“I know.”
She looked at him with skepticism. “How would you know?”
A corner of his mouth kicked up. “You always bought lunch on fried chicken days.”
She paused to regard him, then picked up another tender. “You remember that?”
His smile bordered on boyish. “Yeah.”
She helped herself to more. She hadn’t been hungry lately, but suddenly she was ravenous. “What would you like to drink?” She bent to open the small under-counter refrigerator. “I have Stella, White Claw lemon and mango, Pellegrino—”
“Got any Dr Pepper?” He grinned.
Wow. What else did he remember? She grinned back in spite of herself. “I do.”
“I’ll take that if you have one for me.”
She pulled out two cans and slid one over to him, watching as he popped the tab and tipped back his head to take several gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow.
The sun had sunk low on the horizon, painting the sky and lake in lavender, pink, and gold. The breeze picked up, and Jannie shivered, but she wasn’t sure it had anything to do with the dropping temperature.
“Your clothes should be done, and your shoes are drying. The laundry room is at the end of the hallway to the garage. Go past Rolf’s crate, and you’ll see it to the left.” She smiled. “You can’t miss it. There’s a tub and washboard etching on the door glass that says,laundry.”
“The laundry room is labeled?”
“Yes. So is the pantry.”
“What else?”
“Whatever needs to be organized.”
A tiny smile. “Everything has to be perfect for you, doesn’t it?”
She lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. “Yes.” Cleanliness and order were vital for her mental health, and lately, she’d been slipping on both.
“I get it,” was all he said, then headed inside.
No judgment, no teasing. That wasn’t what she was used to. Her childhood nickname, given by her brothers, was Freak—short for “cleanliness and control freak.” Blake also often showed exasperation over her meticulous ways. But Nick’s reaction … well, she wasn’t sure what to think.
Best not to look too much into it.
•
It took Nick a while to get dressed and come back, and Jannie realized why as soon as he stepped onto the patio: he had found the iron and board and used them. His silver captain’s wings, which she had removed and left by the laundry room sink, were now back on his left breast pocket where they belonged.
Not ogling him proved impossible. That freshly pressed shirt clung to him in all the right places, the short sleeves barely containing his bulgingbiceps, the white on navy epaulets highlighting his broad shoulders. If ever a man was born to show off a pilot uniform, it was him. Even the silly smiley-face slides, which he still wore, didn’t detract from his hotness.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
His smile warmed her to the core. “I found your ironing supplies. I even found spray starch and a steamer. You weren’t kidding when you said you organize everything. I’m impressed.” He ran a hand over his shirt front, glancing down appreciatively. “How did you get this so white?”
Oh, he appreciated that. Her cheeks flushed with pleasure. “Laundry sheets specifically for whites. From Germany.”
“I’ll have to get some. This shirt didn’t look like this even when it was new.”
“I can give you a box. They’re kind of hard to find. I have Adam bring me some whenever he flies to Munich.” The intensity of his gaze made her wrap her arms around herself.
