“Bossy.” But there’s no heat in it.
“You like it.” I glance back in time to see her cheeks flush.
“I absolutely do not.” The protest is immediate, automatic.
But she’s kicking off the heels, sighing when her feet hit the cool floor. The sound goes straight through me—relief mixed with exhaustion mixed with something that makes my chest tight.
Focus. Food. Not the way she’s stretching her legs under my kitchen table, rolling her ankles.
“Grilled cheese?” I ask, pulling out butter, bread, cheese.
“Seriously?” She’s watching me with this expression I can’t quite read.
“What’s wrong with grilled cheese?” I set the pan on the stove, butter sizzling as it hits the heat.
“Nothing. Just… you’re making me a sandwich? Now?” Her voice is softer, uncertain. Like she can’t quite believe this is happening.
“You need to eat. I need to do something with my hands that isn’t—” I stop. Turn back to the stove.
“Isn’t what?”
Touching you. Undressing you. Finding out what other sounds you make.
“Cooking,” I finish.
She laughs. Soft. Knowing. “Right. Cooking.”
I focus on the simple task. Butter. Bread. Cheese. The familiar rhythm of something I can control while everything else spins out.
“I can’t believe you got the caterers here,” she says quietly.
My hands still. “How did you—”
“Tom told me. During cleanup. About their totaled van. You saved the entire reception.”
“He wasn’t supposed to—”
“Tell me that you drove forty minutes to rescue salmon? That you took control? That you specifically told him not to worry me?”
I flip the sandwich. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Dean.”
I turn. She’s sitting at my table, bare feet tucked under her, still in that burgundy dress that’s been murdering me all night. Hair starting to fall from whatever complicated thing she did to it. Looking at me like I’m something more than a workaholic robot.
“Thank you,” she says.
“You already thanked me. For the guitar.”
“This is different.”
“Why?”
“Because you didn’t have to. Because I never would’ve known. Because you just… fixed it.”
I plate the sandwich. Slide it across to her. “Eat.”
She takes a bite. Her eyes close. “Oh my gosh.”
