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“Do yousome napkins from the pantry?”

She’d been hoping to escape, not get drawn into an intimate kitchen scene that made him more human and less the Dohts “Do you do this every ?”

“Cook?” He turned toward her wearing an apron with Some Like It Hot embroidered on the front “Yeah I would eat croissants and doughnuts if I didn’t cook”

“And the problem with that is what?” She found the napkins and carried them to the countertop

He ladled beaten eggs into the pan then tossed in a handful of veggies “Cheese?”

“The more the better”

“A girl after my heart”

Since he was facing the stove, she couldn’t read his expression She hopped up onto a barstool, then shifted because her bottom was a little sore

“There’s more coffee in the carafe”

“I’ve had enough Thanks”

This time, he did look at her “I’d like another one With cream”

She wished she’d called for a ride Each moment that ticked by deepened their ties “You’re closer” Where had she found the courage to say that?

“You’re being difficult” He reached for a wooden spoon and waved it in her direction