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“Yes. Your stuff.” She tugged at the hair tie holding all that hair up into a messy pile on top of her head. “Does it give you a sense of control to change something that was working perfectly well?”
“Control has nothing to do with it.”
She set her chin on her fist and studied my face. “Hmm.”
“No need to psychoanalyze.” I snapped my laptop shut. “I just moved the coffee mugs above the coffee maker. Anyone who thinks about logistics would’ve done the same thing.”
Charlotte arched an eyebrow. “Is this your superpower? I’m so jealous.”
I gave her a long look.
She grinned and lifted the mug back up to her mouth. “You know,” she said, setting it down again, “the mugs did make sense in the pantry.”
“How so?”
“The height on those shelves is shorter, so there was less wasted space.” She tilted her head to the cabinets. “Now you need to find a new place for the mixing bowls, don’t you?”
I narrowed my eyes, and finally, she took a slow sip of her coffee. If the mug hadn’t been blocking her face, I would’ve seen a giant fuck-you smile on those pink lips.
Because we had nothing to do until my builder interview the next day, I found myself antsy. I stood from the table. “I’ll find a better place for the bowls later.”
“I’m sure,” she muttered.
“I’m going for a run.”
I was lying. It would be a slow walk, but she didn’t need to know that.
Charlotte’s gaze locked on to my knee. “Are you supposed to be going for a run?”
“Who told you?”
The mug froze an inch away from her mouth again. “Richard.”
My eyes never wavered from hers, and behind my ribs, my heart tripped on a tumbling beat. “Your boyfriend?”
What kind of name was Richard? It sounded old. Hell, maybe hewasold. She liked decrepit, falling-down relics, so maybe Charlotte had herself a seventy-year-old man to go with her two-hundred-year-old house obsession.
I had to force myself to unclench my jaw.
Charlotte smiled. “My aunt Daphne’s live-in non-boyfriend boyfriend.”
My shoulders relaxed. And, fuck, I hoped she hadn’t noticed. “I—”
She waved a hand in the air. “Don’t even try to understand it. I think they’re at common-law marriage status after ten years together, but she’s weird about labels.” Charlotte grinned. “The handcuffs were theirs.”
“So glad I know that.”
At my dry tone, she laughed.
I heard that laugh in my head the entire time I walked. Five miles, and my pace was so glacial that I hardly paid attention to where I was going until I ended up in the downtown area of Traverse City.
The stores and restaurants had the clean, tidy look of a tourist town that knew what it was doing. And with the endless stretches of water that seemed to be everywhere, I could only imagine how busy this place got in the summer and fall.
It was busy now, with the weather warming up after a solid turn into spring. I stopped in front of an ice cream shop and found awooden bench. My knee was screaming, but the warmth in my muscles felt good.
“Burke.”
My eyes popped open. Charlotte stood next to the bench, big black sunglasses covering her eyes, a bright blue handkerchief wrapped around her head to keep flyaway red hair out of her face.
