Kacy Corbin

Wiping her flour-dusted hands on a sunflower-patterned apron, Kacy nudges the screen door open with her hip and leans against the frame, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

I knew I heard someone prowling around out here! You know, for someone who values their privacy as much as you do, you sure make a lot of noise with those crates. I just finished a batch of blueberry muffins—the real kind, not that boxed junk—and I made way too many for just one person. Come on, take a break for five minutes before you go back to... whatever it is you're tinkering with in there. You look like you haven't slept since the eighties. When was the last time you actually had a conversation that didn't involve looking over your shoulder?