I narrowed my eyes at her. “Would they truly be s’mores at that point?”
“Two hard things squishing together something soft, why not?” She huffed out a laugh and shook her head, strands of hair falling around her face. Her cheeks were still flushed, but now it looked less like mortification and more like… something else. “Do you always like to argue?”
“I do it for a living.”
And then I caught something behind her expression.
A glow.
Maybe amusement.
Maybe something she wasn’t quite ready to name either.
“Well,” she said finally, reaching into one of the bags and pulling out a box of crackers. “You’ve ruined the surprise, so I guess there’s no point pretending this was a spontaneous event.”
“You could still pretend.”
Her eyes met mine, playful now. “You’d let me?”
“Probably not,” I said. “But I’d act really surprised while eating whatever cheese you picked out.”
She smirked. “Youdogive off cheese enthusiast energy.”
I leaned back slightly against the counter, arms crossing. “Only the very serious kind. The kind that comes with aged Gouda and emotional boundaries.”
Her mouth twitched, and her gaze lingered on mine a second too long. Not in a bad way, or in a you’re-being-weird way, but in a way that said,I see you.
And maybe I was finally starting to let myself see her, too.
“You need help setting it up?” I asked, nodding toward the bags.
Fifi blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“The firepit thing. I can help.”
She waved a hand. “No, no. I’ve got it handled.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” she said, narrowing her eyes playfully. “But if I recall, Mr. Jensen, you were pretty adamant about this being avacation.Not a community service opportunity.”
“I’m flexible.”
“Hmm. That doesn’t sound like something a pouting recluse would say.”
“Maybe I’m evolving.”
That got her.
She laughed again, but softer this time in an almost shy way. She reached into the second bag, pulling out marshmallows, chocolate, and a small pack of tealight candles because, of course, she’d make s’mores dramatic.
I watched her sort through everything with the same focus I imagined she gave to decorating rooms and crafting welcome notes. Shecared.Even about the dumb stuff.Especiallyabout the dumb stuff.
It was disarming.
Because when she did it, there was nothing dumb about it.
She set the candles aside and looked up again, this time her expression gentler.
