Brett: I noticed. Kid’s got strong opinions about crab habitats.
Me: He gets that from my dad. Give him five minutes, and he’ll explain why blue crabs are superior to Dungeness.
Brett: I’d rather hear your thoughts on crab cake recipes.
Warmth settles in my chest. He’s not just being polite.
Me: Now you’re talking my language. Grandma’s secret was the breadcrumb ratio.
Brett: Of course it was. Everything comes down to ratios.
Me: Spoken like a true contractor.
Brett: You say that like it’s a bad thing.
Me: Not bad. Just... practical. Methodical. Very serious.
Brett: I’m extremely serious.
I can practically see him scowling at his phone, which makes me grin.
Me: I can tell. You probably measure your coffee.
Brett: I do measure my coffee.
Me: Of course you do. Let me guess. You also iron your t-shirts?
Brett: What’s wrong with ironed t-shirts?
Me: Nothing! It’s very... civilized. Controlled. Very you.
Brett: You say that like it’s a character flaw.
Me: Not a flaw. Just different from someone who color-codes their spice rack by mood.
Brett: You color-code by mood?
Me: Only on Tuesdays.
There’s a pause, then:
Brett: I can’t tell if you’re joking.
Me: That’s part of my charm.
Brett: Is that what we’re calling it?
The teasing tone makes my stomach flutter.
Me: What would you call it?
Brett: Complicated.
There’s that word again. The one he said like it was dangerous.
Me: I prefer ‘delightfully unpredictable.’
Brett: Same thing.