Page 45 of Jesse and the Ice Princess
"Don't apologize."
"I'm sorry, I won't."
His smile widened. "Did you just apologize for apologizing?" He stepped into the hall and closed his door. "Come on, you can help me cook dinner."
What teenage boy cooked dinner for his family? Charlotte didn't even cook just for herself. They dodged toys on their way through the messy house and Jesse gave her a sheepish look. "I haven't had a chance to clean lately and the boys’ caretaker is only part time."
The kitchen, unlike the rest of the downstairs was impeccable. Gleaming white surfaces and cheery blue walls welcomed them.
"Welcome to my domain." Jesse went to the fridge and started pulling things out. He glanced back at her. "How pathetic would it be to invite you to dinner and then make you help me cook?"
Rolling up the sleeves of her sweater, she smiled, marveling at how normal all of this felt. "What are we making?"
"Jesse's famous French toast."
"Ah, famous, huh? I might not be up to the task."
He straightened and walked to the counter. "Want to know my secret ingredient?"
She nodded.
"Bread." He laughed as he tossed a loaf her way. "Come on, I'll show you how to whisk the eggs."
"I know how to whisk eggs." She bit back a smile.
"Well, aren't you just a professional?" He winked.
Jesse Carrigan was known for his charm, but maybe it wasn't an act as she'd always thought. Could he actually be as nice as he seemed?
"Cass," he yelled.
Cassie popped her head through the door. "Yes, your Highness?"
"Set the table, my lady."
"As you wish." She dug into a drawer for silverware before pointing a knife at Jesse. "Don't burn the bacon or it's the chopping block for you."
Once she was gone, a laugh bubbled out of Charlotte.
Jesse grinned. "I don't think I've ever seen you relaxed like this."
"Have you ever thought it's because you don't know me at all? All you knew was the persona your friends forced on me at school."
"Fair enough." He ripped open the bacon and placed each piece on a cookie sheet. "It's amazing though."
"What is?"
"My sister... she doesn't..." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked to the door she'd disappeared through.
"Does it have to do with your mom?"
His eyes widened as they found hers. "How could you know that?"
"I saw a picture of her in Cassie's room. She's dead, isn't she?"
He nodded. "It’s been two years since someone killed her. Cassie was there at my mom's side. She watched her die. Since then, she's scared of the entire world."
"PTSD?"
