While Peggy had backed off before, too stunned by Erskine's death and how withdrawn Steve had become as a result, she didn't intend to let it happen again. They were better together, and maybe it was dreadfully foolish. Maybe putting herself on Steve's arm was painting a target squarely on her forehead, because there were patterns that always pointed at taking the emotional shot first. Make a point. Make a statement.
She didn't actually care. That might be selfish, but Peggy wanted this for herself. She wanted to know she'd made a choice that wasn't based on prudence and wisdom. She wanted to stand next to Steve instead of standing at a safe distance, carefully avoiding eye contact.
She wanted to hear him laugh like that, even if it was at the expense of her utter lack of skill in a kitchen. It made her laugh in turn, low and rueful. "Just for that, I might inflict cookies on you. See if I don't." Amusement softened what wasn't really a threat, and she bobbed her head even if he couldn't see it. "I'm visiting my father right now, but give me a couple of days and I'll be out that way. All right?"