“You must have been quizzing Grady about my checkered past.”
“No, I just made that up.”
“Really?” He turned around to stare at her. “You haven’t been talking to Grady or Rosie or anybody about me?”
“Scout’s honor.”
“Wow. You weren’t kidding about your imagination. Even more amazing, you nailed it, except I didn’t single-handedly take us to the championship. It was a team effort all the way. We had some awesome players that year.”
She smiled at that. Heroic and modest, too.
He faced forward again. “So what do you do with that supercharged imagination now that you’re not dreaming up love stories with some action-adventure thrown in?”
Heroic, modest and persistent. Damn. “I, um...do crafts.”
“Oh? Like what?”
She should have guessed he would ask. Quickly she reviewed the various half-finished projects tucked in her closet—knitting, embroidery, woodcarving and candle making. She’d lost interest in all of them, so she couldn’t actually claim to be doing those crafts. “This and that.”
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