Where is this sudden interrogation coming from? “Ichoseto come back.”
“Because of your mother’s illness.”
“That’s—that’s irrelevant. I love being a Farewitch. It’s not a chore.”
“You’ll hate it before you’re forty if that’s the only way you spend your days.”
Thenerve. “Don’t lecture me.”
His voice lowers. “I lecture youbecauseI’m older.”
I whirl to face him, hip propped against the sink. A slap of my palm shuts off the faucet. “Are you really telling meto listen to my elders?” I’ve had enough of this.
So has he. Before I can move, his hands are braced against the lip of the sink on either side of my waist. My entire world is suddenly the space between his arms and chest. I stuff my hands into my apron pockets, not sure what they would do if I let them free.
“I spent my youth like you, hunting obsessively for solutions I thought I could will into existence,” he rasps. “I ran ragged. Don’t make my mistake.”
“Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of watching out just for myself. I have my mom to think about, her health and the Apothakery.”
“Having a job doesn’t replace having a life.”
“What doesthatmean?”
His voice sharpens, feeling like fingernails on my skin. “You don’t sleep. I hear you at all hours of the night. The Manor echoes with you, constantly. It’smaddening.” His eyes drop to my mouth, and that one small look sends my pulse racing. “Then, you never rest. Even your relaxation is productive.”
“Looking up recipesispeaceful for me.”
His eyes work down my form and back up, and yup, I’m suddenlyvery much anti–tall men. “And you don’t eat. You’re thinner than when you arrived.”
My face goes hot with… withsomething. Fury. Embarrassment. This man tenderly fed me a tomato fifteen minutes ago.Tenderly.
“Of all the ridiculous—I’m a Farewitch! I eat plenty. I’ve just been stressed.Everyoneis stressed. We’re trying to save multiple lives, remember? So forgive me if I’m just not hungry. I’ll eat once I’ve accomplished what I need to do. I don’t like to break my concentration.”
“You can’t go through life treating food as a reward. You’re not a dog. As much as Lazlo might prefer that.”
My skin buzzes with the urge to flee, but only animals on the defense retreat. “I’m trying to run a businessandtake care of a parent. I am an only child, an only daughter. I. Am. Busy.” I enunciate each word.”
“And do you ever finish the list of things you have to do?”
Irrelevant. “I enjoy something I want when I’ve earned it. That’s how I stay motivated, and that’s how I appreciate something inpeace. And—and you’re my employer! You don’t get to offer advice on my health.”
His next words are startlingly soft. “But as your friend, I do, and I think you’ve gotten too used to starving yourself.”
“Excuse me?” Blood whooshes in my ears. “Do you want me here or not?”
“Do I—” He runs an agitated hand over his face, like he can’t decide if this should be a lecture or a scolding and I’m making the choice difficult.
“You know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t care.” I can’t think when I’m tucked in his body space like this. My hands spring free of my apron and push against his chest. “Move.”
He steps away, no questions asked. “Ms. Frost, you know very well I don’t have the energy to fight with you. Quite literally.”
Before I can feel disappointed his body heat is gone, I point to the door. “Then get out, because I feel like fighting.”
“It’smyhouse.”
“It’smykitchen.”
He throws up his hands in defeat. “Yes, ma’am.” Then he’s gone.
