Cece took off her hat, smoothing her hair self-consciously, before stripping off her gloves. “So, the kitchen is a little warmer because I was cooking, but we can eat in the living room in front of the fire if you’re cold.”
“I never get cold,” he said.
“Ever?”
He shook his head, and she gave his body an envious look that did more to his cock than it should have. Embarrassed that just the little witch looking at him was enough to give him half a woody, he pointed to the cupboards, his voice on the gruff side. “Why don’t you have cupboard doors?”
Every cupboard in the kitchen was missing a door, and while everything in the cupboards was stacked and arranged neatly, he didn’t think it was a purposeful look to have them open.
“Oh, uh, Aunt Sybil wanted to paint the cupboards, so she and I took all the doors off,” Cece said. “The doors need to be sanded and fixed up a bit. We were going to do it, but then my aunt, she…”
She swallowed hard. “Anyway, I have all the supplies to do it, but it was my aunt who watched the videos and stuff on how to sand and prep them, so I need to research it first.”
“And the dishwasher?” His gaze fell on the new in-the-box dishwasher taking up space in an empty corner.
“The old dishwasher died last year, and my aunt found another one on sale, but she wanted to save on the cost of installing it, so she just had it delivered. We were going to install it ourselves after we finished the cupboards.”
“Have you installed a dishwasher before?” he asked.
“No, but that’s what YouTube is for, right?” she said.
He just grunted, and looking a little flustered, she reached to flip the light on in the rapidly darkening kitchen.
Briggs stared at the ceiling light. It was a brass flush-mount ceiling light with a frosted shade and, apparently, only one working light bulb, which cast a dim glow in the room.
Cece’s face was red, and, sounding embarrassed, she said, “The light bulbs need to be changed, but…”
“It’s too high for you to reach,” he said.
“No, I, um, have a stepladder, but the thingy to unscrew the shade is stuck or overtightened, maybe,” Cece said. “I can’t unscrew it, but I’m sure I just need to pick up some WD-40 or something.”
“Right,” he said.
The embarrassment still stamped into her face, Cece pointed to the table. “Have a seat.”
He sat down, staring again at her ass when she opened the oven and bent in front of it. Both her perfect ass and the thick smell of garlic toast made his bear growl happily. She straightened, placed the toast on a small platter, and set it on the table. She brought over the pasta, placing it between them before sliding into her seat.
She handed him a serving spoon. “Help yourself.”
He scooped out a plateful of pasta and took a couple of pieces of garlic toast as Cece poured them both some water from the jug on the table. She hesitated. “I have wine if that’s your preference.”
He shook his head. “I don’t drink wine. Water is fine.”
She spooned some pasta onto her plate as he took his first bite. His bear roared happily at the taste and surged forward enough to take control and practically shovel half the plate of pasta into his mouth before Briggs could wrestle back control.
He set his fork down and wiped his mouth, giving Cece a guilty look. “Sorry.”
“For what?” she asked.
“Eating so much and so quickly,” he said. “My bear likes your cooking.”
An adorable grin crossed her face. “Tell your bear I said thank you.”
They continued to eat in silence. Briggs wanted to say something, knew he should say something, but he’d never been very good at conversation. It used to drive Lucille crazy, and, according to her, it was one of the reasons she had cheated on him. His inability to share everything he was thinking, his comfort in the silence, had been a sore spot between them that they’d never been able to repair.
His back sweating at just attempting to make small talk, he said, “How long have you worked at the greenhouse?”
“Since high school,” she said before pausing awkwardly. “I’ve always loved plants, so it seemed like the perfect job for me.”
