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“I think we’ve established that already.”
He chuckled and pointed with the spatula. “Sit. You want OJ or cranberry?”
There were two empty glasses set on the table. “OJ. But I’ll get it.”
Rafe finished plating our food while I poured the drinks. It felt nice, moving around a kitchen with someone. My mom and I had cooked together all the time. My emotions were definitely all over the place because the simple moment got me a little choked up.
We sat down at the table, and I sniffled back threatening tears and dabbed at my eyes with a napkin. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me.”
“What’s the matter?”
“I just…” I shook my head. “I miss cooking with my mom. Or maybe I just miss my mom in general.”
“It’s okay.” His voice was soft. “You don’t have to hold it in. Cry, if you need to. I’ve got a solid supply of toilet paper and a dry shoulder.”
I laughed a little through the emotion. “Free food and toilet paper. What more could a girl ask for?”
“Eat.” He smiled. “That’ll make you feel better.”
I took a bite. “Damn. This is really good.”
He grinned. “See? Always trust the guy who smashes glass for a living.”
“That’s still the strangest job description I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s not strange. It’s therapeutic.” He shrugged. “People pay good money to toss an ax at the wall. I get paid to take a hammer and make art.”
I considered that. “You don’t actually seem like a very stressed person.”
“I get it all out instead of bottling it up.” He caught my eyes. “Do you?”
I hesitated. “Not really.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged, picking at my food with the fork. “I don’t know. I guess I try to keep things easy.”
“How’s that working for you?”
I smiled. “Not as well as I pretend it does?”
He nodded. No judgment. No quick fix. Just listening.
“Have you talked to Calder about any of it?”
I shook my head again. “He’s so stressed with work. I don’t want to add to it.”
“What about your mom?”
“I don’t want to worry her.”
His eyes moved back and forth between mine. “If you carry everything alone to protect people, it keeps them from loving you in the ways you actually need.”
My throat tightened. “Maybe you’re right.”
He winked. “Get used to it. I’m always right.”
We shared a smile and continued eating in comfortable silence until Rafe finished his food.
