Well, that was a new one. She stirred while he assembled the metal framing.

“Wait,” he said. “I figured you’d have something funky and uber creative to add to the recipe.”

She said nothing, just glanced at him.

“Oh, I see. Not sharing your secrets, huh?”

She raised an eyebrow.

He held up his hands. “I get it.”

“Well, most of the time you don’t add those things until after the base has cooked.”

His silence made her laugh.

“Let me guess…”

Declan sighed as he finished the framing. “Yes, okay? Another mistake made by yours truly.”

“Don’t feel bad. I remember some doozy errors in my early days.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, just basic stuff.”

“Like what I’m doing.”

She sighed. “Yes, and more.” And suddenly, the past rose up, tied a knot inside her.

“Lily? What’s that face for?”

She looked up, and he stood closer than before, brow furrowed. Almost like he cared.

“It’s nothing.”

“I know you. That’s notnothing.”

He knew her? She refused to let those words land while she turned the fudge round and round in the pot while it heated. “When I was ten or eleven, I completely ruined a batch of fudge. It went rock hard because I overbeat it.”

“Doesn’t seem like such a big deal to me.” Declan took the candy thermometer off the wall, stuck it into the fudge.

Two-seventeen. Still a bit to go.

“Yeah, well, I was…I was daydreaming. Conjuring up a new recipe in my head. My grandpa was furious.”

“I did hear he was a bit of a hot temper.”

She gave him the side eye. “You’ve heard, huh?”

He held up his hands. “Yes, and it has nothing to do with the names he may or may not have called my grandpa when he accused him of theft.”

“Oh.” She could imagine that. “Well, he probably had his reasons.” Oops. She wasn’t trying to reignite the war.

Apparently, he wasn’t either. “Sorry.” The thermometer beeped upward. Closer to being ready. “So, what happened with your grandpa?”

“He basically told me to stop being an airhead.” She shouldn’t be telling him this—but frankly, talking to him felt…

Stupidly easy.