Page 45 of Hacking the Holidays
“Well, I can’t leave just yet,” I said, glancing down at my lap. “If I go outside in these wet pants, everything down there will freeze.”
Chloe glanced at Rose with obvious amusement. “You should stay and keep him company, since you caused this mess. Have fun. Enjoy the rest of the evening, and I’ll see you back at the room.”
After Eleanor and Chloe left, I glanced at Rose, still looking guilty about the assault on my dignity.
“Hey—don’t worry about it,” I said. “It’s not that bad. Seriously.”
“I’ve got issues,” she said with a sigh.
“You and everyone else in the world. You just like to show yours off.”
“I’ll buy the next round,” she offered desperately. “As an apology.”
“Let’s make it coffee, so if you spill it on me, it’ll keep me warm,” I said with a chuckle.
“Not funny,” Rose said.
“You’re lovely when you’re cranky, you know that?” I said with a grin before I could stop myself.
What am I doing?
Rose tilted her head slightly, studying me with those sharp, analytical eyes. “Are you flirting with me?”
There was no point in pretending—she was clearly too intelligent to buy whatever deflection I might attempt.
“Actually, I was wondering the same thing,” I admitted.
“And have you reached a conclusion?” she asked, her tone carrying the clinical curiosity someone might use when discussing an interesting scientific hypothesis.
“Well,” I said, thinking about it for a moment, “if we’re applying standard behavioral analysis to the situation, I’d say I exhibited several classic indicators of flirtation—humor with personal compliment undertones, maintaining eye contact, a wide grin, and the timing of my delivery, of course, which was at an optimal moment.”
Rose’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Interesting assessment, though perhaps your comment was simply an attempt at humor designed to ease my obvious embarrassment of spilling beer on you.”
“An excellent point,” I conceded, finding myself genuinely engaged by her methodical approach to what most people would handle with awkward laughter. “But the grin was probably the determining factor that skews it more in the flirting direction. Purely practical consolation wouldn’t require facial expressions that could be classified as inviting.”
“So, you’re concluding it was indeed flirting then?”
“The evidence seems to support that hypothesis,” I said, unable to suppress a smile at how we’d just turned this casual conversation into what sounded like a peer-reviewed study. “Why? You’re not so sure now?”
“The only thing I’m sure of at the moment is that I would like to find a giant rock to crawl under,” Rose said.
“Well, you’re in luck—Leavenworth has an excellent selection to choose from. We’ve got everything from basic hiding rocks to deluxe shame-concealment boulders near Icicle Creek. I could probably give you a geological tour of the best?—”
Rose crossed her arms and gave me a look that could have frozen the Wenatchee River in an instant.
I held up my hands in surrender. “Maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut.”
“Excellent plan,” she said, but I caught the hint of asmile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Also, for the record, you were definitely flirting.”
I smirked. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.” I chuckled, then asked, “Speaking of which, what’s your IQ?”
Rose’s eyebrows arched. “That’s a very direct and personal question, don’t you think?”
“Call it professional curiosity,” I said. “I’m trying to understand how someone processes information so quickly. What you did at the library was absolutely brilliant.”
“It was nothing,” she said with a shrug.
“Nothing for someone whose IQ is …” I leaned closer, eagerly waiting for an answer.
