Kara laughed. “I framed the middle-finger one. It was in my living room until I moved.”
We lingered over the pictures for a while, swapping stories, hers from childhood, mine from the past year.
Eventually, Tuck, who had been sleeping beside the bed, got up and stretched.
“I guess that means it’s dinnertime,” I said, standing and stretching too.
Her eyes followed the movement, lingering where my shirt rode up, revealing a strip of skin. Heat flared in my gut and I fought to shove it down. Despite the chaos of the moment we’d met, she’d eyed my bare chest for longer than necessary. Under other circumstances, I might have explored the attraction between us. But this was Walt’s niece, and she was trying totake what was mine.
We walked to the kitchen with Tuck hot on our heels.
“I haven’t been to the store,” Kara said. “I feel bad eating your food.”
I shrugged as I filled Tuck’s dish and set it on the floor. “It’s just for the weekend, right?” The idea made my stomach clench uncomfortably, which was stupid. She was literally here to take my home from me. The sooner she left, the better.
She glanced around the kitchen. “Right.”
I pulled some meat out of the fridge and started adding spices. I wasn’t much of a cook, but I’d survived mostly on my own for forty years by barbecuing mainly.
Kara rummaged through the cupboards, pulling out a handful of potatoes and washing them in the sink. She pulled open a wooden drawer, and it gave a squeak. I had been meaning to fix that. Kara froze.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was looking for a potato peeler and found this instead.” She held up a bottle opener shaped like a largemouth bass. “I remember this from every family dinner we had when I was a kid.”
“That tradition continued right up until…until the end.”
Her lip twitched; whether to laugh or cry, I wasn’t sure. “Thank you,” she blurted. “For sharing your stories about him with me. For taking care of him. I wish I had been here, but I’m glad he and Tuck had someone who cares.”
I nodded, unsure how to respond without sounding like an idiot.
Chapter Five
Kara
It stayed light out late this time of year, but we had spent so much time sorting and reminiscing that the sun was dipping low in the sky. It cast everything in a beautiful orange-and-gold glow—something I never got in the city.
I rummaged around in the cupboard for plates and cutlery, but my eyes caught on the sight out the window. Grant, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, stood at the grill with single-minded focus as he cooked the steaks. I bit my lip. The scene felt like it belonged to a different life, one where I didn’t just live here in the peace and quiet, but had a man to share it with.
I shoved away from the counter and shook the thought loose. I couldn’t afford to think like that. I barely knew Grant. Even if he had Uncle Walt’s—and Tuck’s—stamp of approval, he was still technically the enemy.
I gathered the dishes in one hand and two beers in the other and headed for the door. Tuck lay sprawled across the threshold,doggy eyes glued to where Grant was transferring the meat and potatoes to a plate.
“Tuck, why are you being a roadblock?” I said, taking an exaggerated step over his big, fluffy body.
He shifted just as I had one leg on either side of him, trying to shove his nose toward the plate in my hand. I shifted my weight to one leg, trying to keep my balance even as his wiggly dog body fought to sniff what was in my hands. I moved my arms above my head and out of his reach, but that just made the balance issue worse.
Grant moved faster than you’d expect a big, burly mountain man to move and caught me around the waist. With my arms up, our bodies were close. Closer than they needed to be. Maybe not as close as I wanted them to be.
I could smell smoke from the barbecue clinging to his shirt. I could feel the heat of his body where his chest pressed against mine.
“Careful,” he said, his voice betraying that maybe he wasn’t as calm as he wanted to be.
I nodded. “You’ve been feeding him scraps, haven’t you?”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “Never.”
“Liar.”
