My first instinct was to laugh hysterically. My second was to dive into a dark closet and pull a blanket over my head. But I took a deep breath and said, “Mitchell, I’m no financial wizard. That’s just not my skill set.” As if. I still hadn’t had the financial talk with Rafe about housing costs, and though my student loans were nearly paid off, they still consumed a fair part of my income.

“Still,” he said. “You must have some recommendations.”

I smiled. “Other than buy low and sell high? Not really. Tell you what, though. Have you met Otto Bingham, my aunt’s new husband? He’s a retired accountant and spends a few hours a week at the library helping people with their finances. I’m sure he’d be able to give you some basic advice and point you in the right direction.”

“Yeah? That sounds . . .” Mitchell’s phone dinged. He pulled it out of his pants pocket, glanced at it, and put it back into his pocket. “Yeah, that sounds good, Minnie. Thanks!” He beamed again, gave me a wave, and strode off in the direction of the toy store.

I watched him go, squinting a little. That had been an odd conversation, even for Mitchell. I shrugged and started walking to the house. Maybe his text had been from an employee with a toy emergency. I frowned and studied the sidewalk, trying to think what an emergency at the toy store might look like. Maybe the credit card machine was broken. Or maybe a shipment of whatever the new hot toy was had been delayed and wouldn’t arrive in time for the holidays. Or maybe—

A man stepped in front of me and I instinctively jumped sideways. “Sorry!”

“You should really pay more attention to where you’re going,” Rafe said.

I nodded, pulling in a heart-calming breath. “And you should really think more about the permanent damage you’re doing to my nervous system when you do that.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Nah. A good scare every once in a while is good for you.”

“Oh? When was the last time you were that scared?”

“When they ran out of Pabst Blue Ribbon at the bowling alley,” he said promptly. “Glad I caught you before you got to the house. I had to reprime the trim on the stairway, so you’d better stay out for a couple of days.”

I made a face. Paint primer fumes gave me horrendous headaches. “Thanks for telling me before I went in.”

“Nothing but the best for my fiancée.” He took my hand and we started walking. “Was that Mitchell you were talking to back there?”