“We could dig one more hole and put down a cabin for you, too,” I call as he approaches. “Say the word, and I’ll make it happen.”
Grady snorts, shaking his head. “Don’t joke where Chloe can hear, or I’ll end up with a mini Homestead whether I’m ready or not.”
The morning sun warms my neck as I walk to meet him, sparing him the extra steps. “What brings you to my dusty corner of paradise?”
Grady leans his hip on a sawhorse to give his bad leg a break as his hazel eyes scan the clearing. “I’m here for the grand tour.”
“Well, it’s not much to look at yet.” I point to the eastern edge of the clearing. “Those five cabin foundations are poured and curing. Framing starts next week. The staff quarters you’re standing next to will get concrete tomorrow.”
Grady studies the wooden forms. “These are smaller than the guest cabins.”
“Good eye. Staff quarters are built for efficiency, not luxury.” I tap the blueprint. “But they’ll have better insulation and upgraded heating systems.”
A worker walks past, waving to us. The site hums with activity around us, voices calling back and forth, and I breathe in the ordered chaos of creation.
“It’s amazing how all of this will result in livable cabins,” he says with awe. “I bet Leif’s eager to move out of his hotel and into one of these bad boys. Which one will be his?”
I point to the footprint at the far end. “It will have a little extra yard space and privacy.”
He nudges my foot with his cane. “Are you playing favorites, Ms. Wilson?”
“Don’t know what you mean, Mr. Finch.” I lean sideways and bump my shoulder against his, careful not to upset his balance. “The numbering ended up that way by pure accident.”
“Sure, sure.” He covers his mouth with one hand to hide his amusement. “I believe you.”
“Have you talked to him lately?” The question slips out before I can stop it. “Leif?”
Grady studies me, too perceptive. “He’s been busy with Quinn’s schedule. I haven’t seen much of him since she started at Pinecrest Academy.”
“Right.” I turn toward the next foundation outline, changing the subject. “How is your new article coming along?”
He hums in thought. “Still pulling the pieces together. Not sure how it will shape up yet.”
“Is that why you’re taking a walkabout in the middle of the morning?” I guess.
“Guilty as charged.” He rubs the back of his neck. “At this stage, it’s like looking at the pieces of a puzzle without knowing the final image. But it will come together.”
I resist the desire to reach out and rub the tension from his shoulders. “Jared had an idea I wanted to run by you. Saturday lunch after market day. Nothing fancy, just food and conversation at our place.”
Grady shifts to face me. “What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion.” I shrug, keeping my focus on the site rather than his reaction. “Jared thought it might be fun to have people over.”
Grady cocks his head to the side. “Only Jared?”
Heat rises to my cheeks. Six months ago, I would never have had the guts to make the invitation.
“Not only Jared.” I purse my lips. “I apologize if I’ve been too subtle about enjoying your company.”
“Not too subtle. I enjoy hearing it, though.” He shifts his attention forward again, somehow ending up closer now, and his arm brushes mine. “I would love to come enjoy a meal and company at your home. Should I bring anything?”
“Only your appetite.” A flutter starts up behind my rib cage. “I’ll probably make too much food.”
“You say that like it’s a problem.” Grady checks his watch. “I should let you return to work.”
I straighten. “Let me walk you back.”
“Now who’s avoiding work?” he teases.