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I made a big production of looking back at his ass. “No pancakes here. Just a gorgeous pair of—”

Teo poked me in the side even though he was laughing. “Stop. It’s a family event.”

“Trousers,” I finished. “Jeez. What did you think I was going to say?”

He poked me again. “I’m wearing ratty jeans and a hoodie long enough to cover both my pancakes and my chicken legs, thank you very much.”

“Well, let the record show I enjoy pancakes and chicken legs, so there.”

We wandered around the craft booths, stopping here and there to pick up some local treats. Teo got particularly excited when he discovered an older couple selling hand-spun yarn. He chatted with them for a solid twenty minutes, asking about their farm and sheep, their yarn dying process, and the best kind of projects to make with the ball of light, creamy yellow yarn he’d picked out.

“Do you sell needles too?” he asked excitedly. Once they’d helped him put together what he needed for what I now saw was a simple baby hat, they wished us both well on our new baby.

“I think some wires got crossed there,” I whispered to him as we walked away.

“Whatever. I’ve always wanted to try circular needles, and this is the perfect excuse. If I can cast it on before our flight tomorrow, maybe I can keep myself distracted during the trip home.”

“You know how to knit?”

He looked at me with furrowed brows. I noticed, not for the first time, he had a small, dusty brown birthmark the shape of Florida by his hairline near the part in his hair. “Did you think I just bought yarn and needles on a lark?”

I’d been staring at his eyes again. Irises so oddly light green, they reminded me of flying over the crystal clear waters of the Caribbean Sea.

I cleared my throat and stepped into line for a couple of hot chocolates to keep us warm on the trip back to the hotel. While it was early spring back in Chicago, it was definitely still full-on winter here in Goose Bay.

“I assumed it was a gift for your mom or your sister,” I admitted. “Ignore my blatant sexism.”

“No, it’s fine. I learned from one of my patients a while back. Her arthritis had gotten too painful to finish the last half of a scarf she’d started for her twelfth grandchild. She’d hand made scarves for all the other grandkids, and this was the last one. After one of my shifts, I offered to stay and try to finish it for her. It turned out to be a blast. We were laughing so hard. It took me probably… I don’t know, two weeks of working on it here and there. And once it was finished, I was hooked. I don’t know how to do anything fancy, but I like having something to keep my hands busy when I watch TV.”

I pictured Teo sitting next to a patient in a nursing home knitting up a storm while they gossiped about a game show on television. It was easy to imagine him like that, enjoying listening to old stories and genuinely appreciating time spent with them.

“I play silly games on my phone,” I admitted. “I spend a lot of nights in hotels, so I’ll find something on TV but then play Candy Crush or Words With Friends or 2048. My old neighbor Mrs. Stickley used to tell me she thought our generation was raised with too much multitasking and that’s why we always had to be doing too many things at once.”

Teo narrowed his eyes at me and grinned. “Our generation?”

It was our turn to order, so I told the young man behind the counter what we wanted and pulled out some cash to pay for it. After he handed us the two cups, I offered to carry Teo’s paper gift bag in exchange for giving him his drink.

He handed it to me without thinking and began blowing on his cocoa as we headed toward the door to return to the hotel.

“So, yeah. You’re a little younger than I am,” I began with a smirk. “No need to rub it in.”

“I figured if you were flying the big planes for United, you had to be at least… what? Midthirties?”

Teo’s grin was adorable.

“Fine. I may be just a hair older than you are,” I said, shifting the paper bag handles over my arm so I could take a sip of the hot drink. “But I’ll have you know, there’s a 777 captain who’s only twenty-six years old.”

“Is it you?” Tee was captivating when he teased me. It made me want him to do it more often.

“No, smartass. It’s not me. I’m…” I made a big deal out of looking around to make sure no one could hear me before leaning over to whisper, “Thirty-six.”

Tags: Lucy Lennox M-M Romance
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