“Do you want to sit here at the dinette or go into the living room?”
“This is fine. I’m a kitchen sort of person. The one who tends to spill stuff and drop things. That cream carpet wouldn’t handle much coffee.”
“All right.” She moved to the little table.
He managed to reach past and pull out the chair for her.
“You didn’t have to do that. I’m the hostess.”
“Yeah, but I’m the rescuing knight, remember?” He wanted to put her at ease, to make her relax. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he felt he needed to—it wasn’t right for a person to be ill-at-ease in her own home. Not that this slick, cool little apartment was much of a home, but she had nothing else, at least for now.
“You’re very good at it, too.” She smiled, that smile he’d only seen a time or two, which transformed her face from
