"What?!" The word came out too loud in the quiet kitchen.
"No." He cleared his throat, a rough sound. He looked back at me, his gaze finally steadying. "Yogurt."
"Ohhh, okay. Yogurt." I nodded slowly, turning to the colossal stainless steel refrigerator. "I'll start now. Can you show me your kitchen, Mr. Eyebrows?"
"Henry." He corrected me gently, but there was no real irritation. "My name is Henry." He paused, as if deciding something. "Can I help?"
"Yes, of course. You can help." I tilted my head, looking at him. The morning light from the window caught the flecks of grey in his dark hair. "I hope your rude self can also handle knives."
A faint flush touched his high cheekbones. He looked down, actually seeming chastised. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that day. Sorry."
The apology was so blunt, so unexpected, it disarmed me completely. Before I could respond, he stepped aside and gestured toward the hall leading deeper into the house. "Ehmmm… ladies first."
