Anna tossed a handful of popcorn and laughed when Kristoff failed to catch a single kernel in his mouth. "I thought you said you were good at this," she teased.

"I am good at this. You just have terrible aim," he retorted.

She gasped and placed a hand on her heart, her eyes mocking as she look at him. "I'm insulted, Mr. Bjorgman. I have excellent aim."

"Could have fooled me."

She punched him lightly in the shoulder, but she couldn't hide the laughter in her eyes. Things between them had been good since they had fallen into bed together the previous morning. It wasn't just the sex either, though that was mind-blowingly amazing! It was Kristoff himself that made her smile even when she had no real reason to. He listened to her, really listened. He teased her and made her laugh. He was not just a lover, but a friend. Every moment was an exciting adventure when she was with him. She wouldn't tell him this, but she was kind of glad that his friend Sven had screwed up. She didn't even want to imagine the kind of moping she would have indulged herself in if she had been at the cottage alone.

"My turn to ask a question," Kristoff said, his words cutting through her thoughts as he squeezed her ankles that were up in his lap.

They had been spending the morning getting to know each other by taking turns asking questions. Anna had discovered that Kristoff had been adopted by a large family when he was eight years old and Sven had been his best friend since even before that. She knew that he liked strawberry ice cream better than chocolate (the heathen!), and had never enjoyed Halloween when he was growing up because he wasn't interested in dressing up "like an idiot". She had also learned that no matter what he said, he was terrible at catching popcorn in his mouth.

In return, he know knew that she and Elsa had been alone for the past five years and had grown very close because of it. He learned that she would eat just about anything if chocolate was part of the recipe and that she had been painting since her parent's car accident and needed an outlet for her emotions. Things that she hadn't been willing to tell Hans came out with the least bit of effort when Kristoff asked. She felt she could tell him anything.

"You can ask whatever you want, but I need more popcorn first," she agreed and looked down at her empty bowl.

"You wouldn't need more popcorn if you hadn't been throwing it at me," he reminded her, but took the bowl from her and led the way back into the kitchen from the living room.

Anna peeled herself from the couch and followed him into the kitchen, enjoying the way his butt looked in his jeans. He had turned her into a pervert… and she couldn't care less. Plus, she liked his butt. It was nice and firm and filled out his jeans in all the best ways. She had to forcibly stop herself from reaching out and squeezing it. Something told her that he probably wouldn't appreciate that too much.

"Can we make some kettle korn this time?" she asked him, settling herself on the island stool to watch him work. After her disastrous attempt at helping him cook the night before, she had relinquished the kitchen to his much more capable hands.

"I was thinking about homemade carmel corn," he suggested, grabbing a pot from the rack above the sink and setting it on the stove. "That way you can't throw it anymore or you'll have to pay Sven to get his couch and floor cleaned."

Anna stuck out her tongue at him. "It wouldn't have been a problem if you'd actually caught some of the popcorn in your mouth."

"Do you ever let things go?" he asked her, turning away from the stove and narrowing his eyes at her.

"Is that your question?" she asked playfully, setting her chin in her hands and her elbows on the island.

He rolled his eyes and turned back to the stove. "No. I was going to ask what your favorite book is."

"Books, really?" Her eyes widened in surprise yet again. It seemed that he was always surprising her. "I never imagined you to be a reader."

"You didn't imagine that I was a tease either, I guess you aren't a very good judge of character," he said mockingly as he stirred the caramel sauce for the popcorn.

She knew he hadn't meant it as a jab, but she felt the comment like a knife in the heart. He couldn't possibly have known how much she regretted her last relationship and the man that she had thought she loved. He couldn't know that she really was a terrible judge of character. It had just been a silly comment, but it hurt.

"Yeah, that's me," she said with a lightheartedness she didn't feel. "Bad judge of character."

Either he didn't hear her or he didn't sense the seriousness of what she had said, because he turned back to her with a smile and a big bowl of freshly made carmel popcorn. "As long as you aren't a bad judge of books," he teased. "I'm still waiting to hear what you like to read."

She reached over and snatched a gooey piece of popcorn and stuck it in her mouth. "I'm a sucker for romance novels," she admitted.

He rolled his eyes. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

She chuckled and reached for more popcorn. If Kristoff didn't care if she was a bad judge of character, why did she? She was here in this cottage with a gorgeous man who made her moan, but more than that, he made her laugh. Why dwell on a manipulative jerk?

Why indeed.