Page 23

“You can do the potatoes,” I say begrudgingly, since it doesn’t seem she’s going to leave me alone.

I don’t look, but I’m very aware of her as she grabs the potatoes and moves across the room to the sink.

“Roasted or baked?”

“Your choice.” When she doesn’t respond, I turn reluctantly to see her watching me with a question in her eyes. “Roasted,” I offer after a moment.

We work in a surprisingly comfortable silence after that. Well, it would be comfortable if I weren’t so damn aware of every move she makes and the cute way she’shumming a song under her breath. I can’t remember ever being so distracted by a woman before. Especially one I barely know. But there’s something about her. It’s dangerous. And I don’t like it.

I try to block out her humming until the only sounds I register are the sound of the knife on the cutting board and then the sizzle when I lay the steaks on the hot pan. It’s domestic in a way I haven’t experienced since Tessa was a little girl, and the unfamiliarity of it keeps my senses on edge.

“Do you always eat this late?” Lilly asks as we set the table.

I shrug and grab the plates from the shelf, handing them to her. “Whenever I get around to it, I guess.”

“That’s not very structured.”

“Didn’t realize I needed to keep to a schedule.”

She smiles faintly and raises a brow. “You don’t. It just seems like something you’d benefit from. Besides, I’m here now. And it turns out, Idolike to eat at a reasonable time.” I open my mouth to object, but she stops me. “And before you can say anything,no,I don’t expect you to cook for me every night.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.” It’s not a lie,but she gives me a look that tells me she doesn’t believe me before carrying the bowl of potatoes to the table. I follow her with the steaks, and a plate of sliced tomatoes and cucumbers I found. “It’s just that I don’t cook every night,” I say as I sit across from her. “And I definitely don’t eat at the table when I do.”

Her smile is wide this time. “Well, I’m happy to help out in the kitchen, too. Cooking isn’t my strong suit, but I don’t mind trying as long as your expectations aren’t too high.”

She’s so charming, I find myself agreeing, despite every reservation I have about spending even more time with this woman.

We eat in silence for a few minutes before she says, “You aren’t married.”

I look up, caught off guard. “That’s a hell of a way to start a conversation.”

Her cheeks color slightly, but she holds my gaze. “I just assumed…well, if you did. Or if you had a girlfriend, she probably wouldn’t appreciate me living here, is all.”

I shake my head slightly. “I don’t have either.”

The relief that flashes across her face is quick, but unmistakable.

“You?” I ask. “Got a boyfriend that’sgonna have a problem with you living up here alone with me?”

She freezes, just for a second, before shaking her head. “No. There’s no one.”

For a split second, she looks almost wounded, but then the mask snaps back into place, and she lifts her fork to her mouth.

The answer is simple. The expression behind it isn’t.

Lilly

We finish dinner in a silence that’s not exactly uncomfortable, just careful. Like we’re both unsure how to navigate the situation. It feels like we’re balancing on a wire and one wrong move will send it all crashing down.

I got straight A’s in school, but there was no class on how to live with a grumpy, reluctant mountain man of a boss who made it clear at every turn that he doesn’t want you here.

Then again, there was something else underlying Luke’s hostility toward me. It was almost a kindness, or maybe it was pity. I couldn’t quite figure him out.

I stack the plates before he can stop me and carry them to the sink.

“You don’t have to,” he says quickly, following me across the kitchen.

“I know.” I let the water run hot into the sink and squeeze a dose of soap under the tap. “But I ate,” I say. “So I help out. It seems fair.”