Page 58

“Charli,” Lucas tries again.

“—imagine my surprise when I found the golden standard of munchies in your pantry, and⁠—”

“Charli!”

My mouth snaps closed with an audible click.

And I watch as Lucas reaches for the bag of Oreos, rips it open, and pops one in his mouth. Then he holds it out to me.

“I already told you. I want you to be comfortable in my home. What’s mine is yours, including whatever you find in my pantry. Just…” His mouth twitches with a smile. “Just do me a favor and use the overhead lights on your raids, yeah?”

Now I’m the one smothering my smile. “I guess I can do that,” I say as I take the bag from his hands.

Lucas lifts the jar of Nutella to study it curiously. “I had no idea I owned any of this stuff.”

I give him a curious look as I reach into the bag for an Oreo. “How do you not know what’s in your pantry? Didn’t you buy it?”

He shakes his head. “My housekeeper does the grocery shopping.” Then, dryly adds, “Apparently, she’s taken some creative liberties with my lists.”

I pop the Oreo in my mouth with a grin. “Good for her. She knows it’s a sin to own seaweed chips but not Oreos.”

Lucas shakes his head again, chuckling. “I can’t believe a vegetarian is shitting on my healthy snack choices. What has this world come to.” He looks back at the pantry and muses, “She must have hidden it, too. I’ve never seen it. Where did you even find it?”

“Uh, it was on the bottom shelf pushed to the back,” I admit awkwardly.

This time, Lucas doesn’t hide his grin. As he walks past me toward the pantry, he leans in close and murmurs in my ear, “See? A hibernating squirrel.”

“I prefer an ambitious seeker,” I quip, turning toward the counter as I pop another Oreo in my mouth. “And anyway, isn’t that what you hired me for?”

“Ah, touché, my little squirrel,” he calls from inside the pantry.

“Okay, that nickname isn’t allowed to stick,” I murmur.

When Lucas emerges, he’s got a strip of crackers, a can of cheese, and a PopTart in hand. “With how far back I just had to dig, it’s not as big of a stretch as I thought it would be.” Frowning, he places everything in our snack pile on the counter before turning to the fridge. “I’m pretty sure I have some fruit for that Nutella…”

I groan. “Some strawberries would be fantastic. That was going to be my second choice. If the first hadn’t—” Remembering my shameful concoction, I snap my mouth closed again.

Lucas picks up on it, of course. He peeks around the open fridge door. “What was your first choice?”

“Uh…I may or may not have…” I wince. “It’s possible I dipped a Goldfish in the Nutella. For research purposes.”

His eyebrow quirks, his gaze dropping to the bag of Goldfish. “That’s insane, Charli.”

“It’s not bad!” I defend. “At the very least, you have to try it before you judge me.”

When he comes back with a container of washed strawberries, I quickly unscrew the Nutella, dip the orange cracker in it, and hold it out to Lucas.

To my shock, he dips down and eats it right from my fingers.

I pull my hand back as if burned. Which it might as well be, if the sensation on my fingers where his lips touched me is any indication.

“It’s not terrible,” he concedes. “But it’s no strawberry dipped in Nutella.”

Then he plucks a small strawberry from the bowl, swipes it through the Nutella, and holds it up to my lips, his message clear.

For a moment, I debate going against him. I think about taking it with my fingers and feeding myself. If I ate it that way, I wouldn’t have to touch him.

Maybe it’s the late hour, maybe it’s his lack of clothes, but I’m already leaning in before I can think about my actions.