“Uh…” I trip over my words. That never happens. “I promise I’m not here to bother you, it’s just that Maybelle doesn’t have any food left, and she’s super picky about her diet, and I don’t want her to lose any more weight, and I still don’t have my car, and…” Aaron’s lips curve. I’m rambling. What is wrong with me? I clear my throat. “Would you mind letting me borrow yours again?”

He nods right away. “Yeah, of course, but there’s no pet store open on a Sunday evening in town.”

Crap. I didn’t even think about that.

I shouldn’t even be in this situation right now. I never run out of food for me or the girls. The thing is, I had planned on staying in the cabin for a few days at most. The garage wasn’t supposed to take this long to repair my car. I would never have packed less food than what Maybelle or Molly needs. This is embarrassing.

I close an eye. “Does the grocery store have a nice selection of dog food?”

He chuckles. “Not sure about that, Wren.”

No choice, then. “Okay, then I feel so bad asking you this, but do you think I could drive home with your car and bring it back later tonight?” It seems stupid to drive all this way, but the girls only eat a specific brand of food, and it is Sunday night. It’ll probably be simpler to return home than to drive from store to store in the hope of finding on that’s open and that carries their food.

Maybelle better never believe I wouldn’t do anything for her.

“Yeah, sure.” Quickly glancing down at his watch, he says, “Can you give me a minute?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

He disappears down the hallway, and I stand on the front porch with his oversized coat around my shoulders. I could technically have put mine on, but I’ve gotten used to its smell, and I don’t want to wear a coat that doesn’t smell like Christmas cookies ever again.

Martina has gone back to the kitchen, at least if my ears serve me right. I can faintly hear her and Callie speaking in the background. At some point, a deeper voice joins them.

A moment later, Aaron comes back in front of the porch, but instead of handing me the keys he went to pick up, he starts putting on his boots and coat.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He lifts an eyebrow as he puts his black hat on. “Getting ready?”

“Yes, I can see that, but for what?”

“To drive to Boston?” He looks at me like I’m the one who’s said something ridiculous.

I shake my hands in front of me. “Oh, no, please, you don’t have to. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”