“Ah.” He nodded as he reached into the bag and took out two graham crackers and set them on his lap.
His movements pulled her mind away from the conversation. She was trying to catch him in a lie and make him admit he was there to watch over her, not to value things. Instead, he mesmerized her with those long fingers and strong hands.
With a small shake of her head she forced her brain back to the topic. “You see my confusion.”
“I do.” With one hand he opened the paper on a chocolate bar... or tried to. “I’m actually waiting for the investigator.”
“What?”
All that fumbling had her reaching over to help. She took the chocolate bar out of his hand and ripped the paper back. Broke off two chunks then handed them to him.
“Thank you.” He trapped one end of the stick between his knees. The marshmallow dipped down closer to the fire. “The items we were talking about are likely worth a lot of money. Poking around before the investigator gets here struck me as a way to get blamed for something I didn’t do.”
The marshmallow was on fire now. She had trouble concentrating on anything else. “You think someone will accuse you of stealing?”
“Your uncle seemed to have the blame gene.”
“Definitely.”For God’s sake. She grabbed the stick. A quick blow on the end and she saved the marshmallow from a fiery death. “So, your plan is to sleep outside all night?”
“I’ll venture into the guesthouse eventually. But this setup looked pretty inviting.”
“My parents added this when I was about sixteen. Tabitha had just turned nine and she loved s’mores.”
He put his chocolate cracker concoction together and handed it to her. “Of course. Who doesn’t?”
She waved him off. “Me.”
“What?” His eyes widened as his hand dropped to his lap. “That’s an outrage.”
Fake or not, the horror in his voice made her laugh. “Tabitha thought so, too. I think begging for the fire pit was her way of trying to cure me of my misguided ways.”
For a second he stared at the dessert in his hand. When he looked at her again concern shined in his eyes. “I really am sorry about what happened to her.”
Sensing he meant it, she skipped her usual smart-ass responses and dodging. “Thanks.”
“Being here has to be—”
“Impossible.” Gabby reached over and took a piece of the graham cracker that hadn’t been ruined by marshmallow. “It’s every nightmare, every dark and horrible thought rolled into one.”
“Sounds like I might not be the only one toying with the idea of sleeping outside.”
She nodded toward the house. “I’m not going in there.”
“You mean, ever?” He took a bite of the s’more.
“Not yet.” She reached across his thighs to the bag and took a full graham cracker this time. “How did you think I was able to spy on you all day? I was lingering outside as well.”
“Impressive skills, by the way.”
“I’ve gotten used to looking over my shoulder.” She popped the cracker in her mouth but she really couldn’t taste it.
“Is this the part where I’m not allowed to pretend ignorance?”
She was impressed he’d actually listened this afternoon. That was more than most people did. But it didn’t mean that she wanted to revisit any part of that topic.
With a hard swallow, she got the cracker down then dumped the rest on the bench between them. “How exactly does one become an art appraiser?”
That sexy smile of his came roaring back. “We’re changing the subject?”