Page 136 of The Woman Who Couldn't Scream
“Uh, no. No more ravens. Edgar Allan Poe’s raven went back to Baltimore and with great ceremony was presented to a museum.” Kateri put Lacey down and hooked her on the leash. “Mrs. Golobovitch, I’ll bring everything by later!”
Stag gave Kateri his hand, pulled her to her feet. They walked on. “What are you going to do with half a million dollars?” he asked. “Buy that house you want?”
She grinned at him. “I already did.”
He laughed, picked her up, hugged her. “Good for you!”
Lacey barked and danced.
“Yes, and good for you, too,” he said to the dog. He put Kateri back down. “You’re going to need a yardman with experience. When I was a kid in Alaska, to make money, I mowed lawns in the summer and strung holiday lights in the winter. I know the trade.”
“But I’d be foolish to take the first applicant for the job.” Kateri resumed her stroll toward the center of town. Lacey and Stag walked beside her. “How much do you charge?”
“I’ll do it for room and board.”
“Room and board? For mowing my lawn?” She was enjoying herself far too much. Teasing with Stag, seeing people’s reactions to her appearance, knowing that in less than a block she’d be at the city center: Town Square Park, Oceanview Café, City Hall… this was Virtue Falls, and here she was at home.
“I’m handy around the house, too.” Stag made his voice low, husky, suggestive. “Good with electrical, fix a leaky faucet, change the light bulbs.”
“That’s all stuff that has to be done maybe once a year.” Kateri’s practical streak could not be tamped down by rampant and eternal love. “Can you vacuum? Load a dishwasher? Do the laundry?”
The pause went on long enough that she stopped to look sternly at Stag.
In a normal voice, he admitted, “Yes, Icando all that stuff.”
“Will you do it without being nagged?”
“Depends on how often you think it needs to be done.”
“It needs to be done when it needs to be done.” She shook her head and walked on, much to Lacey’s approval. “You just failed the roommate application.”
He caught up with her. “I’ve got furniture.”
Kateri hesitated.
“Nice furniture.” He used that sexy voice again, then added an element of persuasive. “You’re going to need it, what with the stuff that got shot up during the final confrontation with John Terrance. Plus I know you’re dealing with increased square footage. You’ll need a second bed, a better couch, some art for the walls…”
“Damn!” She thought furiously. “Okay, we’ll split the household chores according to the schedule I devise. You do your laundry, I’ll do mine. And you let me drive your car.”
Now right in front of the Oceanview Café, he stopped, and in a voice of outrage, he repeated, “Drive my car.”
She turned and walked backward. “I’m the sheriff. I can handle a car like that.”
“Drive my car.”
“You can ride with me.”
“Drive my car.”
“Good. We’re agreed.” She returned to him, wrapped her hands around his arm and leaned close, going in for a kiss and to hell with public decency.
He stopped her with his hand on her shoulder. He looked into her eyes, and he wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t teasing. “I only let relatives drive my car.”
Lacey sighed a long-suffering sigh and sat down.
“If we were relatives we couldn’t do the—wait.” Kateri stepped back. “You meanmarriage?”She should get points for saying it without stammering.
“That’s what I mean.” He didn’t stammer. Not even close. He sounded very sure of himself.
