Page 113 of Fire Dancer
“What a day,” Pippa said, taking in the sky, the space, the peace. Peace we felt inside and out.
We’d hiked to the top of the mesa on the west side of the ranch and sat with our legs dangling over the side of a boulder with views that went on for miles.
“I could spend forever unwinding like this.” I sighed, stroking her arm.
A full minute passed before she quietly asked, “Could you, though? I mean, once you start back at work?”
My heart ached for all I’d put her through. And, yes, I had to go back to work in a few days. But I could already feel the difference that closing the Jananovich case had made. My old enemy was gone, and a raw, personal wound had healed.
I nodded firmly. “Yes. I can’t swear to never working another hour of overtime in my life—”
“I wouldn’t want you to,” Pippa interjected. “Not when it comes to putting away dangerous criminals. I get that now. But less risk and more downtime would be nice.”
“All on board with that plan, believe me. Especially with more projects to do in my downtime.”
“Projects?” Her eyes sparkled with hope.
Mine, too. I could feel them heat.
“You know, maybe finding a fixer-upper to turn into a home…”
Pippa chuckled. “Maybe even converting a barn?”
“For starters. Then there are those art projects I wanted to assist with…”
“Art? You? Since when?”
I poked her. “Since the day I got to help at a local glass shop. It was fun, actually. Plus, the woman who works there is pretty cute.”
Pippa laughed. “Oh yeah? You think you have a shot with her?”
I nodded firmly. “I think I might.” Then I took a deep breath. “I plan on proving it to her too. Every day for the rest of my life.”
She leaned into my shoulder and nuzzled my chin. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright. “Sounds good, but you never know. She could have a really messed-up family.”
I chuckled. “Nah, they’re all right. Her sisters are pretty awesome, and one happens to live with my best friend.” I glanced at the cabin Erin and Nash shared.
“Handy,” Pippa murmured.
“I actually have a lot in common with her father…” I went on.
“That’s good, but you could be getting a nightmare as a mother-in-law.”
“Well, that could be entertaining.”
Pippa snorted. “How little you know.”
“I know she has an in with my boss. That could be useful.”
Pippa sighed. “She has an in with lots of men.”
I turned, cupping her face. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is how much I love her — the glass artist, not her mother.”
“Better be what you meant,” Pippa growled.
I chuckled, then stroked her cheek. “It was. I love you.” I kissed her gently, then rested my head against hers. “And I know we can figure the rest out. Jobs, mothers-in-law…”
“Ranch debt?”