Page 17 of Erik's Salvation
He scrubbed a hand over his face, shouting in his goddamn head not to do it, but…
“How often do they need watering?”
She stopped and turned, eyes widening. “They could probably get away with every three days. And that’s only when there’s been no rain.”
Don’t fucking do it, Erik. Don’t—
“Fine. You can water them.”
The smile on her face was so fucking wide, it was radiant. Then she did something he didn’t expect. She dropped the can and threw her arms around his shoulders.
Her sweet scent surrounded him, suffocating him. And all that softness against his hard, her damn hair tickling his face…it made every inch of his skin burn.
She whispered into his ear, her breath brushing against his cool skin. “Thank you, Erik Hunter. Your grandfather’s smiling right now.”
No. The old man wasn’t smiling. He was laughing so goddamn hard that he was probably falling off his cloud. BecausenowErik understood why his grandfather had left him the house.
CHAPTER6
“One cup of flour. In. One tablespoon of baking soda. Done. One cup of sugar, aka, the good part. In the bowl.”
Hannah peeked over Brigid’s shoulder as her friend threw together the ingredients for the muffins. If there was ever a woman who shouldn’t be baking, it was Brigid. Heck, she was pretty sure her friend had once given her food poisoning in an endeavor to bake her a birthday cake.
Hannah wasn’t the best baker, but she was better than Brigid.
She cleared her throat. “Brigid, the recipe says half a cup of sugar.”
“Shit.” Her friend started scooping tablespoons of sugar from the bowl. She got about three scoops in before leaning back and staring at the bowl like her eyes could measure it. “That looks like half a cup, right?”
Hannah laughed and lifted a shoulder. “If it’s not, it will just be a bit sweet. Might even make it better.”
“This is why I came here to bake. I need your words of confidence.”
Was that it? Or was her friend scared of burning down her own kitchen, so she’d chosen Hannah’s?
Hannah went to the fridge and grabbed the wet ingredients. “Tell me again why you need to bake muffins?”
“Because James has an important meeting with Mrs. Cullen, and I know she has a sweet tooth, so if anything can tip her over the edge and get her to give James the contract to sell her house, it’s baked goods.”
Ah, yes. Mrs. Cullen. The woman had been talking about downsizing for years. She would be offended that the woman was going to James and not her, but everyone knew she had a thing for young men.
“And now that you have Angelo’s home to sell, he feels like he’s on the back burner.”
Her heart thumped at the reminder. That call yesterday to tell her the house was hers…God, it had been everything. A weight off her shoulders. Now she just had to sell it.
As Brigid cracked the eggs, Hannah’s gaze flickered to the kitchen window, a smile stretching her lips when she saw Stanley’s flowerbed. Alive and thriving…thanks to her. And thanks to Erik granting her visitation rights.
“How are things going with you and your new neighbor?” Brigid asked as she poured in some milk.
“We’ve come to somewhat of a truce these last couple of weeks. I water the flowers as needed, and he doesn’t yell at me. Win-win.”
Every so often, they smiled at each other. Okay, she smiled athimand received a tiny chin dip in response. But there was kind of a ghost of a smile on his face. And at least the man wasn’t glaring, or worse, sending her away.
Brigid looked up, a grin on her face. “I think this might be the start of a beautiful love story.”
Hannah rolled her eyes, then frowned at the amount of milk going into the mixture. “Ah, Brigid…”
Her friend looked down. “Shit.” She plonked the carton of milk back onto the counter, then grimaced. “Should I try scooping it out?”
