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He was almost down the hall, feeling bad, when his dogs caught up to him, one on either side, and he heard footsteps behind him.
He stopped and turned as he was about to walk into the dining room. She came down the hall, and he expected to see at least irritation on her face, if not outright anger, but she walked just as smoothly as she always had, with a small smile on her face. Her brows rose when she saw that he stopped and looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
That made her smile widen a little, but she lifted her shoulder, and there was no recognition entering her eyes, no acknowledgment that he owed her an apology.
“For what?” she asked, tilting her head, truly looking like she had no idea what he was talking about.
It was tempting to say nothing and just turn away. But that would make him feel like he was taking advantage of her. She was being kind, and he was just repaying that with grumpiness.
That wasn’t the way life was supposed to work.
Of course, he was the expert in knowing that life didn’t work the way it was supposed to.
“I should have waited for you. It was childish of me to walk out in front of you.”
“I just figured you were hungry.” She grinned. “I am too, but I know I made enough for both of us, so I wasn’t too worried about it.”
“I’ve shared my sandwiches with you.”
“I’ve noticed that yours are bigger than mine.”
“Seriously?!”
She just raised her brows, like she wasn’t going to argue with him, but she knew she was right.
“Fine. Next time I make sandwiches, I’ll bring a measuring tape in along with them.”
“All right. You do that.” She pursed her lips. “I have witnesses.” She looked at his dogs, as though they would know.
“The dogs are on my side. They’re my dogs.”
“Of course they are,” she said, sounding like she meant the exact opposite.
“Why did I call you to the kitchen? I could eat this entire thing myself.”
“I thought that’s what you were on the way to do. After all, you did leave me hanging in the library while you practically ran out.”
“Fine. You go first.”
“You know, when someone has a reputation like yours, and then all of a sudden you start letting people eat first? It makes people feel like maybe you poisoned their food.” She wrinkled her nose at him as she swept by, striding through the dining room and on into the kitchen while he followed more slowly, bemused.
Far from being scared off, she acted like she was comfortable with him. Like his gruff exterior didn’t mean anything.
It was a bit of a new experience, since it had been so long since anyone, other than Dwight, had seen past the scars on his face, and the attitude that went with them, and took the time to see that there might be someone, a human, under it after all.
And not using pity, or even compassion, but humor, and just casual conversation. Treating him like he was normal.
He’d almost forgotten how good it felt.
By the time he strode into the kitchen, she was opening up cupboard doors, and when he walked in, she threw over her shoulder, “Where are you hiding your plates?”
“Above the dishwasher, where normal people put them.”
“Really?” she said, sounding surprised that the plates might go by the dishwasher. But she didn’t give him time to lecture her on proper plate placement in kitchen cupboards because she spoke immediately. “This is a gorgeous kitchen. Everything you need right at your fingertips.” She pulled out two plates and paused with her hand on the cupboard door. “Are these the ones you’re using?”
“They’ll work just as good as any other ones will,” he said, his voice rougher than it needed to be. It just seemed like such a normal thing to do, to stand in the kitchen getting plates out, getting ready to sit down to eat together.
