It made her skin crawl. He missed nothing. He evidenced that with nearly everything that had ever come out of his mouth. The way he watched her now made her feel like a mouse scuttling about, oblivious to the cat waiting to pounce. She dropped the soap repeatedly, and once, she nearly soaked the bodice of her dress. His gaze finally became too much as she was wringing out one of Woody’s shirts.
“Will you stop that infernal whistling?” she snapped. “It’s giving me a headache.”
“Sure thing, darling. Though I don’t think it’s my whistling that’s got you all knotted up.”
“I’m not knotted up. I just have a lot to get done.” The line she had run over the corner near the fireplace fell beneath the weight of the new shirt she added to it, and she cursed silently. “Now look what you made me do.”
“You’re in quite the mood, aren’t you? Maybe you shouldn’t have let Kenny disappear for the afternoon.”