"Uh, nothing." Frederick cleared his throat and fiddled with the place mat before glancing back up at me. “So, do you get many car breakdowns out here? Any other stranded city folk you need to rescue?”
“Sometimes." And just because I couldn't help myself, I added, "But none as cute as you.”
His cheeks turned the same color as the red flame under the burner. I could practically feel the heat radiating off him from several feet away. He pushed his glasses into the bridge of his nose, licked his lips and stammered.
Gods, he was so stinking cute.
“Well, I—”
Don't say it, Jake. Don't do it.
“And you’re even cuter when you get all flustered.”
Too late.
Frederick coughed into his hand, then shoved it back under the table. He wasn't meeting my eye.
Crap. Had I pushed him too far with the teasing?
“So, uh... What do you think about my car?” he asked.
Made sense that he wanted to get the heck out of here. He had important science-y things to do.
“I’ll take a look at it before sunset,” I promised.
Frederick smiled. “Thanks for letting me stay here.” Relief flooded his face, and his smile twitched with sincerity “I’d be in big trouble if it weren’t for you.”
“Nah. You don’t have to worry about much wildlife bothering you out here.”
Frederick’s shoulders relaxed as he laughed. “Except for the smallest predators that aren’t easy to see. Like scorpions and spiders.”
“Aha!” I exclaimed, holding up the whisk. “So, youdoknow your desert terrain.”
Frederick’s eyes gleamed at my compliment. “We have a lab in the city where we conduct research. We try to recreate as much of the terrain and organisms as best we can. That way when we’re exposed to the natural elements, we’ll be better prepared. Obviously, it's not the same as the real thing. There's no driving involved at the artificial lab..” Humbleness etched into the curve of his smile. “Which is why I’m stranded.”
“Nah. Car trouble happens."
“Probably not to you," Frederick remarked.
"Even to me, believe it or not."
I loved his playful shyness, the way he hid behind those black rimmed glasses.
The sizzling of the pan reminded me to pay attention to the stove.
“Omelet’s ready,” I proclaimed, sliding it from the pan to a plate. “Hope you brought your appetite.”
Frederick's stomach rumbled. "Oops. Apparently I did."
I grinned at the cute sound. “Want a drink?”
Frederick studied me, his eyes canvasing my face. “What are you going to have?”
“Cola. Or maybe sweet tea.”
“I’ll have either one of those too, then,” he said without any further hesitation, his shoulders straight and sharp with decisiveness, like he had something to prove.
“Sure. Coming right up.”
