Ninja At First Sight (Knitting in the City, #4.75)

by Penny Reid

“I don’t know what a xenophobic hermit requires in the morning, so I made coffee.” His voice was hushed. “Coffee works,” I whispered and took a sip of the black liquid, found it magnificently strong, “as long as it was made with the tears of women and children.”

“First of all, you’re assuming women—or most women—intend to steal men from other women. You paint a very unflattering picture of women—sneaky, underhanded, selfish—and I don’t think that’s the case. I don’t think most women behave that way or have those thoughts. Most women are not conniving.”

Greg is a person, not a spoon, or a saucepan, or a tea cup. He can’t be stolen. Men aren’t stolen. They’re responsible for their own actions and decisions—staying with a woman is a decision. Straying or leaving is a decision. You make it sound like men are mindless, powerless to temptation.” She snorted. “In my experience, they are.” “Then you’ve known only weak men. And weak men deserve conniving women.”

You should always be taking notes when we’re together. I’m a consistent source of how to do everything right.”

“I guess because soups are the food equivalent of a warm hug.”

“I think, after facing death, seeing it, touching it, it’s difficult to turn your brain off to the farcicalities of fantasy.”

“Fe, in a relationship, money is one of many burdens. Are you proposing that people split all burdens, right down the middle?” “Yes,” I said, and thought about the feasibility of this approach as he shut my door and came around to his side. When he was settled in his seat, I clarified. “Well, insomuch as is feasible. I mean, some burdens aren’t quantifiable. So I suppose, people should do their best to split things fifty-fifty.” “And, hypothetically, if we were to have children, would we have shifts? You have them for fifty percent of the day, I have them for fifty percent of the day? I worry about fifty percent of the issues? I help them with fifty percent of their homework? I do fifty percent of the grocery shopping?” I conceded his point. “Like I said, some burdens aren’t quantifiable, but money is.” “But—don’t you see? Money isn’t. Not really. Because a relationship is made up of many burdens, and the two people within the relationship have different strengths and weaknesses, abilities and talents.” “And your talent is having more money than I do?” I asked wryly. He nodded once. “For now. But later, your talent might be having more money than I do. And therein lies the beauty of partnering off with another human.” “The beauty of human relationships is sharing burdens?” “More or less. But burdens don’t grow lighter if both people are contributing equally. Life isn’t a fifty-fifty split, that’s just being lazy. Burdens are weightless, worlds change, and love endures when...

“Because if it’s possible to have a partner who gives all of themselves without reservation, who looks forward to working and sacrificing for me just as I look forward to doing the same for her, who can’t help but love ferociously, brutally, and unconditionally—and even perhaps without reason or sound judgment—that’s what I want. Because that’s how I plan to love in return.”