Page 32 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

She wasn’t wrong. When he’d moved, Aunt Deborah had brought over everything she’d thought he might need and a whole bunch of stuff he’d still never used.

Aspen filled the basket with utensils and gadgets and dishcloths and plates and silverware and bowls…it went on and on.

While she shopped, she checked items off in an ever-present notebook. He’d thought she was finished when she said, “Oh!” and headed in another direction.

He took the first basket, which she’d already filled, to leave by the register and grabbed a second.

After she loaded it up, she looked up at him with a wide smile. “That’s almost everything I need besides furniture, food, and a few small appliances.”

He checked his watch. “Record time.”

“Ha. You wanna talk records, wait until you see the tally.”

A woman who could get that much shopping done in a half hour—and save money to boot.

She was getting more attractive by the minute.

“I’m gonna take this up front.” He wiggled the basket handle. “The furniture’s right…” But she’d already started heading that way.

When he returned, he found Aspen in front of a dingy brown sofa. An ugly, dingy brown sofa.

She glanced at him. “Is this too big?”

“Do you like it?” He hadn’t meant his incredulous tone.

“It’s dreadful, which probably accounts for the price.”

The giant yellow sticker—almost covering a pink sticker, and a blue sticker beneath—indicated it had been marked down more than once. He could see why. Not only was the color awful, but it was stained and… He bent toward it. “It smells.”

“But the price.”

He took her elbow and guided her toward a gently used off-white sectional. “What about this one?”

“It’s twice as much.”

Only because Trudy was practically paying someone to take the other off her hands. “I thoughtIwas cheap.”

“I’m not cheap. I’m just trying to be wise, you know. I don’t want to make any crazy decisions.”

He studied the better sofa. No stains that he could see on the fabric. No tears. He turned over the dangling price tag. “This is an excellent brand. It’ll last for years, and it’ll look great in the space.”

“I’m not going to live here for years. I need to be rational.”

“Okay.” Hands on her shoulders, he shifted her back to the brown sofa. “Go lie down on that thing, rest your pretty hair against the fabric, take a deep breath—in through your nose—and then decide.”

She took a few steps toward it and stopped, giving him a sheepish look. “I see what you mean.”

He chuckled and yelled, “She’s taking the white sectional.”

Trudy called back, “Got it.”

He looked down at Aspen. “What else?”

“You’re satisfied with yourself, aren’t you?”

He wasn’t lying when he said, “This is the first time I’ve ever enjoyed shopping.”

She smiled and moved along.

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