He unlocked the carriage-house door and pushed it open, set the bag inside, and turned back to me with a smile. “How are you? I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
I made a face. “Oh, I’m just working on a book proposal. I get kind of scatterbrained when that happens. Need to focus.”
“Ah.”
“I just wanted to remind you that the exterminator is coming next week.” It wasn’t true; he wasn’t due again until next month, but it was all I could think of in the moment. I would just pretend, if asked about it, that he’d come when Peyton wasn’t home.
“Thanks.” He turned to go inside.
“Are you working tonight?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Off tonight, finally. I’ve been on for eight nights, finally have a night off.”
“Any plans?”
“I was thinking about going out, maybe getting drunk, get laid
