When they reached the end of the factory drive, Mitch turned in the opposite direction from town.
Tess sat up straighter. “Where are we going?”
“My place.” And he was grateful for it. This wasn’t the first time he’d visited Heirloom since the attack, but he was still every bit as affected, thinking about what Miranda had been through there. He needed some time to regain his equilibrium.
“I thought we were going to your office.”
“I work from home. If I have client meetings, I go to them or we meet on-site.”
“Oh.”
At the monosyllabic answer, Mitch glanced over. “Problem?”
Her eyes met his, suddenly serious. “Definitely not.”
Awareness prickled along his skin. At his place they’d finally be alone. In private. Without likelihood of interruption or nosy neighbors within sight of the hou
