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He looked over his shoulder. “No thanks needed.”
“I disagree.”
She walked slowly toward him, her heart pounding. “Pops thinks you walk on water.”
Cal smirked. “I’m only doing dishes.”
Steph leaned against the counter close to him. “Among other things …” Then she stifled a yawn.
“You should take a nap,” Cal said, rinsing off the suds from his hands. “Maybe I will, too.”
“Sorry I don’t have more than the couch to offer you.”
“It’s fine, really.” He grabbed a dish towel and dried his hands. “You go and I’ll finish up in here.”
“You’re spoiling me too much,” she said, wondering if she was getting way too comfortable with all this friend-zone stuff. “I’m going to get used to it.”
“Fine with me.” Cal nudged her away. “See you later.”
She smirked. “Fine.” Steph headed down the hallway again, and before she settled on her bed, she silenced her phone. She didn’t know if she’d be able to nap in the middle of the day—it would be a novelty.
But somehow she fell asleep, and when Cal tapped on her bedroom door, it took her a moment to remember all that had gone on.
She pushed up on her elbows. “Is Pops okay?”
“He’s fine,” Cal said from the doorway, clearly keeping himself out of her bedroom. “We’re getting ready for the barbecue, and I didn’t know how much time you needed.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost five o’clock.”
Steph stifled a yawn. “Okay, thanks for waking me. I can’t believe I slept.” She met his dark eyes, which were taking in the whole of her and her bed. “Did you sleep?”
“No, but I got some work done, so it’s fine.”
Steph climbed off the bed and smoothed back her hair. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah,” Cal said. “I don’t have any real commitments until Monday, when I have a conference call with a new client.”
“Dagnammit,” a voice sailed from somewhere in the house. “This thing isn’t working.”
“What’s he doing?” Steph asked.
“We were making dessert.”
“Oh, dessert.” She hurried past him into the hallway. “I forgot.”
Cal grasped her arm. “It’s fine. We’re almost done.”
Something clattered on the floor in the direction of the kitchen.
“Or not,” he said, moving with Steph along the hallway.
They arrived in the kitchen to see Pops standing above a bowl that had splattered dark batter all over the floor.
“Brownies?” Steph guessed.
“Used to be,” Pops grumbled. He bent to pick up the bowl, and both Cal and Steph rushed forward.
