Becky let him pamper her, mostly because she didn’t have a choice. Her emotions were in such chaos that she barely knew which way was up.
Harry had made it clear that he didn’t want to kiss her again. Hadn’t said a single thing during the whole drive while she fought back tears.
Then he carried her about as if she was a fairy princess rather than a broken garden gnome. And he’d admired her brewery. Not just, “That’s nice,” like most people, but he’d been seriously impressed.
What she really hadn’t been ready for was the perception that somehow told him that she would always choose to face her brewery. Then he’d rushed back in from the van as if being twenty minutes behind on her meds was an international crisis. Actually the way her knee was feeling half an hour later, those twenty minu
