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“What did Erin do that reminded you of Jamie?” he asked quietly, trying to help and hoping he wasn’t making more of a mess of it.
She immediately stiffened though, which didn’t give him much hope. “It’s just this little smile he has.”
“When?”
“When he’s pleased with himself.” Her words grew thick. “Jamie used to smile like that when I was on the floor and he’d thrown me there. Or if…” Her words cut off, and she sucked in a sharp breath. “But that’s the past. I shouldn’t be thinking about this stuff.”
“Why? Why shouldn’t you?” he asked her quietly.
“What do you mean?” she questioned, pulling back to frown up at him.
“I mean, it happened to you, didn’t it? Why shouldn’t you hash over it? I know I do. When I have a meeting, I can be hashing over it for days. And then, next year, if I deal with the same people, I think back to that other meeting… Why shouldn’t you? Those events happened, they’re memories. You can’t just erase them because they’re horrible.”
She blinked at him. “You don’t think I should just pretend…”
“What? Pretend it didn’t happen?” He shook his head, and as he sighed, he tucked another stray lock behind her ear. “No. I don’t. It happened, accept it, accept that you can’t change what happened, but you very much have a say in the future.”
Her eyes were glassy as she stared up at him. “Thank you, Josh.”
He grimaced. “For what? I’m the Ice King, Samantha. I’m not the best person to be talking about these things to.”
She scowled at that. “No. I won’t have that. You’re exactly who I need to be talking to about these things.” Then, sucking in a sharp breath, she squeezed him harder, then released him. “Thank you.”
He shook his head. “There’s no need to thank me.”
She turned to face him, a smile, though sad, curving her lips.
“What?” he asked, unable to stop himself.
“It doesn’t matter,” she told him, but that smile was still there when she returned to the fresh produce.
“Sam,” he said with a growl.
Her smile widened. “Do you know that’s the first time you’ve called me Sam?”
He sighed. “You’re being difficult on purpose.”
“You love me for it,” she teased, tapping a coconut this time, and though he knew she was only joking, he feared she was right.
He did love her for it.
It being the myriad ways in which she’d grabbed a hold of his heart and his head and made them both hers.
Wincing at the sappy thought, he decided a change of subject was imperative. “You really love all this, don’t you?”
She cocked a brow at him. “All this? Being, what? Eating?” She let out a little laugh, and it was in such contrast to her sadness of mere moments before that relief swilled through him. “Yeah, I’m rather fond of not starving.”
He smirked at her. “You know exactly what I mean. Cooking. You don’t have to cook and yet you do. A lot.” He was astonished by how much she cooked if he was being honest. He paid people to cook for him and they made less food than she did.
“It relaxes me,” she said with a shrug. “Plus, I get a kick out of knowing where everything comes from.”
“Hence the organic store?”
A militant gleam appeared in her eye. “Do you know the carbon footprint of food from the big chains?”
His lips twitched. “No, I don’t, but feel free to tell me. Or I’ll get my PA to clue me in.”
She squinted at him. “You’re mocking me.”
