Barnaby stared, his pulse kicking into high gear. “You-you liked the way I looked?”
Nathan lowered his gaze to his soup. “You looked, you know, okay for that sort of look, yeah.”
Hardly a ringing endorsement of his prior appearance, Barnaby thought, but he was so pathetic, he decided it was better than nothing. “Maybe I’ll go back to the other way, then.”
“Sure, if you want.”
Barnaby forced back a sigh and searched for something else to say. “How’s your soup?”
“It’s fine.” Nathan smiled.
“I guess you can’t do much to harm canned soup.”
“Unless you forget it’s on the stove and burn it dry,” Nathan said somewhat sheepishly. “Can I ask you another question?”
Tensing, Barnaby nodded.
“Where’d the name Barnaby come from?”
He laughed. Thatwas easy. “My grandmother. She loved seventies television. One of her favorites was Barnaby Jones with Buddy Ebsen. Thus, the name.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope. I’m just lucky she didn’t name me Maude or Rhoda.”