He eyed the box. “How many more do you need?”

“As many as we can muster. We have volunteers working on other ornaments, but the Butterflies and I usually make the snowflakes.” She began unpacking the bagged items for the soup she was going to throw together before settling in to cut canvas. “You want to help?”

“Make ornaments?” His expression suggested she might have sniffed too many paint fumes the night before.

She hadn’t expected him to say yes, but him looking like she’d asked him to do something impossible was too funny to let go. “What? Don’t tell me you aren’t as handy with a pair of scissors as you are with a hammer.”

He gave her a skeptical look. “You’ve never seen me use a hammer.”

“I’ve seen the changes taking place in my house, so you must be doing something right.”

Like how at times, he seemed to relax.

He still didn’t smile much, but he did smile. Mostly when talking to Harry, but she managed to get a smile out of him here and there.

Bodie smiling was a beautiful thing. He really should consider doing so more often.

“You’re quiet,” he pointed out a little later as he walked to the island sink and washed his hands.

“Just making dinner. I’m glad you don’t mind being my guinea pig on all these recipes.”

“Being fed home-cooked meals? I’ll risk being your guinea pig.” He turned, eyed her with blue eyes that saw straight into her. “You’re not usually quiet while you cook.”

Yep, he thought she talked too much.

“You’re not usually in here with me while I cook,” she countered, looking away from his intent gaze. He’d only been there a week, but having him in the house felt right. She hadn’t admitted it to herself, but from the point she’d moved out of her dad’s home and into Hamilton House, the house had felt lonely. Probably because Aunt Jean wasn’t there. Soon enough, she’d fill the walls with paying guests, with love and laughter.

“Maybe not, but I hear you singing.”

“You got something against Christmas carols?” Glancing Bodie’s way, she wrinkled her nose. She did sing while she cooked. While she did a lot of things.

He shook his head.

“Good. We need more carolers for Christmas Eve. I’ll add your name to my list.”

“That escalated fast. I’m not going Christmas caroling, Sarah. If all goes well, I won’t be in Pine Hill at that point.”

Because he’d have finished his work—which meant he would be gone. That shouldn’t bother her. She wanted him to finish… but having him around was nice.

She turned and gave him a smile. “Since you never said you weren’t helping with the ornaments, does that mean you’re going to keep me from being up all night doing them by myself?”

His expression was dubious. “You’d be better off putting a hammer in my hand rather than putting me to work crafting.”

“But you’re willing to learn?” she pushed, wanting him to help, although not sure if it was the prospect of his company or an extra set of hands that motivated her.