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Even, Clara thought, if ending the demon bitch’s life ended her own.
As the sun set, Sloan walked over her pretty new patio. “I think the moss. The little white chamomile flowers are tempting, but I’m seeing the moss. It’s just right.”
She gave Dean a big hug and kiss. “Thank you. This is a wonderful surprise.”
“You’ve got enough left to start a walkway out front. Nash knows what he’s doing now.”
“I’m going to keep that in mind.” Turning, she wrapped round Nash, kissed him. “Thanks for learning the lesson.”
“Well.” Dean stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’m taking my dog and my tamper and heading home.”
“I’ll give you a hand loading that up.”
“I’ve got Tic. Come on, Tic. I’ll see what I can throw together for dinner because I’m starving,” said Sloan.
Nash rolled the tamper around to Dean’s truck, then up the ramp into the bed while Mop jumped in the cab.
Dean shut the bed door, leaned against it.
“You know, I’m aware you and my girl aren’t playing gin rummy.”
“Your girl is a fascinating woman.”
“And nobody’s fool.”
“That’s for damn sure.”
“I don’t see you as one either. So. Don’t screw it up.”
“You could say I’m learning a lesson on how to be a part of something.”
“Son.” He gave Nash a slap on the back. “That’s one lesson that never ends.”
Dean hopped in the truck, sent Nash a salute, and backed out of the drive.
When Nash came in through the mudroom, Tic was chowing down on his dinner.
Sloan stood at her miserable counter slicing up a chicken breast. “I’m doing a quick chicken stir-fry because starving. I’m having wine. There’s one beer left. I’ve got it on the list for tomorrow.”
He went with his heart—another lesson learned. He crossed to her, took the knife, and set it aside. Then he drew her in, letting his heart lead as he kissed her.
“I love you.”
She let out a breath, then stroked a hand down the stubble on his cheek. “That’s nice to hear. I love you, too.”
“I’m getting used to saying it. It takes some practice.”
“Practice all you want, because hearing it’s never going to get old. Did something happen?”
“I fell in love with you. I’m getting used to it.” He rested his forehead to hers a moment. “Okay. Let me wash up and I’ll help you chop something.”
On Wednesday night, Terry Brown and his crew closed and cleaned the kitchen. For a hump day, they’d been busy, and he credited his dinner special of spiced tilapia sticks for some of it.
He dearly loved to cook. He enjoyed experimenting with new recipes, new flavors and combinations. Just as he loved navigating the heat and chaos of the kitchen.
By his standards, every square inch of that kitchen had to shine clean before he walked out the door.
He felt the same about the kitchen at home, and since he did the bulk of the cooking, Hallie did the bulk of the cleaning.