Page 41 of A Home for Harmony

“Help yourself,” he said.

“I like your house, by the way,” she said with her head in the fridge. “How about omelets with some veggies?”

“That works,” he said, getting a big pan. He could make one massive omelet and they could split it.

There were eggs, cheese, peppers and tomatoes put on the counter.

“Do you normally eat all these vegetables or have them for Scarlet?”

“Scarlet likes to snack on raw veggies and hummus. Or salads. I’ve always got it here.”

If it looked as if it was going to go bad, he’d force it down.

“Is it okay to eat it then on her?”

“I do all the time,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

He got a bowl down and cracked eggs into it while Harmony cut up the peppers.

“You don’t have to work today, right?”

“No,” he said. “I do have to work tomorrow though.”

“And Scarlet will be home soon, right?”

He looked at the clock on the microwave and expected his daughter home before noon, but it was only seven. He’d bet anything she wasn’t even up yet.

“In a few hours,” he said.

“I’ll be gone after breakfast,” she said. “I don’t want you to have to worry about that.”

He’d pulled Harmony’s car into his garage last night. He said it was so it’d be warm for her in the morning or she wouldn’t have to clear or scrape the frost off, but it had more to do with anyone—like Trinda—driving by and seeing the car here late.

“It’s fine,” he said.

She poked him in the side. “You can be honest with me, Micah. You were clear last night at dinner. Scarlet has met no woman you’ve dated. I know I’m younger, but I’m not clingy and I’m not going to put you in any position that makes you feel uncomfortable.”

“Maybe I want to be in uncomfortable positions with you,” he said, smirking.

“There is that humor again. Those positions work just fine.” She cut up the tomatoes and he whisked the eggs and dropped them into the hot pan.

“What do we have?” he asked after a few minutes of silence. It didn’t seem to bother her as she was sitting at the tabledrinking coffee now. She didn’t even have her phone out looking at it when many others would.

“I don’t know,” she said. “What do you want to have? I think, for one, it has to be exclusive, and I should have said that last night before I attacked you in your house.”

“I think the attacking was mutual,” he said. “Being exclusive is a given. I don’t share.”

Her eyes widened some over the fierceness of his voice. Maybe he should have toned it down.

“Me neither,” she said. “Someone cheated on me once. It was hard to get past it.”

“Who the hell would cheat on you? You’re just about perfect.”

His stance was matching the tone of his voice now.

“That’s so sweet,” she said. “But no one is perfect. Other than you with that facial hair.” She was waving her hand in front of her face. “Seriously hot. Can you have facial hair in your job, or is it a personal preference?”

“They’ve lightened up on facial hair a little, but it’s a habit to shave before work. If I’m not working, I let it go.”