Page 47 of Gunnar

I snatch up a dishtowel and dry each item as he passes it to me, far more thoroughly than I need to.

“What are you going to do today?” he asks.

“Thought I might go for a hike,” I shoot him a sideways glance.

His jaw tightens. “Where?”

I shrug. “Oh, just around that area you mentioned yesterday.”

“Like you were listening.”

I frown. “I was.” I was, kinda.

“You’re not going to do anything reckless, are you, Alexandria?”

I meet his gaze. “I can handle a short walk in the woods.”

His eyes stay on mine. “That’s not what I asked.”

I dry the plate in my hands again, buying myself a second.

“You think I’m going to make a run for it?”

He doesn’t answer.

The water is gushing from the faucet.

“You won’t get far,” he says at last.

I hold his gaze for a second. “Relax. I’m not going to make a break for it.”

His hand stills. “Good,” he says.

I take the wet pan, dry it a little too carefully.

“Besides,” I say, aiming for casual, “I wouldn’t even know which way to go.”

“You’d find a way,” he says.

I glance at him. “You think you know me?”

His eyes flick to mine. “I think you’re the kind of person who doesn’t just accept things as they are.”

I shrug. “Not if I can help it.”

“Figures.” He rinses the dishcloth then wrings it out. “Still—” He gives me a serious look. “Stay close.”

He wipes his hands on a towel. “Right, I’ll be out back. I’m going to take a look at the generator.”

“It’s broken?”

“Don’t know,” he says. “Never tried using it before.”

“So why⁠—?”

“Thought you’d appreciate a little home comfort.”

That boyish grin again, and while I’m still recovering, he lifts a hand in a half-wave and steps outside.