|She grabbed another unlabeled can, hobbled back to the table and dropped the cans on the scarred wood then slapped down a pan in front of the plate. As she reached for the knife, the door opened and Lucas entered.
"What's with the ruckus? You're supposed to be resting."
"How would you know what I'm doing? You don't even have the decency to show your face."
"What's got you all riled?"
"Trouble, that's what you think of me. Have I ever given you reason for that?"
"I never said you were trouble."
"Don't mince words with me, Lucas." She pointed the knife toward him. "We both know what you meant."
"About that. I might have been wrong."
"You don't say."
Close this window