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Peeking at her, he found her staring into the pantry. “It was nothing,” he said gruffly.
She stepped inside the small pantry, disappearing from view. Then she poked her head out, a smile hinting at her lips. “You bought chocolate chips.”
“I did.”
“Are you going to make cookies, too?”
He shook his head. “I don’t bake.”
“But you said—”
“I said, I cook. I don’t bake. Two different things.”
This time, her smile stretched a little wider. “Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds? It’s all chemistry, isn’t it? The mixing of ingredients and putting them in certain conditions to create a delicious reaction.”
He chuckled in spite of himself. “Fine, I’ll admit it. I can make cookies, but only because I have several siblings.” Mason pointed at the pantry with the tongs he had in hand. “But I’m not doing a thing with those chocolate chips. I’m here for meals only because I’m helping your uncle with the day-to-day stuff. I’m not a housekeeper or a chef.”
“But you’re cooking right now…” There was a teasing lilt to her voice and the sparkle had returned to her eyes. She looked almost like an otherworldly creature, and it made him pause a moment too long. She stiffened, staring wide-eyed behind him. “Is the pan supposed to be smoking?”
Mason spun around, removing the pan he’d been working with from the heating element. Thankfully, most of the chicken had been removed and only two tenders had been slightly overcooked.
When he glanced back in Harley’s direction, she’d disappeared back into the pantry. That had to be the most normal conversation they’d shared.
It had been… nice.
Mason’s focus lingered on the door to the pantry, willing her to make another appearance so he could see that smile again. When she didn’t, he turned back to the task at hand. The salad was already in the fridge and ready to go. The chicken was hot, crisp, and smelled like heaven. The only thing left to do was pull out the baked potatoes from the oven. By the time he’d dished up the food for Vern and taken it to him, Harley was seated at the table and waiting for him.
He took his own seat, but before he could dig in, she held out her hands across the table. Mason stared at them, his brow furrowed. She wanted him to hold her hand? Had she lost her mind?
Harley let out a laugh. “Don’t you say grace?”
Mason replied, “Sure, but we didn’t say grace at breakfast. Nor did we say it that day you bombarded me at my home. I didn’t think it was something you did.”
She shrugged. “There’s more to me than you might realize. I suppose I’ve been avoiding that part of my upbringing.”
“Why?” He shouldn’t have blurted the question, but it was too late to take it back.
Harley nibbled on her lower lip. “I suppose part of it was out of spite. My mother was the one who always insisted on it. But the other part was because I didn’t feel like God would want to hear from me.”
He studied her for a moment, letting her words sink in. He believed in God. He’d go to church occasionally. But never once had he thought along those similar lines. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
She offered him a wan smile. “Sometimes. It makes you wonder, you know. How someone so perfect could still love someone… like me.” Before he could argue with her, she lifted her hands again. “Come on. The food is getting cold. Might as well start some good habits, right?”
“Right,” he murmured.
16
Harley
Harley ate quietly, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. She didn’t know what prompted her to say any of that stuff to Mason. He probably thought she had done so in order to make him think more highly of her.
And why would that matter?
Because while Mason was infuriating, he was also more genuine than any guy she’d met back home. He didn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t. Even when he was upset about her disappearance, it had been nice to realize that he was worried about her.
On top of that, he was a decent cook and he’d bought her chocolate chips. A smile stole across her face and she covered it the best she could with her glass. This had been a nice surprise. She hadn’t been looking forward to another sandwich day.
Feeling his gaze on her, she glanced up at him and then immediately regretted it. Mason was staring at her like he’d never seen a woman eat fried food before. It unnerved her the way he didn’t even bother looking away when he’d been caught.
