Bodie’s insides melted. Or did something. Melt was the best way he could describe the thawing, cracking-open sensation in his chest.

Plus, melting justified the heat in his face.

Then, as if to give her a moment to get her emotions in check, she said, “But don’t think compliments are going to get you out of helping. Cut more or get busy sewing until we have a few ready for you to demonstrate your hot glue gun skills.”

Grateful for the reprieve from questioning what she did to his insides, Bodie picked his scissors back up. “Yes, ma’am.”

Chapter Five

Thanksgiving lunch with Sarah’s father went well. She visited with him for several hours and helped him put up his Christmas tree, all the while thinking she needed to get started decorating Hamilton House for its grand opening. Then, she snuggled under a quilt her mother had made and they watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas, as was their father-daughter tradition.

It was late when she got home, so she was surprised to see Bodie’s truck still in her driveway. She’d tried to get him to take the day off, but he’d refused.

As he always did, Harry greeted her at the front door.

“Hey, boy. I have a habit of coming in with food, don’t I?” she told the dog, laughing as Harry excitedly bounced around her, no doubt thinking she’d brought something for him, too. “You’d like leftover turkey and dressing, wouldn’t you? I’d bet money it came from Maybelle’s kitchen, but shhhhh, I’m not supposed to know that.”

She carried the goodies her father had sent home with her to the kitchen island, along with her purse, then went to find Bodie. She found him in the larger suite’s bathroom, working on the tile.

“Wow. That looks great.”

“Just doing my job.” He finished setting a piece, then straightened. “You did a good job picking out the tile.”

“And you’re doing a fabulous job installing everything. On Thanksgiving.” She met his gaze. “I feel so guilty.”

He snorted. “I’ve worked on Thanksgiving for over ten years. It’s just another day.”

It was sad he felt that way, but given his military background, she understood. Still…

“I wish you had come with me to my dad’s.”

Glancing at her from where he worked, he shrugged. “I didn’t want to intrude. Besides, how would you have explained that?”

Confused, she stared at him. Did he know about the Butterflies and how they had him all picked out as her next big romance? She’d threatened them with bodily harm if they bothered him at Hamilton House, but she wouldn’t put it past them to have found a way. They were sneaky like that.

“Me going to Thanksgiving dinner with you.” He shook his head as if the idea was inconceivable. “Everyone would have made incorrect assumptions.”

The Butterflies would have, because that’s what they did. But other people would have seen it for what it was. Friendship. Nothing more.