I rounded the corner to find Hallie mixing something in a small bowl with a spout. Where the hell had she found that? I couldn’t remember the last time it had been used.
She had her white-blond hair piled atop her head in a bun that somehow stayed in place. But the look exposed her neck. Long and sinewy, I found myself wanting to trace a finger down it.
I gave my head a good shake. Since when did I find someone’sneckattractive?
I cleared my throat, turning my focus to Drew and Charlie, who were perched at the island. “Did I come home to the wrong house?”
Charlie’s forehead scrunched. “Of course, you’re in the right house.”
Drew snorted. “It doesn’t smell like feet in the living room anymore. That’s what confused you.”
Hallie wiped her hands on a towel as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Instead of dropping the towel back to the counter, she threaded it through her fingers and pulled it taut. “I should’ve asked what you wanted for dinner before you went to work, but I didn’t think of it. And I didn’t want to bother you once you were there, so I just kind of guessed—”
“Hallie,” I cut her off as I moved into the kitchen. “Whatever it is smells amazing.”
A little of the tension left her shoulders, but the towel stayed pulled tight in her hands. “It’s a roasted chicken salad and homemade mac and cheese.”
“I helped with the salad,” Charlie said, sitting up straighter on his stool. “I added bacon. And also, I like cucumbers now.”
My gaze flicked from my son to Hallie. “My kid likes cucumbers now? Are you some kind of sorcerer?”
Drew shook his head. “Don’t get any ideas about me and oranges. That ship has sailed.”
Hallie’s lips twitched. “I solemnly swear not to try to sell you on oranges.” She turned, seeming to check the timer on the oven but the towel stayed firmly in her grasp.
I followed behind her, lowering my voice. “You’re nervous.”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I’m good.”
“You’re not,” I growled.
Hallie jolted a bit, and I cursed myself.
“I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
Her gaze flicked up to me, the gray in her eyes seeming to swirl, pulling me in. “Is it really okay? What I made? Not too kiddish?”
I barked out a laugh. “Hallie, if you haven’t noticed, I live with three kids. And I’m not exactly a gourmet foodie.”
Her hold on the towel loosened, and stray tendrils of hair fluttered as she let out a breath. “Good. That’s good.”
I leaned in closer, not having a clue how to ease the worry that obviously had her in knots. “What’s all this about?”
Hallie started to shake her head and open her mouth as if to saynothing, but my narrowing eyes stopped her. She huffed out a breath. “My parents are into the gourmet stuff. My mom was always telling me that I ate like a five-year-old.”
“So what if you eat like a five-year-old? That’s the privilege of being an adult. You can eat whatever the hell you want.”
“You sound like Adrian,” Hallie said with a smile.
I stilled. Adrian. Who the hell was Adrian? Friend? Boyfriend? I shifted to lean a hip on the counter. “Who’s Adrian?”
My voice sounded light, casual, as if I didn’t particularly care who he was. God, I was grateful I was a good liar.
Hallie’s entire face lit up as if someone had flicked on a light switch inside her. “My brother Emerson’s husband. He’s an amazing cook. He’s the one who taught me the basics. He’s always saying I should cook whatever makes me happy.”
I didn’t want to look too closely at the relief coursing through me. “Sounds like a wise man.”
“He’s one of the best.”
