The Summer Deal (Wildstone #5)(25)

“You’re a marine biologist, right?” she asked. “Cool job.”

“It’s not as glamorous as it sounds. Mostly I spend a whole bunch of time in scuba gear freezing my bits off, or searching for funds so that we can continue to protect and report on the marine life in the bay.”

“Explains your comfort in a wet suit.” She raised a brow. “You always go commando under it?”

He laughed. “Not at work. And only if it’s like a week past laundry day.”

“Is it dangerous work?”

“Laundry? Yes, deadly dangerous. It’s why I procrastinate.”

She laughed. “Your job. You ever run into a shark?”

“It’s the jellyfish that are terrifying. I’ve been stung twice, which hurts like a bitch. How about you?”

“Nope.” She smiled. “I’ve never been stung by a jellyfish.”

“Smart-ass.” He liked that. A lot. “I meant about your work.”

“I start a new job tomorrow, so I’m nervous. It’ll be the first time I’ve ever taught kindergarteners. I’d maybe prefer to get stung by a jellyfish.”

“Trust me, you wouldn’t. What did you teach before this?”

“High school English. Before that I tutored middle schoolers and high schoolers at a tutoring academy. Before that I was a nanny and a waitress, along with a few other odd jobs while I was in college.”

“If you could teach and tutor middle and high schoolers, you can teach kindergarteners. They’re kind of the same thing. Plus, you’re bringing a lot of experience to the table. You’ll do great.”

She stared at him like maybe no one had ever said anything like that to her before. “Thanks,” she said softly.

One of their stomachs growled. His this time, and he began to move around the kitchen, pulling out what he needed, oddly reluctant to call it a night in spite of the late hour.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “Didn’t we just eat?”

“Hours ago. Do you like pancakes?”

She laughed. “I love pancakes. Especially at midnight.”

He grinned. “Midnight pancakes taste better.”

“So you do this a lot?”

“Yeah. Surfing burns a lot of calories.”

“Then maybe I should try it.”

“I could teach you,” he said, stirring the ingredients together.

“Be careful what you offer me,” she said. “I like to try new things. I’m just not usually any good at them.”

“You’ll be good at this.”

“You know I’m a klutz,” she said.

He turned and looked at her. She looked at him right back. “Trust me,” he said.

She busied herself with moving around the kitchen. “You also know I’m not very good with trust either. Are you as good at pancakes as you are at surfing?”

“Better.”

“Hmm.” She hopped up onto the counter. “Then consider me as hopeful as Mini.”

The dog had showed up with hopeful eyes, padding over to the stove to sit and watch Eli.

Brynn didn’t just sit. She always seemed to be in motion, legs moving, talking with her hands. Her hair was a riot of loose waves and she didn’t seem to care, which he found refreshing and—damn—extremely attractive.

She was intriguing.

More than.

He added an ingredient that had Mini sitting up straight.

Brynn too. “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

“Is there any other kind?”

She grinned, and something deep inside him . . . warmed. His cold, dead heart, he realized with surprise, and he flipped the first pancake with a flick of his wrist.

Brynn clapped in delight sitting there on his countertop, legs now crossed and tucked beneath her.

“You look like you’re sixteen and in high school,” he said with a smile.

“I didn’t go to high school. I was homeschooled by then.”

“Why?”

She shrugged, looking at the pan, not him. “I was moving at a faster pace.”

He knew by her body language that there was a whole bunch more to that story than she was willing to tell him. Something he understood. “So why kindergarten?” he asked.

“It was all that was open. I’m hoping for the best. Kindergarten’s a really hard time for kids. They’re away from their moms and scared to be different. Maybe I can help them see that they’re unique and special just the way they are.”

He thought that statement was more revealing than anything she’d said up to that point. “I don’t think you have anything to be nervous about,” he said quietly.

Their gazes met and held.

Max reappeared, breaking the moment. He’d dressed, Eli was happy to see, wearing loose basketball shorts and a T-shirt, looking rumpled, like maybe he’d gone to bed but had just rolled out of it again. “I smell chocolate chip pancakes.” He spied what Eli was doing and pumped a triumphant fist. “Yes!” He went to the fridge and unwrapped what looked like a pancake, stuck it on a plate, and set it down for Mini.

“Chicken and rice and carrot pancake,” Eli told Brynn. “Max makes a batch for her once a week or so. She likes to eat with us.”