Could I make this any weirder?
“Right. Details.” She’s looking at me with an expression I can’t quite read. “Your house is very … clean.”
And devoid of details. I chuckle. “You can say it like it is. That’s code for empty.”
She rubs her hands together to warm them up from the cold. “I was going to say minimalist, sparse.”
“Also code for empty.”
She chuckles, and some of the tension breaks. “It’s actually kind of nice. Peaceful. My grandmother’s house looks like a craft store exploded.”
“Also, cozy, rustic?—”
“Code for cluttered,” she says with an affectionate laugh.
“Possibly a fire hazard.”
Her face squishes up adorably, accompanied by a giggle that fills this empty room, fills me in a way I didn’t realize I needed.
“I’ve seen your office. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“Sticky notes are a legitimate organizational system!”
“You and your lists.”
“And reminders!”
“They’re chaos with adhesive.”
“Says the man with the color-coded business binder.”
“At least my files don’t multiply and migrate.”
We’re bickering, but it’s different now. Lighter. Fun. Maybe flirty.
I gesture toward the kitchen. “Hungry?”
Winnie follows me, and I’m painfully aware of her in my space. She smells like that Italian perfume, sophisticated and subtle, a contrast to the woodsmoke in my house.
“These look amazing,” she says as I plate the burgers. “And are those homemade pickles?”
“Captain Kendrick’s recipe.”
“You made pickles from scratch?”
“They’re little more than cucumbers, vinegar, and time.”
“Most people would just buy a jar.”
“I guess I’m not most people.”
“No,” she says softly, meeting my eyes. “You’re really not.”
We eat at my card table masquerading as a dining table—the only one I own—and review vendor contracts between bites. She’s wearing jeans and a soft sweater that reminds me of sugar plums. I have to actively force myself to focus on the line items instead of the way her hair falls over her shoulder, where her sweater slides toward her upper arm, revealing soft skin.
She sets down the burger. “This is delicious. The guys are lucky to have you cook for them.”
“It’s better than Hayes’s boxed macaroni and cheese. Plus, I wanted to impress Captain Kendrick.” Maybe Winnie, too.
