Page 22 of Arctic Panda's Secret Mate
Would it be that easy?
18
HAISLEY
Haisley burst out laughing, then sobered immediately when Tristan didn’t laugh with her.
Was he making a joke at her expense? Was it some kind of trick? Was he trying to get back at her for her various pranks? Was it some kind of slang she didn’t understand? “Okay,” she said, because she couldn’t find anything else to say. She felt like patting him on the head and sayingyou’re a good panda bear.
This whole encounter was very confusing, and Tristan was still staring at her sort ofbesottedly. Haisley was used to feeling invisible, as hired help often was, and this was rather nice but also quite confusing.
“I’m going to get a little more to eat, if you don’t mind,” Haisley said. Maybe this would all make more sense once she wasn’t so ravenous.
“You don’t get anything to eat all day?” Tristan sounded outraged, which Haisley found sweet of him. “This won’t work.”
“I have some snacks and stuff,” Haisley said hastily, ashe stood aside so she could go first where the dining room narrowed. “They just get a little boring. I’m not starving or anything.”
To her delight, Tristan immediately offered to make her food. “What do you like? I’m not a cook like Chef, but I could make you a sandwich, or heat up some noodles. Here, sit!” There were a few stools in the kitchen, drawn up at one of the islands. Haisley perched on one while Tristan busied himself across from her.
Haisley hadn’t had anyone make her food outside of a restaurant since she left home, and she found the whole process quite novel. “A sandwich would be great. Sourdough bread is my favorite. Light on the mustard, heavy on the mayo. Pastrami and swiss, please.”
Tristan added lettuce and onion and pepperoncinis with her approval, and they talked about favorite foods. “I don’t mind handling meat or being around people enjoying it,” Tristan said, when Haisley belatedly asked. “I just feel queasy eating it myself and my bear finds it distasteful.”
Haisley let that statement slide and asked if his family was supportive of him not eating meat, which led to sharing childhood stories. He’d grown up in Florida, she’d grown up in Colorado. They both had single parents; she had a needy mother and he had a distant father.
“If we smooshed our families together, we’d have one perfect one,” Haisley laughed.
“Like the Parent Trap, but…”
Hailsey wondered if she imagined the heated implication in the way he trailed off. “Not siblings.”
“Not siblings,” he agreed firmly.
“I wouldn’t wish my mother on anyone,” Haisley said, around a mouthful of delicious sandwich. “Don’t worry that I’m trying to set your dad up.”
“I wasn’t,” Tristan said quickly, sounding horrified. “It was a poor analogy.”
“Analogies shouldn’t be taken too seriously,” Haisley said, reaching out to pat his hand comfortingly. He was sitting on the stool next to her, just far enough away that it was a little bit of a reach.
She immediately worried that she’d made a mistake.
The touch of his skin on her fingers caused her shivery pleasure, and she was watching his face when the contact happened and saw him suck in his breath. His eyes widened and his teeth gritted. It was electric, like she’d completed a circuit and for a moment, she was incapable of taking her hand back.
“Haisley…” Tristan murmured.
Haisley remembered at the last moment that she was holding a sandwich in her other hand and she yanked away and used both hands to take her next bite. It was hard to swallow. Her stomach was fluttering and her heart was pounding like she was running a marathon. How starved for company had she gotten in three days?
“I saw you fixed the drawer in the dining room,” Haisley blurted around her mouthful. “Thank you. And you found the carving tools. Did you end up making ornaments? I’d love to see them.”
“They didn’t turn out,” Tristan said. “They looked like…they looked bad. I’m more rusty than I thought. I don’t know what I’m going to give everyone.”
Haisley’s sympathy overwhelmed her wild libido. “Oh, don’t feel bad. I’ve always been bad at presents. I always fall back on cookies. Everyone loves cookies. I can help you make some, if you want?”
“I’d like that,” Tristan said. He was rubbing the place that she’d touched him like he’d felt the same lightning attraction and was equally unsure what to do about it.
“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, you can meet me here tomorrow night and we can bake up a storm. We’ve got all the ingredients. We can do shortbread, ginger chunk cookies, butterballs, chocolate crinkles, peppermint candies.” Haisley had already hopped down from her stool and dashed for the cabinet to a binder specifically for sweets.
“Will it still count as a gift from me?” Tristan asked. He was back to smiling.
