Page 100 of When He Dares
“A town like Hope Peak,” I said, taking a deep breath. “It’d probably be small, but I figured the storefronts aren’t as expensive in a place like this, and the competition’s much lower. I don’t have to worry about the big chains, at least.”
Sawyer watched while I scooped a generous helping of lasagna onto my plate and reached for his. It seemed to take him a second to realize why I had my hand out like that.
Finally, he grabbed his plate and held it out to me. I gave him an even bigger helping of lasagna than I’d taken.
“The salad,” I gasped, realizing I’d forgotten to put any utensils in the bowl.
I turned and rushed back to the utensil drawer, returning to set them in the bowl before pulling back my chair and sitting down. Only then did it hit me how exhausted I was. Lasagna was a time-intensive process, and I’d been on my feet for the better part of three hours.
He hesitated a moment before pulling his chair back and sitting. “Thank you for doing all of this.”
“Thank you for getting my oven up and working.”
He looked over my shoulder toward the kitchen. “I forgot to ask. I guess everything’s running okay?”
I nodded. “Couldn’t be better. I don’t know what you did, but you’re a life saver.”
“More like a cookie saver.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. “So, what about you? I’ve been so rude, talking about myself all day.”
All day might be an exaggeration. He’d been here all of a half hour, after all. But he’d know what I meant.
“This is it,” he said.
He watched as I scooped some salad into the bowl I’d set next to my plate. Then I grabbed the only salad dressing I had, vinaigrette, and sprinkled it over the top.
“I take care of my yard and the cabin.” He shrugged. “I bought it when I moved here after my discharge.”
Discharge. I keyed in on that word.
“You’re a vet,” I said. “You mentioned that earlier.”
“Eight years Army. Got shot in the hip. Friendly fire, but it was enough to get me an honorable discharge. I live a pretty simple life, and I have enough socked away to take care of my expenses, but I might eventually do something. Maybe I’ll work as a handyman, take some odd jobs around town just for something to do.”
“Fixing ovens for people?” I asked.
“Exactly. Think you could vouch for me?”
Our eyes met then, and I felt something. I told myself I was imagining things. I probably annoyed him more than anything. But he didn’t look away immediately.
Eventually, though, he pulled his gaze away and lowered it to his plate. He picked up his fork and dug into the lasagna, slicing off a bite so big I was sure there was no way he could fit it in his mouth.
But he did exactly that. He shoved it in and closed his eyes. I held my breath, fearful for a long second that he hated it. Or maybe he’d taken a bite too soon, and it wasn’t cool enough. Oh God, did he burn his tongue? I’d be mortified if I injured my hunky neighbor with my cooking.
As I waited for him to chew and swallow, I uncapped my beer and took a big swig. Just that one swallow immediately relaxed me. So I took another one. This was about as much alcohol as I could handle. I was a lightweight when it came to drinking, but it did calm my nerves a little.
Sawyer opened his eyes and picked up the conversation where we’d left off. “Anyway, that wasn’t my goal. I didn’t count on it being so…”
“Boring?” I asked.
He thought about that a long moment and shook his head. “Actually, I’m comfortable with the slower pace. I grew up in the suburbs of D.C. Suburban life was not really my thing.”
“Mine either.”
I was surprised at my own words. I’d never really said them out loud before. The dream was to live somewhere like this. Picturesque, beautiful, and full of kind people. Or even grumpy ones who would come over and fix your oven when you needed it.
“I enjoyed my teen years in the suburbs, though,” I said. “Well, as much as anyone can.”
