They finished their pudding and she automatically got up to clear the table. “You go make your calls or whatever you need to do.” The baby monitor had stayed silent. Bella was okay. And she could wash a few dishes.
But he shook his head. “I’m not going to leave you to clean up alone. You’re helping me enough.”
Warmth spiraled through her. She’d always known he appreciated her help, but it never hurt to hear the words.
After gathering the dishes, she walked them to the sink.
His eyebrows rose. “You’re not using the dishwasher?”
“For a couple dishes? We can have these done in five minutes. The dishwasher will take forty and tons more water.”
As she filled a sink, he found a dishtowel, slung it over his shoulder, then finished clearing the table.
When the sink was filled to capacity with dirty dishes and sparkling bubbles, she washed a plate, rinsed it and put it in the dish drainer. “Somebody must wash dishes in here. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be a drainer.”
“I think my cook prefers to wash the pots.”
She peeked at him through her peripheral vision. “Really?”
“She’s very fussy about her pots.”
“Makes sense, I guess. I don’t cook much.” She glanced at him again. “Not much reason to cook for one.”
“Unless you’re hungry.”
“I eat a big lunch.”
“Oh, so in other words if you ever got married and had someone to cook for, you’d start eating supper and get as round as Bella?”
She gaped at him. “Did you just call Bella fat?”
“She’s not fat. She’s healthy.”
Her eyebrow rose. “And I’m not?”
His mouth fell open. “I didn’t say that!”
She caught a handful of soap bubbles in her cupped hand and flung them at him. She’d intended to hit his T-shirt. Instead, she got his nose.
The expression on his face was priceless. But shock quickly morphed into challenge. “You wanna go?”
She eeked. “No! You’re the one who called me fat.”
“I called Bella fat and you unhealthy. According to you.” He reached down, scooped out some bubbles and flipped them into her face.
She gasped and, without thought, got more bubbles and flung them at him. “You said what you said.”
“You misinterpreted what I said.” He grabbed a bigger handful of suds. With a quick twist of his wrist, he got her hair.
“Hey!” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t mess up my hair!”
“You weren’t worried about my nose.”
“Okay. Fine. If that’s how you want it, this is war!”
“Ha! You think you can beat me! I know every corner of this kitchen. And my sister Charlotte and I were very adept at avoiding our other sisters when we were younger.” He filled an available cup with water and darted around the table, behind a chair. “Bring it.”
“You wouldn’t throw an entire cup of water at me!”
“Guess again.”
“And who’s going to clean up the mess?”
He shrugged. “Us. When we’re done with our war.”
Her face contorted. “Why throw the water when you end up having to clean it up?”
“For the fun of the war.” He walked from behind the table. “You really didn’t have much of a childhood.”
She shrugged. “Looks like I didn’t.”
“Great.” He dribbled some water on her head.
Expecting his sympathy and getting a shower, she jumped back sputtering. “What are you doing!”
“We’re at war, remember? If I were you, I’d get a cup.”
Her eyes narrowed, but he only grinned. Knowing he wouldn’t stay passive long, she raced to the sink and got a cup of water, but she paused. “This is ridiculous.”
She watched his face sort of deflate. Cup in hand, he walked to the sink, clearly disappointed that he’d failed in getting her to play. When he was close enough, she sloshed the water out of her cup and onto his shirt.
He gasped and jumped back. “You tricked me.”
She refilled her cup and scampered away. “All is fair in love and war.”
“Oh, this is so on.”
She ran to the kitchen island, shielding herself behind it and the rows of pots that hung above it.
“You have to come out sometime.”
“Not really. I think I can safely protect myself behind this island for the rest of the war.”
She bounced out for one quick slosh toward him, the way an Old West gunfighter bounces from behind a tree just long enough to shoot, then was back behind her island again.
He bent away from the spray. “You missed me.”
“I’ll get you next time.”
He nudged his chin in the direction of her cup. “Not without water.” He glanced around. “Let’s see. I have a whole cup of water and I stand between you and the sink.” He smiled evilly. “Who’s winning now?”
She said, “Eek!” and dodged to the right.
When she got to the open space in the overhead pots, he flung his water at her and got her on the chest, soaking her T-shirt.
She glanced down at it in amazement. Then up at him. Then burst out laughing. “All right. One of us has to call a truce.”
He walked to the sink. Refilled his cup. Displayed it for her to see. “Or one of us has to surrender.”
“Okay. Now you’re just being childish.”
“And throwing cups of water wasn’t? We’re just having fun…and I think you’re trying to talk your way out of losing the war.”
“I’m trying to talk us back to adulthood.”
“Why?” He glanced around. “No one’s here. No one cares.”
But she cared. When he behaved like a silly, fun guy, strange feelings of warmth and happiness danced through her. And fantasies began to spin in her head. She’d never wanted a stuffy, formal family. She wanted a happy family. With a happy dad. And right now he was behaving as if he could be one.
But he couldn’t. He was Wall Street’s Iceman. This little thing they were doing with the water had to be an aberration.
She raised her hands in surrender. “All right. I surrender.”
A look of disappointment flitted across his face, but he didn’t put his cup down. Like the town sheriff arresting the bad guy, he brandished it like a gun. “Walk your cup to the sink.”
She laughed. “This is ridiculous.”
“No, this is how a smart man ends a war, especially when his opponent has already duped him once.”
She giggled. “Really? Seriously? I have to walk my cup to the sink.”
“And dump out the contents.”
As she ambled to the sink, he edged around, so he could see her every move.
She laughed again.
“Now