“Because it sounded weird.”
“It sounded adorable.”
She groans.
I grin.
“And for the record, I'm a safety guy too.”
Her cheeks turn pink again.
“In every way.”
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You do that on purpose.”
“Do what?”
“Make everything sound dirty.”
“You started it. Maybe you're the one with the dirty mind.”
The look she gives me could melt steel.
Worth it.
Every damn time.
But then she laughs.
A real laugh.
And suddenly the tension leaves her shoulders.
The stress.
The worry.
The pressure she's been carrying around all week.
It eases just a little.
And that feels like winning.
Eleven
Mary
I should be thinking about the fundraiser.
I absolutely should.
The gym project is hanging by a thread.
The permits still aren't moving.