Page 15 of A Simple Life

He stepped closer, his voice serious. “It’s the best gift ever, Uncle J. Thanks again. I’ll take good care of it.”

“I know you will.”

“Mom is gonna help me decorate it for the parade. I’m going with a jungle theme.”

“Good choice.”

I left him finishing his task, feeling proud. The kid made me smile.

My smile faded as I rounded the corner, spying Quinn and Abby at the counter, talking to Bob. I walked over, standing beside them. “Found a problem with the house?” I asked.

Quinn turned, focusing her beautiful eyes on me. “No. I was asking about the paint.”

“Put it on the house tab,” I instructed Bob.

“I can pay for the paint.”

I huffed an impatient sigh. “I will pay for the paint and supplies. I would have if I’d painted the place. It’s part of the service.” Bob walked away, and I shook my head. “Stop being stubborn.”

Her eyebrows flew up. “I beg your pardon?”

I leaned close. “Look, lady. I didn’t mean to insult you yesterday. Or today. I certainly didn’t mean to scare your daughter or infer there was a problem. Quit twisting my words and refusing help when it’s offered.”

“Is all the service you provide rude and demanding?”

“Only when someone pushes my buttons.”

She stepped back. “I’m not pushing anything, Mr. Elliott. I think I prefer dealing with your sister.”

“I prefer it as well.”

“Good. Then we agree on something.”

“Yes. Now, pick your paint and supplies, and let Bob or one of the staff carry them to your car. Surely that won’t offend your independent attitude if it’s not me doing the assisting.”

Then for the second time that day, I walked away from Quinn Harper.

5

JOHN

Sunday morning, a car pulled into my driveway as I was walking back to the house after collecting eggs. I shielded my eyes, peering at the vehicle. My curiosity was cleared up when Quinn Harper stepped from the SUV, stopping to help her daughter out of the back seat.

I frowned as she approached, wondering what she was doing here.

Abby ran up, excited. “Hi!”

“Hey, Pumpkin.” I hunched down. “What are you doing here?” I asked, hoping by directing the question to her, I wouldn’t say the wrong thing and ignite her mother’s wrath.

“We had to bring your box!”

I stood, meeting Quinn’s gaze. It was calm but wary. I was puzzled until she explained.

“You left your toolbox at the house.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

“I called Laura and offered to drop it off. I thought maybe we could clear the air.”