Page 8 of Breaking Rules

Garvin made the coffee, and they both dug into the pie.

“Lordy, this is delicious.” Garvin dug his fork into the golden sugar-sprinkled crust. “Been a while since I had anything homemade.”

“My sister made it. She’s getting to be an excellent cook. That’s sort of one of the reasons I want to buy the cottage,” Jo ventured.

Garvin’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Jo wondered if she’d crossed the line, but then, he smiled. “Tell me more about why you want to own that property.”

“I’ve really made it my own, you know,” she began, her eyes brightening with enthusiasm. “I’ve picked up furniture from yard sales. Each piece has its own story and was bought to fit in a specific place in the cottage.”

Garvin listened, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he took a bite of the pie. “Sounds like you’ve put a lot of work into it.”

Jo nodded, gesturing animatedly as she described her efforts. “And the porch! I’ve put up window boxes full of flowers. You should come by and see them in summer.” Her voice softened, a wistful tone creeping in. “It’s quiet, serene. The stream out back adds just that right touch on quiet nights. And it’s the perfect size for me.”

Garvin’s eyes followed her gestures, his expression one of understanding. “I haven’t been there in a long time, but it is a nice spot, that’s for sure.”

Jo’s gaze drifted, picturing her cherished space. “It’s become more than just a house to me. And now, with my sister staying, it’s even more important. It’s our sanctuary, a place that truly feels like ours. There’s even a stray kitten in the woods we’ve been feeding.”

Garvin frowned, and Jo, remembering his strict rule about not having pets, hurried to say, “But don’t worry, we’re not having it inside or anything.”

Garvin nodded thoughtfully, absorbing her words. His smile was warm but held a hint of reluctance. “I can see why you love it so much,” he admitted. “But I still don’t know about selling. It’s a big decision.”

Jo reached out and touched his arm. “I understand. Don’t worry. I’m not going to pressure you. I have enjoyed talking to you, though.”

“Does that mean you’ll stop by again?” Garvin looked hopeful.

“I sure will. Maybe next time, I’ll even bring dinner.”

After leaving Garvin’s house, Jo returned home, her thoughts still lingering on their conversation. Pulling into the driveway of the cottage always made her feel good. The yard was covered in a twinkling blanket of snow. Bridget had put white fairy lights along the porch and shrubs, which made the place look even more cozy. Snow glistened on the boughs of the stately pines in the forest behind the house.

Pickles, the marmalade-striped stray cat they’d been feeding, was on the porch. He lay curled up in the box they had set up for him, now lined with blankets to ward off the chill. Despite the cold, Pickles remained steadfast in his reluctance to venture inside the house.

“Hey there, Pickles,” Jo murmured, reaching out to gently stroke his fur.

The cat, in response, leaned into her touch, his purring a soft, comforting sound in the quiet evening.

“Don’t worry, buddy. Garvin’s warming up to the idea,” she whispered, half to Pickles, half to herself, harboring hope for her purchase of the cottage.

Bridget was in the kitchen. Jo smelled something delicious cooking as usual.

“How did it go with Garvin?” Bridget asked, eager for an update.

Jo shrugged off her coat, settling down at the kitchen table. “It went well, I think. He’s still undecided about selling, but I feel like we made a connection. Gave him the pie, talked about the cottage. He’s considering it. What are you cooking? It smells fantastic.”

Bridget turned from the stove, a plate in hand. “I know you’ve had a long day, so I made you some stuffed peppers,” she announced, placing the dish in front of Jo. The peppers were beautifully prepared, their vibrant red skins slightly charred from the oven, stuffed to the brim with a savory mixture of seasoned ground meat, rice, and herbs. Steam rose from them, carrying with it the mouth-watering scent of garlic and tomato.

Jo looked at the dish, her stomach rumbling despite the fact that she wasn’t particularly hungry. “This looks amazing, but you really don’t have to go to all this trouble, especially since you already ate.”

Bridget waved away Jo’s protests with a smile. “I enjoy doing it, and I want to make sure you’re well fed. Consider it a thank-you for letting me stay here.”

Jo took a bite of the stuffed pepper, the flavors bursting on her tongue, a perfect blend of spice and comfort. It was a simple yet profound reminder of the care and love that Bridget brought into their home.

“How was your dinner with Reese?” Jo asked again, eager to hear about Bridget’s evening.

“It was great. She’s such a nice person,”

Jo nodded her agreement, her mouth too full to talk.

“She suggested I take this pastry certificate course at the college.” Bridget looked up at Jo, seeking her opinion.

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