Not terribly long ago she might have snapped at his carelessness and retreated. Even further back and she might also have attempted to bite the hand that now rubbed just below her knee instead of internally thrilling at the touch. Yet here they sat. And she neither recoiled nor aggressed.
She simply watched his face as he spoke, raptly attentive, and when he apologized she hesitated not for an instant before nodding her understanding and acceptance. She was not a damsel, and he never treated her like one. He did not need to protect her, especially if her recent body count was any indication. Yet she had seen the way his gaze lingered on her side and knew the guilt he bore over what she was.
For that she would always forgive him.
And then it was over. She was glad for that. She puckered her lips to one side, the sure-fire signal that she was witholding a smile, and her own onyx eyes danced with amusement at the transition. Sledgehammer.
She tilted her head back to down the last of the coffee and used her free hand to toss the quilt over the back of the couch. "That sounds a lot like a dare." Her legs were bared by a pair of shorts, and she was wearing one of his undershirts; she pulled her feet out from under him and finally set them on the ground, pushing off the couch to arch her back and let her arms stretch high and then wide to the side. "Breakfast of champions. You're on. I hear they taste like popcorn. Besides, I feel like after Rocky Mountain Oysters, crickets will be a cake walk." And then she did grin at him in her crooked way, though the look she gave was pointed.
She had not been very amused when he'd told her what the Colorado specially really was. Especially not since she'd been mid-chew.
"Thanks for the coffee. I'm gonna wash up and get changed. You wanna wait up, or should I meet you by the gate in a few?"