Chapter 13It took a couple hours of Asher attacking the tall grass with the trimmer, and me following with the rake, collecting and dumping all the clippings on the old compost, before we were done. We brought the gear back to the garage where we cleaned it and put it back in its place. I took the opportunity to wash my hands in the sink and dunked my head under the faucet, rinsing away the sweat of the physical labor.
Two warm hands gripped my waist from behind as I dried off and pulled me close. I turned off the water and leaned back into Asher’s embrace. He circled my waist and hugged me tight.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Now I am,” he rumbled.
“I’m here for you.”
“Oh, Cinnamon Boy. I know.”
“Cinnamon Boy?”
“Anyone can be ‘honey.’ Only you can be Cinnamon Boy.”
My heart skipped a
