call me. Or wait for her husband to get home. Fred advised her to look and see if there was an outlet box on the stud before hammering in a nail next time. I think she learned her lesson.”

“I was worried when you didn’t call,” I confessed. “But I’m glad to see you here.”

He was silent for a moment, finishing his sandwich. “I’m sorry I worried you. I was so busy putting out fires, but I should have texted at least.” He paused and looked dismayed. “Aside from my sister, I’m not used to having someone to worry about me. I’m not used to checking in.”

“I understand.”

“I’ll do better.”

He emptied his soup bowl and sat back. “Incredible,” he muttered.

I got the coffeepot and filled our cups, then slid the last piece of blueberry pie in front of him. Chloe came out from the kitchen, waving goodbye. I locked the door behind her. Clint called out goodnight, leaving from the back.

“They’re gone already?”

“Yep. I guarantee the kitchen is spotless. Chloe has the tables set for morning. Normally, I make the pie crusts for tomorrow or bake a cake. Put on the roast to cook overnight. Then I head home.”

“You work hard.”

“You do as well.”

He sliced off a hunk of pie, chewing it. “God, woman, you can cook. I’m so glad hell froze over.”

I laughed, resting my chin on my hand. “John—may I ask something?”

Instantly, I had his attention. He sat straighter, focused on me. I loved his intensity. “Anything, darlin’.”

“Can I ask what we’re doing?”

“I assume you mean in a broader spectrum than having coffee right now.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was attracted to you from the start. Then we argued, and things went downhill. We seemed to strike sparks every time we were in the vicinity of each other.” He regarded me for a moment. “We still do but in an entirely different way.”

“So, you’re still attracted to me.”

He chuckled. “Quinn, even when you were driving me mad, I was attracted to you. That never stopped.”

“So, what are we?” I asked.

He smiled. It was his gentle smile—the one that softened his eyes and made him look younger. The frown lines on his forehead disappeared, and he looked almost vulnerable.

“What are we?” he asked. “Again, I would admit to being unsure, but I do know this. We’re something, and we’re important. I think how important is up to you. You lead, Quinn. I’m ready to follow.”

11

JOHN