“The phone number would be great.” He’d solved some of my most pressing problems in five seconds flat. The man was impressive.

And he was moving right along. He grabbed the first dusty box and didn’t grunt with effort like I had.

I grabbed my own box and hurried after him, not wanting to be the slacker on the team. “I really appreciate this.”

Then we did it again and again. Rinse and repeat.

After a while, he switched to two boxes per trip, stacking them on top of each other. And he did not get dirty. He didn’t have to hug the boxes against his body like I did. He was strong enough to hold them out in front of him.

We fell into a rhythm, a comfortable silence. He only broke it on the last trip, setting down the last boxes and brushing off his hands. “My grandfather is heartbroken over Violet’s death. He’d love to stop by and meet you. I promised I’d ask.”

I tried to hide how pitifully hard I was breathing. “He’s welcome anytime. I’ll be here for at least a week. And thank you again for the help. This would have taken me the rest of the day without you. Glass of water?”

“Thank you. I think I swallowed enough dust for a medium-size desert.”

I led the way to the kitchenette where two barstools framed a napkin-size bistro table, three glass-door cabinets served for storage, a tiny sliver of a window above them blessed the small space with natural light.

“Tap water. Sorry. Nothing but the basics.”

“Tap water is fine.”

We washed our hands. When I strained to reach the glasses in the middle cabinet above the sink, Bram reached above my head, taking one glass down, and then another. He smelled like office supplies, which was pretty much my favorite smell. Under different circumstances, I might have been tempted to sink back against all that printer-paper-and-new-eraser-smelling warmth and hard chest.

Trey and I had broken up a month before, but we hadn’t been together together a lot longer than that. I didn’t miss the sex, but I missed touching, human connection, warm skin. Anyway, I didn’t sway against Bram, because…platinum wedding band.

“How is business?” he asked as we sat. “Violet told me about Ludington’s.”

I wished she’d told me about him. He wouldn’t have taken me by surprise. “It’s great.”

I needed to hang on to some shred of my dignity. I looked my worst—the ghost of chimney sweeps past. I wasn’t going to tell him that my boyfriend had left me for my best friend, and that I was desperate for money. I didn’t want those gray eyes to turn soft with pity. “Business is business. I know I don’t sound overly enthusiastic, but it’s just…”

“You miss Violet.”

“Yes.”

“The pain gets better.”