shoulder. “When you’re done, maybe you could open the wine?”
He nodded silently. Everything about this scene was far too…cozy. Like they were a couple. Or friends, at the very least. As he headed toward the living room to grab her laptop he tried to sort out why exactly he felt like the ground was shifting beneath his feet. It wasn’t the first time he’d been invited to dinner or asked to open a bottle of wine—though it had been a while since he’d lived anything close to normal. No, it was the sense of familiarity. The feeling that this was home…that she was home.
Snap out of it.
This wasn’t home. Home was something he hadn’t had in ages, not since he left his parent’s house for the military straight out of high school. This was an illusion, a glimpse of what life could be like if he’d gone down a different route. If he hadn’t chosen to join the muck and grime, all in the name of being a hero.
Somewhere along the way it had become harder and harder to distinguish the heroism in what he was doing. His life held no black and whites—he lived in the shade of gray. And Andie? Well her life was pure light. And that’s where she deserved to be.
Still, after he sent the picture to Eddie along with an update on his and Andie’s current situation, he found himself heading back to the warmth of the kitchen, with its comforting smells and tempting chef.
Music was playing in the background and he had to raise his voice slightly to be heard. “Can I help?”
She spun around at the sound of his voice and by her smile one would think he’d just offered to buy her a pony. “That would be great. There’s salad makings in the fridge. Maybe you could get started on that?”
He did as he was told and for a little while they worked side by side in companionable silence. Until a song she liked came on. Then the silence was broken by her cheerfully and unashamedly bursting into song, using a pair of tongs as an impromptu mic.
When it was done, she curtseyed and bowed as he gave a teasing applause. Straightening, she met his gaze. “I like when you do that.”
He reached for the wine bottle and opener. Lord, when was the last time he’d had a nice bottle of wine with a woman and not a cheap beer on his own? “Do what? Open wine?”
“Smile.”
He glanced up from the bottle in surprise. Was he smiling? It was hard not to around this woman. As she continued to watch him, he reached a hand up and touched the corner of his mouth. “So that’s what this tugging sensation is.”
Her mouth fell open before she let out a loud belly laugh. “Oh my gosh, he made a joke.”
He found himself laughing along with her as he turned back to the bottle. She set two glasses next to him. “So tell me about being an undercover cop.”
He hesitated before pouring a glass. “I don’t know,” he started slowly.
She hopped up on the counter beside him, so close he could move just a little and brush up against her thigh. “Oh come on, your secret is out. Might as well give me the whole story.”
He handed her a full glass and picked up his own. “It’s not like it is in the movies.” He’d meant it as a warning. People thought it sounded intriguing, but if they knew what it was really like, they’d never look at him the same.
“No, I don’t suppose it would be,” she said softly. The teasing had gone from her voice and when he looked over she was surprisingly serious. “I can’t even imagine. There must be a lot of compromises. It must be hard not to lose yourself at times.”
He stared at her in shock—something he felt he’d been doing too much since she’d walked into his life. “Yeah, something like that.” His voice sounded gruffer than usual. Something like that? It was a spot on assessment from someone who shouldn’t know the first thing about it.
In his silence, she kept talking, taking sips in between her words. “I can’t put myself in your shoes. To be honest, I don’t think I’d ever want to. I have a hard enough time knowing who I am in my real life, let alone a fake one.”
“I have a hard time believing that.”
She blinked at him in surprise and he leaned