swayed together, and she wondered if he was sharing a similar fantasy. If heâ
She stopped her wayward thoughts and summoned the resolve to ease away.
âDonât,â she whispered.
Instantly, his hands dropped to his sides.
Taking a step back, he dragged in a breath and let it out as he stood looking at her. While she tried to figure out what his expression meant, he said, âTell me whatâs wrong.â
Could she?
Talking to Jo had seemed like such a logical move. Talking to Mack didnât have the same appeal.
To keep from blurting anything right away she said, âLetâs have a cup of tea.â
âOkay.â
He followed her into the kitchen and looked around in surprise at the flour, sugar and other ingredients spread around on the counter. âYouâre baking?â
She flushed. âAfter we talked, I knew I wasnât going back to sleep, so I started making some of those baking jars weâve been selling in the Lobby Shop.â
âI see,â he answered, though she was pretty sure the gift items werenât on his radar.
âThey were selling so fast before Christmas that Sabrina asked me for some more,â she answered. âSheâs paying me up front for the ingredients and giving me a commission on every sale. Maybe we can make them into a feature at the shop.â
When she realized she was babbling, she stopped. Instead she asked, âWhat kind of tea do you want? Or would you prefer coffee?â
âDonât go to the trouble of making coffee. Iâll have whatever youâre having.â
âYouâre into green tea flavored with ginger?â
âMaybe not. You got any⦠Earl Grey?â
There was a moment of silence when they both remembered that Craig had liked Earl Grey.
Turning quickly away, she filled the kettle and set it on a burner, then got tea bags out of the pantry and put them into mugs. As she waited for the water to boil, she finished up the jar sheâd been making, then started putting away the rest of the supplies, aware all the time of Mack sitting at the kitchen table watching her. He didnât sit in Craigâs chair, she noticed. Probably he knew which one to avoid.
As she wiped spilled flour from the counter, he said, âYouâll feel better when you tell me why you called the office.â
âProbably not.â
âGive it a shot.â
The kettle whistled, and she snatched it off the burner, then poured water into the mugs.
âSugar?â
âNo, thanks.â
She added sugar to her own mug, keeping her back to him. After taking a breath and letting it out, she blurted, âI had a nightmare, and I think itâs real.â
âYou mean, like you dreamed someone was outside, and you woke up and heard rustling in the shrubbery?â He glanced toward the darkened window. âDo you want me to check around the house now?â
âNo. Not someone around here. Someone in Gaptown. Someone in trouble.â She swallowed. âSomeone who was calling out to me.â
Long seconds passed before he answered. âThatâs your hometown?â
âYes.â
âThey called on the phone?â
Obviously, he didnât get what she was trying to say.More likely, she wasnât being very clear. She set his mug on the table in front of him but remained standing.
He shifted in his seat, keeping his eyes on her.
Her throat had turned dry, so that she had to swallow before she could speak. âNot a phone call or anything like that. It was a dream. Butâ¦Iâm pretty sure it was real.â Absolutely sure. But she wasnât going to say it that way. Not to Mack Steele.
He turned his mug around on the table. When he spoke, his words were measured. âDreams arenât reality.â
âYeah. Right,â she agreed too quickly. âEverybody knows that.â Rushing on, she added, âIt was a mistake for you to come over.