The look she gave him was the definition of flustered. “It’s not a date.”
“By your gauge.” He gestured at her with a forkful of huckleberry pie. “I’ve got my own. That means the only thing stopping me from having sex with you is my naturally curious nature. I can work around that. I can decide it’s not a problem for me; then the only thing stopping me from having sex with you is you being willing.”
“I’m not, so if we’re going to talk, it should be about something else. That wasn’t a challenge,” she added, when it occurred to her. “I didn’t mean to pose a sexual challenge.”
“No, I got you didn’t mean to, but it sure has that flavor. And it’s tasty. Like the pie.”
He scooped up a bite. “Did you design the security system here?”
She looked wary again. “Yes.”
“Cameras, too?”
“Yes. Obviously, I don’t actually manufacture the hardware.”
“Obviously.” He angled to study her computer station. “It’s quite a setup.”
“It’s my work.”
“I’m okay on a computer. I can get done what I need to get done, usually find what I need to find. My father, now, he’s amazing. I get a glitch, he’s my man. It must be the math nerd in him. Were you a math nerd?”
At one time, she remembered, she was an everything nerd. Perhaps she still was. “I enjoy math. Its logic.”
“I coulda figured.” He angled back to her, drank some wine. “I like your place. My mother wants your kitchen.”
“You should get her a dog.”
“What?”
“She says she isn’t ready, but it was clear by the way she behaved and reacted to Bert she is. She misses having a dog in her life. She— I’m sorry.” Color rose up to her cheeks. “It’s not my place.”
“We don’t stand on place so much around here. She loved that dog. We all did. It just about flattened us when we had to have him put down.”
He looked down at Bert, resisted—because he liked having his hand—reaching out to pet the dog. “You really think she’s ready to start with another?”
“I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“You did. I’m asking your opinion.”
“Then yes. It seemed to me she felt it would be disloyal if she herself got another dog. But a gift, from one of her children. That’s different, isn’t it?”
“It is. Thanks. She liked you, my mother.”
“I liked her. You should take the rest of the pie, and her dish.” Abigail rose to cover the remaining pie.
“Here’s your hat; what’s your hurry?”
“You weren’t wearing a hat.”
“It’s an expression. Like, say, don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.”
“Oh. Then yes, you have to go. I need to feed my dog,and I have work waiting. Please tell your mother I enjoyed the pie.”
“I will.” He rose, picked up the dish.
“And thank you for the wine. I’ll let you out.”
At the front door he waited for her to unlock, turn off the alarm. Then he set the pie on the little table.
