His heart staggered.
His brain exploded.
And his body – his treacherous body was reacting to the implication of her words, only to see her smile again as she arched an eyebrow at him, chuckling.
She was laughing at him… again.
“It sounds bad – doesn’t it?” she taunted, rolling her eyes and turning away from him. “Friends don’t say crap like that to each other because it makes things weird… and this is just what you requested. A quick dinner recipe and that’s it.”
“You’re making dinner?”
“We are,” she corrected – and plucked the tomatoes and spinach out of the fridge, smirking. “Your mom would be so proud to know you’ve got veggies in your fridge.”
“I use it in smoothies,” he said numbly, his mind and body still catching up with the fact that Nettie was in his kitchen and had actually addressed him in the sexiest voice he’d ever heard in his life… like it was nothing. “Wait, what? We’re having dinner together?”
“Oh my gosh, pronouns are not your thing – are they?We,” she stressed, “We aremakingdinner together – nothaving. You did a thing for me, so I’m about to do things for you…” she said, sliding a look to him – before bursting out laughing again as he physically twitched because his brain shorted out. “You should see your face. Sheesh, ya’ big seven-foot-freak. Seriously? You and me?”
“Six foot two inches.”
“Same thing.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes. It is.”
“Not when you are five foot four,” she sang out, picking up a massive deep skillet that he didn’t even realize he owned.
“You’re short,” he retorted and paused. And curvy.Short and curvy just like I like my women.
“You’ve got to chill out, Tate,” Nettie chuckled, but her face was flushed with embarrassment as she went off on him. “You bought me a car, so I’m trying to ‘speak Tate’ and be nice back to you - at the same time. You take control of everything, bark orders, and you’re evasive all the time because you think no one is your equal, and I know you,” she stressed, pointing a spatula at him and shaking it.
The fun, light-hearted playfulness was fading before his eyes, and a wave of caution rolled over him. They were in very dangerous territory if Nettie was losing her temper.
“I’ve known you for years, so just shut up, listen, and learn something about yourself, about me, about how this is going to work, and recognize that you aren't in control of everyone in this world.”
“I know that…”
“You think you can just step in?” she said bluntly, cutting him off and refusing to look at him. “Butter, garlic, salt, and pepper go in the skillet.”
“Wait…”
“But you can’t because you should try talking to people instead of at them,” she continued, like they were blending two different conversations into one. “Put a second pot of water on another burner so we can make the pasta… and what are you waiting for? Move! Get another pot, right now!”
Heaven help him, Tate dropped into a squat, opening a cabinet and standing up with a pot in hand, only to see her eyes sparkling with hidden fire and a touch of amusement.
“Where’s my water?”
“Hang on,” he said quickly and filled the pot, putting it on a burner and turning it on, and caught Nettie’s nod of approval as her smile faded.
“You show up, make your presence known, and then you leave before anyone has a chance to argue, say something, or reach you – but now I’m on your turf, so we’re gonna talk about this.”
“Talk about what, Sticks?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it implies that we’re something – and we’re not,” Nettie said without looking at him. He stared at her profile, waiting and watching, processing what was happening right now between them. “When you brown the garlic, you’re going to toss in the mushrooms, tomatoes, and spinach…”
