He had finished chopping the cheese and had mashed together some herbs that she hadn’t known she owned in a bowl. He reached above her head to the pot rack where she had a frying pan her grandmother had given her when Indy had left home.
“No brother. Dash and I got them together.”
“He’s your cousin, right?”
He gave her a sardonic look. “You know he is.”
“I do. Figured I’d keep asking similar questions and see if you open up a bit.”
He took the pan to the sink and washed and then put it on the burner to heat up. “I’m not going to.”
He didn’t talk while he made their sandwiches and she sort of just stared at his butt until she realized what she was doing. She got up and set places for both of them at the counter. “What would you like to drink?”
“I didn’t see anything but milk in your fridge.”
“I made sun tea. Let me go and get the pitcher.”
She went outside and collected the pitcher she’d set out this morning before she’d left for the park. The sugar had melted and the tea was that perfect amber color on the cusp of turning brown. It was just the way she loved it.
She came back inside and Conrad had finished the sandwiches and somehow made a salad out of her sad looking lettuce. She filled two glasses with ice and then poured the tea over it and sat down next to him.
“So...”
He turned, arching one eyebrow at her.
“Thanks for lunch.”
“No problem. I was mean to you earlier.”
“You were?” she wondered when he meant. He was a brusque person and she’d had to push him back in line, but he hadn’t hurt her. Not really.
“I was. Now we’re square.”
“Because you said so?”
“Yeah,” he said, before taking a bite of his sandwich.
She turned her attention to her plate and took a taste of the grilled cheese he’d made and almost moaned out loud. It was literally the best tasting sandwich she’d ever had. How had he made this out of her crappy ingredients?
“You like it?”
She was about to gush over the sandwich but then turned to meet his gaze. “Yup.”
He waited a beat and then threw his head back and laughed. He didn’t say anything else while they finished their lunch, but she felt like something had changed between them. Maybe enough to just ask him to do her a favor?
She didn’t think so. Not yet. But they were getting there. He might be a man of few words, but she was coming to realize that he actually said a lot with his gestures. His cooking for her was personal to him; he’d done it to apologize. Underneath the thorns he’d covered himself in was a man who...she wanted to get to know better. She hadn’t thought of what would happen if she lost the wager, but it was getting closer to her paying up, and what would be like to go on a date with the Beast?.
“Would you—
“Want to—”
“Sorry,” she said. “What was that?”
“Want to go for a ride on my bike?” he asked.
“For the weekend you won?”
“Nah, I’m going to come back next weekend for that since we’ve wasted half the day.”