And that’s all. He continues to eat, and I shove more food in my face to stop me from saying anything else dumb. I eat the last bite, and I scrape my plate to get the tail end of the alfredo sauce. I don’t want to waste any of it. This seems to please Dustin, because he sits back with a goofy smile on his face.
“That was delicious,” I say to explain why I’m scraping my plate.
“Thanks.”
“So, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.” I stand and gather up the plates and silverware to take to the sink. He follows me, along with Squint, whose collar jingles as he runs to catch up to us.
I set the dishes in the sink, plug it, and turn on the water.
“What are you doing?”
“The dishes.” I open the cupboard under his sink to look for the soap. I pull up a bottle of dishwashing liquid.
“You don’t have to do them. I have staff that comes in.”
Oh. Of course. Heat rushes to my face. Dumb mistake. I’m supposed to be Jera, a rich actor who doesn’t lift a finger. Now I have to make up something. “I just thought I’d take care of them real quick. Save them the trouble.”
He shuts off the sink. “Don’t you have staff?”
“Of course.” Then I realize I haven’t seen any staff since I’d come. Did Jera give them time off? Wait, I think I remember her saying something like that when we were on the phone. She must have been worried I’d give her away. It’s looking more and more like her worries are warranted.
“But you do your own dishes?”
“Sometimes. I like the sudsy bubbles. They’re fun.” I’m babbling now, and I sound like an idiot.
Dustin laughs. “So, you’re saying I’m missing out on a lot of fun by not washing my own dishes?”
“Tons.” I try not to roll my eyes at how ridiculous that sounds.
“Well, then, who am I to take away our fun? Maybe we should do the dishes.” He takes the dishwashing liquid from me, and my skin tingles where our fingers touch. “How much of this do we need?”
I eye him skeptically. “You seriously have never done dishes before?”
He shrugs. “I’ve always had staff to do them.”
Wow. I hold in my surprise. “How much soap you use depends on how many bubbles you want.”
“If the bubbles are the fun part, then lots.”
He smiles and my heart does a little flippy thing inside my chest. I turn the water back on. “Put in a generous amount then.”
He flips the lid up and squeezes the soap into the sink like he’s a mad scientist.
“Whoa, not that much!” I giggle as the suds immediately start forming.
“Did I do it wrong already?” His tone is teasing, and I’m sure he did it on purpose.
I pull out the sprayer and spray all the dish soap, making the bubbles mount higher. “It’s okay. We’ll just have to rinse them really well.” In a rash moment I dip my finger in the suds and swipe it across his nose. I have no idea what came over me, but I can’t help but laugh at how it looks and his surprised expression.
He swipes the suds off his nose and chuckles. “Is this how you do dishes?”
“Yes.”
He eyes my sprayer. “That looks like fun. Can I try it?”
“Why?” I don’t have to ask. I know why he wants the sprayer.
“Because it’s not fair if you have all the fun.”