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“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled.
Cass tilted her head and gave him a wry smile.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he teased.
“I want to see the outdoor kitchen.”
“Get the corn wrapped, and we’ll get the food going.”
“Yes, sir.”The aluminum foil crinkled as she wrapped it around the end of the corn.Harrison plucked leaves from the head of lettuce and put them on a plate.He got the beefsteak tomato from the basket beside the fridge, and Cass said, “Wow.Look at that tomato.”
Harrison looked at her.“Do you like them or not like them?”
“I eat them like apples.”She grinned like a kid who’d just been presented with her favorite kind of candy.“And that’s a beautiful tomato.”
He cored it and sliced off the top.He nudged it toward her with the tip of the knife.“Go ahead then.”
She picked up the slice and took a big, juicy bite.Liquid ran down her face, and she laughed as she wiped it.Harrison liked how comfortable she’d become with him, and he wondered what walls she’d had to knock down to do it.
“Wow,” he said, chuckling too.“I mean, I like tomatoes on things, but I would never just eat one like an apple.”
“You’re missing out.”She sprinkled salt and pepper on the rest of her slice and polished it off while he sliced the tomato and put those rings on the plate with the lettuce.“I’m not huge into onions, but if you like them, I have one.”
“I’m fine without them,” she said.“Have you had a hamburger with a fried egg on it?”
His eyes rounded.“Have I?Am I a human being?Of course I have.They’re fantastic.”
Cass grinned, those white teeth so dazzling.“I love a fried egg on a burger.”
“So I’m frying eggs next,” he said coyly, and she laughed.
Harrison liked the fun, flirty vibe between the two of them, but it also felt a tad bit fake.He pulled out the jar of pickles, which had already been sliced by the manufacturer.He placed the bottle on the counter, along with ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise.
He got out the carton of eggs and turned back to her.“Let’s head outside.”
“Oh, you’re going to fry the eggs outside too?”
“Yep.The kitchen is outside.”
She looked at the one he stood in.“Do you ever cook in here?”
“Uh.”He thought for a moment.“I don’t think I have, no.I brew coffee.I eat bowls of cereal.I’m not a cyborg.”
“Does your grill bake?”she asked.
“I’m not much of a baker,” he said.“Thirty minutes or less is my motto for meals.The grill is great for that.”He stepped over to the door and slid it open.“Wait for me, okay?I don’t want you to hurt yourself again.”
He hurried outside and put the carton of eggs on the shelf beside the grill and the hamburger patties on the counter.He checked the temperature on the grill, and it was nearly ready.
He turned back to the house just as Cass filled the doorway.She carried all six ears of corn in her arms, the shiny silver glinting in the evening sunlight as she hopped outside.
“I said to wait,” he said, taking the corn from her.
“It feels okay,” she said.“But I’m still puddling everywhere.”
“Let me get the food on the grill, and I’ll get the ice pack off and the ankle wrapped again.”
He did that, then hurried back inside to get a towel and another bandage.Cass had sat at his outdoor table, and she lifted her leg up onto the seat across from her so he could work on her leg.
