Perfect
“It was like she suddenly developed this sixth sense. The weird thing was the sixth sense only seemed to let her know when the handsome maple-tree farmer was within a hundred feet of her. It was that sixth sense that caused her to veer into a side aisle where she hid from sight, watching, taking all of him in.
She eased back between the shelves laden with flannel shirts and long john themo-underwear.
There was something about the man that intrigued the hell out of her and maybe if she studied him for a minute she’d figure it out and be able to limit her reactions to them. Be in control.
The elderly Mr.
Whoseher’s, who had greeted her as soon as she’d entered the establishment and sent the little bell attached to the door to tinkle, also greeted Dylan a cheery, “Good morning”. He hustled around the overstocked counter and made room for the large wooden crate Dylan carried.
By the rigidity of his shoulders and upper arms, Darcy could tell the box held some weight.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Jake.
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