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General Winter shook his head, setting it on Christian’s desk. “Not at all. You always get good food.”

“Well, except for that one time when the Chinese hit us both wrong,” Christian reminded him.

“Yes, and they still haven’t stopped sending apology letters with coupons,” General Winter said dryly.

“I know. I’ve used some of them for my lunch,” Christian said as he popped another forkful into his mouth.

“I can’t believe you’ve gone back to them,” General Winter said.

Christian shrugged. “Everyone makes mistakes. Plus, their crab Rangoon is too good to pass up. It’s the best I’ve ever tasted.”

General Winter raised a brow. “I don’t know if I’ve said it before, but why am I not surprised that someone as little as you is a food person?”

Christian looked down at his midsection with a frown. “Little? I’m not little.”

Maybe he looked little to the general, who stood over six feet and had at least thirty, if not forty pounds on him, but Christian thought he did pretty well for himself. He’d settled at a perfectly reasonable five-foot-nine and, with a bit of work, managed to get close to almost one hundred seventy pounds.

Christian snorted. “I bet you also refer to me as a kid when I’m not around.”

General Winter hesitated. “I can’t say I’ve ever referred to you as a kid.”

Hearing that made Christian smile warmly. General Winter had never treated him as anything but a capable adult, which is more than could be said for some people Christian had met in the general’s age group. Not being seen as a kid made it far more comfortable for Christian to enjoy ogling the older man when he had the chance. He might know damn well that he had to keep his hands to himself, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the view. And if the general didn’t make it strange by seeing him as a kid or some sort of son figure, then all the better for Christian’s fantasies.

“Well, that’s good, but I still reserve the right to color on my off time,” Christian told him.

“You color?”

Christian nodded. “I get a good coloring session in now and again. It was something cheap for my foster parents to buy me. Of course, now, as an adult, I can buy good colored pencils.”

“Colored pencils, huh?”

“Colored pencils are the superior coloring tool, and no one can change my mind. Trust me, my sisters have tried.”

“Clearly, they don’t have any taste.”

“That’s what I keep telling them!”

General Winter chuckled, shaking his head. “And I’m sure they’re bound to listen to reason one of these days.”

Christian poked a fork in his direction. “I know when I’m being mocked, but I also know I’m right, so I’ll deal with it.”

General Winter smiled. “Well, at least you have that going for you.”

“Yes, my ability to withstand being harassed has come in handy more than once.”

“I was referring to your willingness to entertain yourself, to have something you enjoy doing. Both of us know working in this office isn’t the most leisurely of jobs, and you’re required to do a great deal, and then you do double that. It’s nice to hear you have something other than work.”

That went a long way toward confirming Christian’s steadfast belief that General Winter really and truly did care about the men and women who served under him. It was the same man who had tried and failed to get Christian to unload some of his work onto someone else, another assistant. It was also the same person who’d constantly given Christian hell about his chips and candy habit until, finally, Christian had given in and switched to veggies and fruits.

And to his great dismay, he enjoyed them.

“What about you? What do you do in your off time?” Christian asked.

“Crosswords.”

Christian blinked. “Crosswords?”

General Winter laughed. “Yes, crosswords.”