Damn it.
“Finished?” he asked her. When she nodded, he repeated the process with her plate.
“Why are you being so kind today? Yesterday you were…” She paused and then added, “Not so kind.”
He chuckled and leaned against the counter, his eyes running slowly over her like they always did.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot. If we’re going to be working with each other for the next couple of months—”
“We won’t. You’re not needed.”
His smile increased. “We’ve established I’ll be here whether you want me or not, so I figured we might as well be cordial to one another.”
She sighed heavily and finished off her second cup of coffee.
“Feel better?” he asked, watching her.
“Better?” She frowned.
His eyebrows shot up. “You were… Not so kind earlier,” he said, throwing her words back at her.
She bit the inside of her lip, trying to stop the flood of words from spilling from her mouth. Standing up, she slowly exhaled and released everything she wanted to say, then put her coffee mug in the dishwasher and walked out without saying a word.
The next time she saw him, he was talking to the pig. Wilbur didn’t like anyone. Ever. Yet, Nick was standing just inside the fence, leaning on it as if he was very comfortable, talking to the pig, who was just looking at him.
“What are you doing?” she asked, moving slowly towards the pig pen.
Nick glanced over his shoulder. “Just having a discussion with Wilbur. We’ve come to an agreement. Haven’t we?” Nick asked the pig, who just stared back at him.
“An… agreement?” She wanted to pull Nick over the fence before the pig could attack him.
“Sure.” Nick chuckled. “I’ll feed him my famous gruel each day if he promises not to kill me.”
She frowned and watched Wilbur lose interest in them and go back to eating the mixture in his trough.
“Why are you so determined to be friends with Wilbur?” she asked, leaning against the fence.
“Why hasn’t anyone tried to get him to be friendly?” he countered.
“Because he’s Christmas dinner,” she said with a shrug.
“What?” Nick gasped and shook his head. “You don’t eat family.” He turned back to Wilbur.
She chuckled. “He’s not family. My dad buys a new pig each year just for Christmas.”
“No.” Nick frowned. “You’ve had Wilbur for as long as I can remember.”
“Correction, we’ve had a pig named Wilbur for as long as you can remember,” she said easily.
Nick frowned at that and looked back at the pig. “You call different pigs by the same name?”
“My father claims it keep him from getting too attached to his food.” Kara shrugged again and glanced off over the field. She felt a little steadier after the bigger meal, but she wasn’t about to let Nick know that.
Nick jumped out of the pen and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “Gosh, that just… that’s not right.” He shook his head as his eyes returned to Wilbur.
Kara could have sworn she saw sadness flash behind his eyes, but then he shifted, and the sun blocked her view of his face.
“Didn’t you just make me bacon this morning?” she laughed.