Ash had taken to playing loud music while she sewed. The activity had soothed her more than any other since the age of twelve, but she’d done it so often, large parts of her brain were open for thinking even while she stitched together difficult pieces and types of fabric.
The music helped drown out any thoughts that might sneak in, specifically about Burke. She could keep the fabric under the needle with her eighties pop music in the background, and she got a lot more accomplished when she could just focus on the work.
“Too busy to talk for a minute?” a man yelled, making her jerk, her foot coming off the pedal but her needle still going awry. Great. Now that seam would need to be redone.
She lifted her eyes to the doorway. Burke stood there. Or a heavenly vision of him, because it cer
