“A few years.” She sat down. Wait, was that too weird? She didn’t have anything else to keep her hands busy, but he was still bustling around her kitchen as if she were the visitor. “My family helped me build it after college.” She managed a smile. “After the dorms and a couple of years of apartments, I was ready for my own space instead of moving back into Dad’s house.”

LJ went back to the front door and took off his hat, hanging it on a hook next to her jacket before toeing off his boots.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. These floors have seen plenty of boots.”

He shrugged, padding back to the kitchen in his socks. He hooked a foot around a chair leg and pulled it out, relaxing into the seat. She didn’t often see him without his hat, and her gaze kept flicking back to him. His hair was buzzed so close it was barely more than a shadow of black, leaving nothing to detract from the distracting line of his jaw. And his lips.

“You built this?” His brows bounced up, and he glanced around the great room, scanning the lines a little more analytically this time. “I’m going to pretend like I’m not impressed right now.”

“Oh, we hired out some of the plumbing and all the electric. Curt helped a lot. He’s one of the grooms. You’ve probably met him. And an architect fixed up my basic plans.” She shrugged. “I still drove plenty of nails, though.” Not that it mattered. What did she care if he thought she was the kind of girl who sat back and waited for other people to build her house?

LJ picked up the knife to cut the cake, saying something she didn’t catch. The blade looked impossibly long and sharp in his huge hand. Her fingers clenched in her lap, and she deliberately looked at the clean white of the cabinets below the sink.

Relax. There’s a whole room here, not just a knife.

LJ glanced over, then reversed his grip, handing the knife handle-first across the table to her. “Must have left my manners at home today, helping myself to your cake in your house.” He smiled. “Lemon velvet’s my favorite, is all. If I get grabby, feel free to slap my hands.”

Andra took the knife. The metal reflected her image back at her, including her “May The HORSE Be With You” T-shirt. The one with the hay-colored stain at the shoulder. Yeah, she was so prepared for guests.

Suddenly, the thought of another hour of pretending they weren’t both thinking about it seemed overwhelming.

“It was a panic attack.” She laid down the knife and met his gaze without flinching. “I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now.”

He nodded. “Was it because I startled you, coming out of the shadows like that?”