Page 43 of The Cowboy's Christmas
Quinn’s eyebrows went up, and he felt a stupid sense of relief. “You’re asking if I’d like to live in your barn?”
“I know. It’s not the Graff Hotel, but it has its charm.” She smiled a little before she explained. “There’s a small apartment. A dusty, kind of crammed-with-stuff apartment. The previous manager lived there before we bought the place.”
“I…”
She folded her arms over her insulated coveralls. She jerked her head in the direction of the barn. “At least see the place.”
“Sure.”
He followed Savannah to the far side of the barn, past the door to the woodshop Sophie and Jessa had showed him yesterday. She stopped beside the only other door on that wall, and he followed her into a room that had everything a guy like him needed for the short term—a kitchenette, a small bathroom, a bed, a chair and a table. And, as she’d said, it was dusty and had stacks of saddles and boxes.
“No mice,” she said. “And the mattress is new, still in plastic, so it’s in good shape. At one point Deke had thought he’d move out here, but then—”
“Yeah,” he said, wanting to spare her having to explain why Deke had stayed in the house. “Not bad.”
“We can move the stuff out of here and into the woodshop.”
“No. I can work around it.”
Everything, except for the two saddles astride storage boxes in the middle of the room, was stacked against the wall, leaving him room to move around. “It’s cozy.”
“You wouldn’t have to fight the weather to get here. You won’t have to pay for a room, Pepper can play with Joey and Harold. You can help me double team Deke when necessary.” She canted her head to one side, cocking an eyebrow. “No pressure,” she added with mock nonchalance.
“I’ll stay, thank you.” It was kind of a nice situation, really. He’d have his privacy; Savannah would have help. Deke would get a chance to heal.
“I’ll do my own cooking.” It was a statement meant to fend off any well-meaning invitations to dinner.
“Of course,” she said in a way that made him wonder if he’d been presumptuous in assuming that he might get invited to family meals.
She smoothed a few strands of dark hair away from her face. “We won’t impinge on your personal boundaries.”
“I’m not worried about boundaries.”
“Really?”
“No more than you are,” he said.
Her lips curved for the first time since she’d made her offer. “Then I guess you’re worried about boundaries.”
Sometimes her honesty surprised him, which in turn made it difficult to come up with a snappy comeback. And sometimes there didn’t need to be a comeback, especially when dealing with the truth. They had boundaries, forged by life events neither of them had a hand in making.
“Thank you, by the way, for agreeing to take Deke and the girls to Marietta for the Christmas bash at the library. I’m going to go, so you’re off the hook.”
He didn’t necessarily want to be off the hook. “Are you sure?”
“I am,” she said simply, but he had a feeling that deciding to go hadn’t been simple or easy.
“So it’s a deal? The living arrangement?”
“It is.”
“Excellent.” Savannah held out a hand to Quinn and he took it, tamping down thoughts of the kiss they’d shared. No easy task when she was close enough for him to smell the floral scent rising from her dark hair.
Her hand was small, but her grip was firm as they shook on their deal. And if their fingers clung a little longer than necessary, neither of them made a show of noticing.
