Her hair is piled into a messy bun on the top of her head as she appears to glue pieces of something together.
I pour a cup of coffee, swallowing hard. “Thank you for fixing the fridge,” I say, not looking at her.
I felt like an ass yesterday when Noah told me that everything in the fridge was out of its usual order because she had to empty it to fix it.
A huge ass.
And after the surprise wore off, I was impressed. So much of the world simply replaces broken things or hires out to have it fixed, not wanting to trouble themselves to learn things on their own. Even with the plethora of help there is on the Internet.
She’s self-sufficient.
When she still hasn’t responded, I turn around, taking a drink from my mug as I slowly approach.
She pieces together a plate that appears to have broken, gluing each piece carefully together.
It’s one of our green ones. The corner of my mouth turns up in a small smile.
She really didn’t have to bother. It’s a cheap plate, and they’re easy to break.
I shoot my eyes up to her face again—her gaze focused, lips closed, and her breathing even and controlled like I’m not standing right here.
“Tiernan?” I say again.
But she still doesn’t respond. Jesus, it’s like talking to my kids. Are all teenagers like this?
Putting the last piece in place, she holds it for a few moments and then takes a paper towel to clean up any bubbled glue.
“Is there anything I can help with today?” she suddenly asks, finally glancing up at me.
Huh?
She looks up at me, stray strands of hair falling around her face and in her eyes, and again, I’m taken off guard. I’d braced myself for a confrontation after the way I’d acted yesterday, but… she’s ready to move on. Should I push a conversation or let it alone?
I run my hand over my scalp. Whatever. If she’s going to make this easy for me, I won’t complain.
“Yeah,” I say, letting out a sigh of relief.
She rises from her chair, standing up right in front of me, but her eyes immediately land on my chest, and she quickly looks away.
I tighten my lips and pull my T-shirt out of my back pocket to slip it on. Hannes—who was born wearing a suit—and Brynmor—an education that’s comprised of same-sex classmates, I guess she’s not used to this. She’ll get her feet wet here, though.
“Where do you need me?” she asks, looking ready to be anywhere but the kitchen.
I hide my smile. “I have to…um, milk Bernadette,” I tell her as I turn around to grab a cup of coffee.
Her gaze falters.
“The cow,” I explain. “The horses need to be fed, and the stalls need to be cleared. Noah will show you how it’s done.”
“And then?”
And then?
I grip my mug, leaning against the counter. “We have work in the shop to get to, so if you want to do breakfast…that’d be a big help.”
I should’ve asked nicer yesterday.
She simply nods.
I start to walk past her but stop and look down at her. “The bacon exactly like you did it yesterday,” I say. “Got it?”
She keeps her eyes planted on the floor for another moment, but then she looks up and meets my eyes. “Got it.”
I stare down at her.
I wish she’d smile. I don’t expect it, given what’s happened to her, but I have a feeling she doesn’t smile a lot regardless.
She is pretty, though. I’d give her parents that much. Flawless skin that looks almost porcelain. High cheek bones, the hollows rosy. Eyebrows a little darker than her hair, framing long lashes and Amelia’s stormy gray eyes, more piercing that her mother’s because she has the same dark ring around the iris that her father had.
She’s more her mother, though. The slender neck, the curve of the waist, the spine and shoulders that made her seem statuesque sometimes. On Amelia, it looked cold. On Tiernan, it… makes you wonder how she’d bend and move in someone’s arms.
Someone’s.
My body warms, and I hold her gaze for a moment. Amelia and Hannes. Amusement tugs at the corners of my mouth, but I don’t let it show.
I don’t need her to stay. It’s no skin off my nose if she leaves.
But I can forbid her from leaving if I want to.
If for no other reason than to burn off my exceeding supply of frustration with her father. To make her work off his debt to me.
To fuck up her life just a little bit.
To make her…
She wets her pink lips, and my breath catches for a moment.