“What do I do?” Bryce asked after Talon had gone inside.
“You know? You don’t have to stay here. I’ll take care of the grill. I can do it in my sleep.”
“He asked me to do it, so I’ll do it,” Bryce replied almost tersely.
Okay, then. “It’s easy. Just keep your eye on them. When you see the edges start to brown, flip them over.”
“Then what?”
“Then you wait until they feel done.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
I touched my middle finger to my thumb. “For medium rare, it feels like this. Press the spatula to the burger.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t know how else to explain it. You’ll get the hang of it. The second side only takes about three minutes. Just let me do it.”
“Nope.”
Such stubbornness! Until it dawned on me. Maybe he wanted to talk to me. Be with me.
Problem was, I had no idea what to say. Until I spied Joe by himself, looking…strange, sipping his martini. An empty glass sat next to him on the table. Had he brought out both drinks for himself? I’d assumed one was for Bryce.
“What’s up with Joe?” I asked Bryce.
“Joe’s fine,” Bryce said, again tersely.
“Since when does he start with two drinks?”
Bryce cleared his throat. Tersely. “You’d have to ask him.”
“I’m asking you. You were with him today. He doesn’t seem like himself.” As a matter of fact, Bryce didn’t seem like himself either. Not that I could tell, really. He’d been an enigma since his father died.
“He’s fine. And I’m fine.”
“I didn’t ask about you.”
He huffed and looked down at the grill, poking the edge of the spatula into the burgers. Red juice flowed out.
“Don’t do that,” I admonished. “They’ll dry up. You want the juices trapped inside.”
“But you said—”
“I said press the flat part of the spatula against it to gauge the feel of the meat. Don’t cut into it.”
“Fine. You just take over.” He huffed again and handed me the spatula.
Then he walked toward Joe.
Chapter Forty
Bryce
“Your sister’s asking questions.”
Joe finished his second drink. “Like what?”