“I’m just observing.”
“You observe everything.”
“Yes, it’s my job.”
He looked at her over the rim of his glass. “Is that what you’re doing with me?” He ate the first bite. “Observing and cataloging?”
She tilted her head as she licked the fork. “Maybe.”
Thunder cracked again. The lights blinked out completely this time. Darkness swallowed the room as Letty chuckled. “Romantic.”
Wyatt stood without a word and moved toward the breaker panel on the side of the wall by the pantry, and a second later, an emergency lantern light clicked on. He returned, setting one on the table as he sat down.
Letty smiled. The room had shifted into something softer, the lantern light and the storm outside pressing the world smaller around them. Her mind explored what they had learned about the men on the whiteboard as she chewed. Wyatt’s eyes stared at her as she stopped chewing. “What?”
He shrugged. “This is nice.”
She nodded. “It is. It’s normal.”
Wyatt scoffed. “What’s normal?”
Letty ate another bite. “You made dinner, you fixed the lighting issue, you’re good at this domestic stuff.”
He snorted. “Sure.”
She grinned before her fork went back into her food. “You were good with that kid,” she said finally.
His fork stilled.
“At the casino,” Letty clarified.
He shrugged. “Basic rescue.”
“Not the dive,” she said. “After. When you talked to her.”
He didn’t answer.
“You dropped your voice,” she continued. “You slowed your breathing, so she’d match it.”
He glanced up. “You noticed.”
“I notice patterns.”
He leaned back in his chair. “My mom used to do that.”
Her chest softened, listening, willing him to share.
“She was steady,” he added.
“I called you that once,” Letty said.
“I remember.” Lightning caught their attention out the window as the storm rumbled. “I liked it.”
The words electrified the air between them. She felt it in her ribs. “You liked being called steady?”
“I liked you saying it.”
Her breath caught as the lantern caught in his eyes. “You are steady.”
