“Would you,” he began, and stopped to clear his throat. “Would you like…”
9
Jacqueline
Jacqueline didn’t breathe as she waited for Arlo to finish the sentence. Even her heart seemed to have stopped, as though her body didn’t want to risk the thud of her pulse in her ears blocking out whatever he was about to say.
“…Dinner,” he said eventually, and Jacqueline would have been disappointed if it wasn’t for the sudden flash of regret in his eyes.
He hadn’t meant to say dinner. At least, she thought not. Hoped not. God, she was practically dizzy. She wasn’t even making sense inside her own head.
But—he said she was meant to be here. And that she was going to meet other people from Hideaway Cove. Those didn’t sound like the words of someone who was going to tip her overboard the moment they were close enough to shore. They sounded like someone who wanted to spend time with her.
Oh lord, she thought, and swallowed down a sudden bubble of giggles.
He was still looking at her, an expression of mild panic in his eyes. Something inside her melted.
“Dinner?” she said, and leaned the tiniest bit closer to him.
“The kids cleaned me out of fresh food, but…” Arlo shrugged tightly.
Was he nervous? How did a man who looked like that get nervous? Oh God. She should be nervous, but instead, she was edging closer to him, like he was some sort of giant mouse and she was a hungry cat.
“Cornbread isn’t hard to throw together, and there’s… tins of, uh… it’s bachelor rations, but better than nothing. Since Tally ate most of your meal earlier.”
Dinner. A shiver of anticipation went down Jacqueline’s spine. She might be reading this whole thing wrong but until she had proof either way, couldn’t she just enjoy pretending?
And if she wasn’t reading Arlo wrong…
The shiver of anticipation turned into electric delight.
Jacqueline took a deep breath. “Dinner sounds lovely,” she said.
“Right.” Arlo’s lips hooked into a bashful smile. “Good.”
Jacqueline couldn’t help smiling back.
Arlo crept below decks and returned with a box from the pantry. Jacqueline joined him next to the cooker.
“Can I help?”
“Sure. Could you oil the pan? It’ll need a few minutes to warm up.”
Jacqueline sat down beside Arlo and took the frying pan he handed her. They worked together in silence for a few minutes, Jacqueline lighting the cooker and Arlo mixing ingredients. By the time the pan was hot enough and the mix was ready, Jacqueline’s mouth was watering.
Her stomach gurgled as Arlo tipped the dough in to cook. “Sorry. I’m starving, and that already smells delicious.”
“Wait until you try it before you make any judgements. I’m only used to cooking for myself.” Arlo fixed the lid on the skillet.
“The fish earlier was amazing. The bite of it I had, at least.”
“You have to be a worse cook than me to ruin fresh fish and bread someone else baked,” Arlo demurred. “This could burn, or not cook through, or…” He waved his hand as though encompassing a world of terrible cooking disasters.
“I see a fresh stick of butter in here,” Jacqueline announced, digging in the box. “That’s enough to fix anything, in my books.” Her stomach growled again and Arlo gave her an apologetic look.
“I should have noticed Tally was staking a claim on your plate.”
“I didn’t want to stop her. God knows when those kids last had a hot meal.”