Anything for You (Blue Heron #5)(90)

He smiled all the way home. Happy, with a shot of PTSD.

* * *

“SO GUESS WHAT?” Connor asked Davey Dunn. “I’m an uncle. Colleen had her baby today.”

They were back at his house. Rafe had made a huge poster for the restaurant window: It’s a Girl! Isabelle Grace Campbell! Mother & Baby both gorgeous & healthy. Come back tomorrow—drinks are on the house! That last line had been Connor’s idea—it would make his sister very happy.

In the four weeks of their lessons, Davey had mastered scrambled eggs—well, not quite mastered, but they were edible. They were moving on to grilled cheese today.

“Now, this is pretty basic stuff, but if you buy really good bread and cheese, it can be fantastic.”

“I like string cheese. The kind with two colors and it’s all swirly and you pull it apart? The one with the rabbit on the package?”

Connor suppressed a shudder. “Yeah, that’s not really cheese, Dave. So, the trick is, you want the frying pan really, really low. See the blue flame? Just barely on. Now, you remember the rule about the stove?”

“Always check to make sure it’s on when you want it on, and off when you’re done,” he said in a sing-song voice.

“Right. And what else?”

“Never use the stove alone.”

“Good. Okay, so with grilled cheese, you want to keep the heat low, and butter the bread all the way to the crust, see? Then you put it in the pan—other way, butter side down—great. Now put the slices of cheese on, and cover all the bread. Good! And now the tomato slices.”

“I hate tomato.”

Connor raised an eyebrow. “No one hates tomatoes when I’m the chef.”

Davey laughed. “No one hates tomatoes when I’m the chef,” he echoed, lowering his voice. He was something of a mimic, Connor had learned. And it was awfully nice to make him laugh.

“And now a little more cheese. And now the last piece of bread—butter side up this time, see. The butter will make the bread nice and crisp and golden, so it has to touch the pan. And now we wait a few minutes.”

“Fluffy! Come here, girl!” The little dog came skittering into the room and pounced on Davey’s shoelace. He laughed and picked her up.

“Maybe I should drop by the candle place with Fluffy,” Connor said. “You could show her to Miranda.”

“I don’t think she likes me anymore,” Davey said, his face falling.

“Why?”

“She hardly talks to me.”

Connor nodded. “Well, you’re good at talking, right? You have to ask her questions that are easy to answer.” How Colleen would laugh, him giving romantic advice.

“Like what?”

Good question. “Oh, like...who’s your favorite Avenger?”

“I like Iron Man the best.”

“Don’t we all. But ask her, anyway. And then say something like, ‘Hey, me, too! Maybe you could come over sometime and we could watch it.’ And then you make her this killer grilled cheese, and she won’t know what hit her.”

“What hit her?”

“Oh, uh, it’s an expression.” Davey was a very literal person. “She’ll be happy and surprised. A guy with great taste in movies and who can cook.”

His student nodded solemnly.

Connor slid the spatula under the sandwich. “Perfect. See that gorgeous color? And now we just flip it. Voilà.”

“Can I flip it next time?”

“You bet. Oh, and also, you say something nice about how Miranda looks.” He thought of Jess. “Or smells. Tell her her hair looks pretty.”

“Miranda has really great boobs.”

“Okay, don’t say that.”

“She does, though.”

“Do not say that. It’s a little too...personal.”

“But she does.” Davey scowled.

“That’s great. But don’t tell her that, or she might get mad.”

“I like them. They’re pretty. Why would she get mad?” Was he about to have a meltdown? And what would Connor do if he did?

“I don’t know, Dave,” he said. “Women are mysterious.”

Davey burst out laughing. Phew. “Women are mysterious! Yes, they are! They are indeed!”

Connor found he was laughing, too.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

A FEW NIGHTS after Colleen had delighted the town by having her baby in the back of an ambulance, Jessica texted Connor from work and asked him to come for dinner that night. His presentation to the investors was next week, and she wanted to go over it.

And, she admitted, she felt a little guilty.

She knew Connor wanted more than she was giving. Honestly, she hadn’t even thought about living with him since the day he proposed in April...and she still couldn’t see it. She and Davey were a team. Bring in a third person, and it wouldn’t work. Ned didn’t really count; he was a tenant, and would be moving out at the end of the summer, too, once his Visa bill was paid off.

She’d made an offer on the house in the Village. And even though it was something she’d always, always wanted, it somehow made her feel guilty. She didn’t want to tell Connor, but she’d have to, of course.

The truth was, she didn’t really know how to do—or give—more.