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“What do you mean ‘not yet?’”
He suddenly straightens, his features turning slightly panicked. What is he talking about? He shakes his head, and I can already tell he’s about to clam up on me.
I step closer to him, unable to resist the invisible pull I feel every time I’m around him. This is more than that though. I also want to comfort him. “Hey, don’t do that. Talk to me. You can trust me, Andrew.”
He scrubs his hands down his face and looks back up to me. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”
A mask of indifference slides into place, distracting me from his handsome features. I sigh, knowing I won’t get any answers from him. He’s so fucking cryptic. It really gets on my nerves.
I turn back to the dough, beating it and folding it like it did me wrong. Andrew doesn’t leave like I thought he would. Instead, he continues to stand and watch. Normally, I would kick him out. I don’t like someone watching me work, but with him, it’s different.
I find his presence soothing. I enjoy his masculine scent invading my nose and his quiet demeanor surrounding me. If he doesn’t want to talk right now, fine. I will.
“Did you know I’m an only child?”
“No, I didn’t.”
If he seems surprised by the random conversation, he doesn’t show it.
I nod. “Yep, my parents were a little older. They love to travel, hopping from one adventure to the next. When I came along, all that slowed them down a little.”
He grabs a handful of strawberries sitting out, popping one in his mouth as he settles his hip against the counter. He may not be saying much, but he’s listening for sure.
I smile as I continue. “Kind of hard to sail and climb mountains with a baby strapped to your hip.”
It never bothered me. I love my parents, and I enjoyed some aspects of my childhood, but their lifestyle wasn’t one I wanted for myself.
“That must have been hard on you.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Yes and no. I got to experience things most kids never do, but it was hard not really having a home base. Somewhere to go back to, to reset and recharge.”
“What did you do about school?” He pops another strawberry in his mouth, and I slide over a muffin I made earlier this morning. He eyes it a second. “Did you make it?”
“Yes, why?”
He snatches it up and tears the wrapper off before answering around a mouthful of muffin. “Because I don’t trust Andrea’s cooking.”
I bark out a laugh. “She’s gotten pretty good with some of this, actually.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it, and I’ll definitely still be doing all the cooking while I’m here.”
The muffin is gone in two bites max, so I slide another one over to him. He grabs it and immediately unwraps that one.
I snort a laugh. “Oh, yes. I remember how territorial you can be.”
Mentioning it makes me think back to when Irene got married. I was supposed to do all the cooking, but Andrew came into town for the event and offered to help. Well, we couldn’t agree on shit. He was demanding and unwilling to compromise on how we should cook the meat.
I told him those were my meat babies, and he was supposed to be helping me! Not the other way around.
“Yes, you and your precious meat babies. And you call me the territorial one. I think we made a pretty good team. You know, once you stopped calling and texting me every two seconds.”
I scoff. “I didn’t stop. You just stopped responding.”
He shrugs. “Same difference.”
I laugh, and he looks over, smirking at me about the time he infuriated me. I was so caught up in how mad Andrew made me that I failed to see he’s actually a pretty good cook. I look over to find him watching me, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“What are you smiling about?” I ask.
