“Yeah, I’m a big fan of cities.”
“You seem to have fond memories of the suburbs too.”
“I did. I love my hometown. I just don’t plan on living on a farm or homestead. I get enough of that visiting family. So, you want kids?”
Why the hell was I asking?
“Yeah. Maybe not the litters that some of your family has, but more than one. Two seems like the right place.”
“They don’t outnumber you then.” I paused, then looked at him. “But they wouldn’t be lonely either.”
“You’re an only child.”
“True, but my family is… unconventional. I practically had two dozen siblings with how close we all were. Are.”
Harrison reached over, filling up the wine I hadn’t realized I’d already drained, then went back to his cooking.
I went back to the couch, opening one of the books I needed to read—a slasher erotica recommended by my crazy aunt—but I couldn’t focus on the words.
Clearly, I hadn’t thought this out as much as I had hoped.
Because, yes, my presence could, over time, start to nettle Harrison.
But proximity to him would also make me know him better. And, probably, like him better.
That wasn’t going to help the situation.
Neither, I decided after stuffing my face, was having him cook for me all the time going to help. Because his cooking was better than most things I’d ever eaten. Which was saying something with how much I’d traveled and sampled food around the world.
“Do you bake too?” I asked, even though I couldn’t fit another bite in if I tried.
“I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Cooking is an… art. Baking is a science. I prefer being able to improvise and adjust things.”
“Well, you also live in a city with a ton of amazing bakeries, so why bother?”
“You never wanted to learn?”
“Baking? No. I mean, I decorated cookies and stuff when I was younger. And I show up and drink wine while the moms or cousins bake for the holidays. But it never called to me.”
“What did? Aside from cards. And ice skating. Poetry…”
I winced.
“I never really picked up on homey hobbies like cooking or baking. Or gardening. I do like reading. But other than that, I think most of the things I like involve travel. New places, new food, new experiences. I’ve always been… restless.”
“Have you ever considered that you are restless because you don’t have a home base to get comfortable in?”
“Maybe,” I agreed. My own family had been making that argument for years. “But my job also requires… movement.”
“Is it just cards?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you drawn to other high-stakes risk-taking, or is it only the game?”
