Chapter 26

“I’m glad you got up,” he said.

“Me, too.” I busied myself filling the kettle and setting up the teapot. I wanted to say it—was biting my tongue not to—so I took a fortifying breath and did. “I missed you at breakfast yesterday.”

“Yeah?” His head tilted, and his eyes scrunched together questioningly. “I missed you, too. It’s…” He blinked and gave a delicate head shake before turning back to his oatmeal. I didn’t push for it. Instead my heart jumped, imagining him thinking the same as me—that it was weird, feeling such a connection after little more than a week together.

I pulled our thermal lunch bags out of the cabinet and peered into the refrigerator. “There are a few Bierocks still, and plenty of leftover spaghetti and meatballs mixed up. Which do you want for lunch today? Or some of each?”

Wes snickered. “I doubt they’ll complement each other, but I’ll go for some of each.”