He shoveled down another forkful of eggs and washed it down with coffee.
“I don’t know,” he admitted ruefully. “I looked at my breakfast that day and decided that I wanted something different. I’ve considered the fact that it may be because of the near-death thing.”
“Could all of this be because of the near-death thing?” The question disconcerted him and he stared at her troubled expression for a long moment as he tried to figure out exactly what she meant by it.
“All of what?”
“Stormy. Your sudden interest in me. It all seems uncharacteristic.”
“Charity, you know as much about my character as I do about yours. Which is to say, not much.”
Charity considered that gentle rebuke and assessed the unperturbed expression on that very attractive face.
“I fell for Stormy the second I saw her standing in that doorway. Bedraggled, wet, shivering and so terrified.”
Charity watched him slant an affectionate look at his napping dog. The question that popped out of her mouth next came from nowhere and shocked the ever-loving hell out of her. “And me?”
But he didn’t miss a beat. He diverted that affectionate look to her, and his lips parted in a soft smile. “You? I haven’t fallen for you…yet.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that. What the hell did one say to something like that anyway?
He didn’t seem to expect a response, instead he continued, “But like I told you before, you intrigue the hell out of me, Charity. On so very many levels.”
She chose not to respond to that and waved her fork at his plate. “Eat your food, it’s getting cold.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The rest of the meal passed without further awkwardness and afterward, Miles attempted to help her clean up.
“Oh my God, what are you doing?” Charity snapped in exasperation when she walked into him a third time. He kept getting underfoot.
“Trying to help,” he muttered, looking sheepish.
“This again,” she muttered beneath her breath. Doing her utmost not to roll her eyes. “Are you getting paid to do this?” Her pointed question made him wince but he didn’t reply. “Well, I am. And I have a system. If you want to help, take your dog for a walk and leave me to do this.”
“It’s pouring,” he pointed out sullenly, and she glanced out the window to confirm. It was a hard drizzle at best, but since the man was recovering from an illness, he probably shouldn’t be out in it.
“Okay, fine. Sit over there and just…stay out of the way.” She pointed toward the banquette, and he slanted her a grin.
“Oh no, not the naughty corner, Mrs. Cole! I promise to be a good boy from now on.”
&nbs
p; The words startled a laugh from her. “Okay, I suppose I sounded a little like that workhouse schoolmarm just then.”
“A tad,” he agreed, pouring the dregs of coffee from the machine before doing as he was told and taking a seat at the banquette. He dug his phone out of his jeans pocket and started tapping away.
Charity left him to it and continued with her work. It was surprisingly companionable, having him sit there while she went about her chores, and Charity found herself watching him often while she rinsed dishes for stacking in the dishwasher. His hair was a mess, he had once again neglected to shave, and his expensive polo shirt had a ketchup stain on the chest.
He looked sexily mussed, and she found it so appealing.
“Hey, George.” Her head whipped up at the sound of his voice, and for a second, she was confused, and glanced around the kitchen for George. But she soon realized that Miles was on the phone with the man. “I need a ride into town. Are you available? Yeah? Around three. Thank you, see you then.”
He disconnected the call and went back to texting.
Curious and frustrated when he didn’t seen fit to immediately tell her what the call was about, Charity couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Where are you off to?”
“Hmm?” He looked up absently, and his eyes cleared when he registered the question. “Oh. I thought I’d look into that puppy socialization class Brand spoke of yesterday. The vet has an app that allows you to reserve a slot.”