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“What’s that face for? You look like someone ran your puppy over.”
She gasped. “Oh no, that would be a far more devastated face. Like this.”
Faith showed him her devastated face.
“Good to know. Here.” He held the cup of coffee up to her lips. “It’s cooler now.”
That didn’t sound pleasant, but she was desperate for some caffeine, so she gulped it down.
“Easy, baby. You don’t want to choke.” He set the cup of coffee down and picked up the Danish, holding it to her mouth. “Now, about you moving in.”
That time, it was flakes of pastry that went everywhere as she coughed.
“I think we might need to get you checked by a doctor,” he murmured, grabbing a napkin to clean her up again.
Great. She’d just gotten Danish everywhere.
Faith groaned. “This is all your fault.”
Reuben raised his eyebrows. “It’s my fault that you keep spitting things out? How do you figure that?”
“Because you keep talking about me moving in here.”
“That’s a problem?”
“Yes!”
“What exactly is the problem?” he asked calmly.
“Well, for one, we work together.”
“And that’s an issue?” he asked.
“Well . . . what if you get sick of seeing me all the time?”
“Having you with me all the time is a positive. It means that I can keep an eye on you. Otherwise, I’d just have to pay someone to watch over you. Next problem.”
There was so much to unpack in that statement that she didn’t know where to begin.
Running her hand over her face, she decided to let all of that go and concentrate on the matter at hand.
“We’ve only known each other a short time.”
“You’ve worked for me for three months.”
“Yes, but . . . that was working together. Not being together.” Surely, he understood that.
“Same thing. In fact, I could argue that working together means we know each other well.”
Okay, now she had him.
“Do we, though? I mean, do you know what my favorite color is?”
“Pale blue, like your eyes. Although you also love lilac.”
All right. She guessed she wore those colors a lot.
“Well, what about my favorite drink?”
