Heat crept into her skin at the endearment, though she didn’t get the feeling he was really flirting with her. She glanced away, the afterimage of him seared on her lids. His deep-brown eyes were a couple of shades darker than his skin, and they always seemed to be laughing. He was handsome, with high cheekbones and sensual lips. The kind of man she would have looked twice at, once.

He was also the first non-Lawler man she’d had in her house since it was built.

Andra shook herself. Normal people did not make their guests spend the entire visit standing in the foyer. As she led him farther inside, their shapes were reflected in the French doors separating the living area from her bedroom, their distressed white paint framing glistening glass panes. She’d rescued the doors from her mom’s room before they tore down the old house, and Dad hung them on a barn door rail for her so they slid aside, taking up less space.

“The kitchen’s right here.” She gestured, then dropped her hand quickly. Her whole house was basically two rooms plus a bath, and he wasn’t blind. She didn’t need to map out the refrigerator and sink for his comprehension.

He gave a low whistle. “My sweet God. My mama would kill for this kitchen. Do you mind if I take a picture for her?”

“Uh, sure. If you want to. Here, I’ll take that.” She lifted the cake from his hands. For its size, it was surprisingly light, as if it were whipped from sugared air with a touch of cream. She set it on the table while LJ took out his phone and snapped a picture of her open barn-wood shelves stacked with white dishes, and the riverstone-pebbled wall behind the sink.

He grinned as he shook his head and tapped out a quick text to go with the pictures. “My little cake is just about embarrassed to be seen in a place this nice.”

He leaned back against her counter, crossing his feet at the ankles as he texted, and she bit the inside of her lip. Originally, she’d painted this room white so it would look bright and cheery, but it had always seemed blank instead. LJ’s smile belonged in her homey little kitchen in a way she never had.

Andra blinked and looked away. “I’ll get some silverware.” She rattled through one drawer, and the one below it, but neither held a cake knife or a pie server. Instead, she settled on a couple of forks and a butcher knife. By the time she was finished, LJ had already lifted plates off her shelves and set them on her round café table.

“This place looks pretty new.” He ripped two paper towels off the roll and tucked one under the edge of each plate for a napkin. “You lived here long?”