Didn’t know I was working hard.
Just quit trying to pay me off for helping. Or I’ll stop.
Thought you liked the plant.
She had. Too much. He was wooing her heart and she was absolutely certain that he was not intending to do so.
But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—abandon him.
I do.
So?
She poured in tomatoes. A can of tomato soup. A quarter cup of cooking wine. A can of tomato sauce. Some spices. Added diced onion at the end so that instead of browning and collecting grease, the onions softened in the tomato sauce—and set it all to simmer, planning to leave the finished product in the Crock-Pot while she was gone. Lori could eat whenever she got there. She set the table and played with Kari when the kitten came running into the room with the new catnip toy Lori had brought for her. She looked over her calculus homework. Read the chapter from her biology book—twice because she didn’t quite take it in the first time.
She skipped lunch.
And she did it all with a nervous edge about her. With tendons strung tightly, and not quite smooth movement, as if she’d snap in two at a sudden loud noise.
Then there was a noise. Another text notification.
Are you mad at me? Josh wrote.
No.
I’m just falling for you, which is ludicrous, and if you knew you’d be running for the hills, she thought but did not type.
She stirred the sauce. Little Guy needed her. She had to hold it together and quit thinking about Josh Redmond so much. She was absolutely not going to screw up her volunteering gig with the Love To Go Around program.
And... Oh, boy, did she have Love To Go around.
She wasn’t going to read any more of Josh’s texts. Not until she had herself better in hand.
Another text showed up. Lori. She’d just had a blowout with her roommate and wanted to know if she could come early and hang out at Dana’s for the afternoon, as well. She was on her way.
You seem mad.
The text came through while she was reading Lori’s.
How did he know how she acted when she was mad?
How’s Little Guy?
Had lunch and bath.
Why another bath? What did he do?
Nothing. He’s sleeping in my bed, he has to bathe. Needs plenty of time to dry. Hates dryer.
As soon as he mentioned his bed, she was hot again.
Her doorbell rang, saving her from making an utter fool of herself with a man she’d known less than a week.
* * *
AFTER TWO DAYS of training, Josh’s weeklong orientation was cut short. He was called into the boss’s office for a consultation Wednesday after lunch. They wanted him to head up the alumni fund investment team as well as contribute to the university’s fund-raising efforts as he’d been originally hired to do. He met Will Parsons, Montford’s president. He liked the older man.
He received a bit of a pay raise to compensate for the extra responsibility. If he wasn’t already a millionaire several times over, he’d never become one in his current position, but the salary was decent.
And the work was interesting.
Most important, he’d gotten a promotion after two days on the job. He left the early-afternoon meeting on Wednesday wanting to call Dana Harris to share the good news.
Josh glanced at his watch.
She was on campus. In class. And would be at his house in less than an hour to give L.G. a break from jail.
Unfortunately, he had to get back to work.
* * *
SHE NOTICED THE empty containers stacked neatly on the countertop when she went into Josh’s laundry room to get a treat for L.G. Wednesday afternoon. Every single container she’d brought over on Monday. Empty and cleaned. Presumably ready to give back to her.
She’d put aside some spaghetti sauce for the freezer. Had more barbecue and casserole at home, too. And vegetable soup.
Clearly the man couldn’t cook. And even if he was planning to learn, it could take a while. Judging by his lack of microwaving skills, he had a lot to learn.
Her afternoon class had been canceled—the professor was at a symposium in Phoenix, presenting a paper she’d published. Taking Little Guy with her, Dana ran home, checked on Lori, gathered up the food and stayed long enough to throw together a batch of chocolate chip cookies, too. To make up for her ungrateful acceptance of the plant he’d sent over.
Little Guy was back home, secured in his kennel, by four that afternoon. She’d done her neighborly duty, fulfilled her responsibilities for Love To Go Around and made it back to school for the pet-therapy outing. Lillie was joining them and she didn’t want to be late.
It dawned on her, just before she climbed into the pet-therapy van, that she didn’t even know if Josh liked chocolate chip cookies.