opening.
“Before I forget, I brought your shotgun back. It’s on the kitchen counter. The shells are with it.”
“Keep it. I wasn’t kidding about finding bear scat beside my driveway. Now that this place is occupied again, chances are good a bruin will give both our cottages a wide berth, but with all those kids you have over there, you should play it safe.”
“I’d rather not have a gun in the house.”
“And I’d rather you did. It’s not like I can run over and do the shooting for you if the occasion arises.” He pulled himself up and tucked a crutch under each arm. “You know how to use it, right?”
She hesitated. As long as she kept it well out of the kids’ reach, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. She had to admit there was a certain appeal to having a weapon handy just in case Barry—
“Well?” Sean prodded.
“My uncle taught me when I was twelve,” she said. “But I’m not licensed.”
“You don’t need a license, and even if you did, I’m not about to rat you out for illegal possession of a firearm. You don’t have to carry it around with you, just keep it handy. For the kids’ sakes.”
For the kids’ sakes.
He had no idea.
“What about you?” she asked. “As you pointed out, you can’t even run.”
“Which is why I’m not likely to be wandering more than a couple of feet from a door anytime soon. Take the gun, Grace.”
He made a valid point. Several, actually, and so she capitulated with a single nod.
Sean swung past her on his crutches and led the way through the living room, pausing along the way to turn on two table lamps and then the overhead light in the kitchen. Grace picked up the shotgun and shells she’d left on the counter, and then Sean followed her to the door.
“You have a flashlight?”
She patted her jacket pocket in reply.
“Well, then,” he said, holding out a hand. “It’s been an adventure.”
Snorting at the droll summary of the past two days, Grace accepted the handshake.
“That’s one way to describe it,” she said. “Though I’m sure you’ll be glad to get down to the peace and quiet you had in mind when you came out here. Not to mention giving your poor leg a chance to heal.”
Sean glanced down at the offending—and offended—limb. “Healing would be nice,” he agreed, raising his gaze to hers again. “But I’m glad to have met you. And your brood.”
Grace realized he still held her hand, his fingers strong and warm around hers. And that he remained shirtless. She pulled from his grasp.
“It’s been nice meeting you, too.” She cleared a foreign huskiness from her throat. “And if you do need anything, I usually keep the kitchen window open during the day. If you yell loudly enough, I should be able to hear you from our place. Unless it’s raining, of course. Or if it gets any colder and starts to snow. Though I could still…”
She let her babble trail off. Leave, Grace. Just leave.
“I’ll remember that.” Sean reached past her to flick on the porch light. Heat radiated from his bare arm, doing nothing to relieve the frisson of awareness running along her veins. His gaze lingered on hers one last time. “Safe walk home.”
Grace made it across the deck to the top of the stairs before Sean’s voice stopped her.
“Um, Grace?”
She turned to find the amusement dancing in his eyes again. He nodded at the weapon she carried.
“Those things tend to work better if they’re loaded.”
He closed the door, leaving her to fumble three of the shells from her pocket into the shotgun’s loading port, certain she could still feel his gaze on her.
CHAPTER 15
………………
SEAN FOUGHT HIS WAY OUT from under a tangle of covers and grabbed for the shrieking cell phone on the bedside table. He squinted at the too-bright display. Scowled. Jabbed the icon to answer the call.
“This had better be damned good, Connor. It’s still bloody dark outside.”
Momentary silence. Then his cousin’s voice,
“Before I forget, I brought your shotgun back. It’s on the kitchen counter. The shells are with it.”
“Keep it. I wasn’t kidding about finding bear scat beside my driveway. Now that this place is occupied again, chances are good a bruin will give both our cottages a wide berth, but with all those kids you have over there, you should play it safe.”
“I’d rather not have a gun in the house.”
“And I’d rather you did. It’s not like I can run over and do the shooting for you if the occasion arises.” He pulled himself up and tucked a crutch under each arm. “You know how to use it, right?”
She hesitated. As long as she kept it well out of the kids’ reach, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. She had to admit there was a certain appeal to having a weapon handy just in case Barry—
“Well?” Sean prodded.
“My uncle taught me when I was twelve,” she said. “But I’m not licensed.”
“You don’t need a license, and even if you did, I’m not about to rat you out for illegal possession of a firearm. You don’t have to carry it around with you, just keep it handy. For the kids’ sakes.”
For the kids’ sakes.
He had no idea.
“What about you?” she asked. “As you pointed out, you can’t even run.”
“Which is why I’m not likely to be wandering more than a couple of feet from a door anytime soon. Take the gun, Grace.”
He made a valid point. Several, actually, and so she capitulated with a single nod.
Sean swung past her on his crutches and led the way through the living room, pausing along the way to turn on two table lamps and then the overhead light in the kitchen. Grace picked up the shotgun and shells she’d left on the counter, and then Sean followed her to the door.
“You have a flashlight?”
She patted her jacket pocket in reply.
“Well, then,” he said, holding out a hand. “It’s been an adventure.”
Snorting at the droll summary of the past two days, Grace accepted the handshake.
“That’s one way to describe it,” she said. “Though I’m sure you’ll be glad to get down to the peace and quiet you had in mind when you came out here. Not to mention giving your poor leg a chance to heal.”
Sean glanced down at the offending—and offended—limb. “Healing would be nice,” he agreed, raising his gaze to hers again. “But I’m glad to have met you. And your brood.”
Grace realized he still held her hand, his fingers strong and warm around hers. And that he remained shirtless. She pulled from his grasp.
“It’s been nice meeting you, too.” She cleared a foreign huskiness from her throat. “And if you do need anything, I usually keep the kitchen window open during the day. If you yell loudly enough, I should be able to hear you from our place. Unless it’s raining, of course. Or if it gets any colder and starts to snow. Though I could still…”
She let her babble trail off. Leave, Grace. Just leave.
“I’ll remember that.” Sean reached past her to flick on the porch light. Heat radiated from his bare arm, doing nothing to relieve the frisson of awareness running along her veins. His gaze lingered on hers one last time. “Safe walk home.”
Grace made it across the deck to the top of the stairs before Sean’s voice stopped her.
“Um, Grace?”
She turned to find the amusement dancing in his eyes again. He nodded at the weapon she carried.
“Those things tend to work better if they’re loaded.”
He closed the door, leaving her to fumble three of the shells from her pocket into the shotgun’s loading port, certain she could still feel his gaze on her.
CHAPTER 15
………………
SEAN FOUGHT HIS WAY OUT from under a tangle of covers and grabbed for the shrieking cell phone on the bedside table. He squinted at the too-bright display. Scowled. Jabbed the icon to answer the call.
“This had better be damned good, Connor. It’s still bloody dark outside.”
Momentary silence. Then his cousin’s voice,
Similar Books
