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Jeremiah stood on her doorstep, wearing a white golf shirt with a Durango Brewing Company logo and bright-colored trail running shoes. It was the first time Liv had seen him looking like he’d put effort into his appearance—shirt collar crisp, facial hair trimmed, messy hair almost tamed—and she liked what she saw.
But he didn’t seem to share the sentiment, because his face fell.
“Oh no,” he said. “You can’t wear that tonight.”
“Why not?” Her face warmed with embarrassment.
“Because we’re going hiking.”
“You said we were having dinner.”
He leaned against the doorframe, and his eyes started laughing. “We’re having dinner on our hike. You should change.”
“I don’t have hiking boots.”
“You’ve lived in Durango for a full two weeks and you don’t have hiking boots yet?” Then he grinned. “Wear your running shoes. It’s not a long way.”
He waited inside while she went to the bedroom and exchanged her skirt for shorts, sandals for running shoes. When she returned, he was wandering around, investigating her living room.
Liv paused, seeing her apartment through his eyes. Beige walls, brown sofa, small kitchen with two generic wooden stools. The only personal items were in her bedroom—a quilt Gran had made when Liv left for college and a photograph of her, Kristina, and Oliver on the nightstand. Just how she liked it: easy to move, easy to leave. She thought back to Molly’s house, chock-full of color and warmth, like Molly herself, and wondered if her bland apartment said something about her own personality. A depressing thought.
“Nice place you got here,” Jeremiah said, leaning in to examine the mass-produced art print hanging over the sofa.
“It’s provided by the temp company I work for,” Liv explained. “They all look something like this.”
“It’s like living in a Holiday Inn.”
She shrugged. She had never cared before. “Am I dressed better now, sir?” She held out her hands and curtsied, feeling instantly foolish.
But Jeremiah grinned and nodded, hands on his hips as he appraised her. Her cheeks warmed at the way he was watching her—that intent stare she’d first noticed at the coffee shop. Like he was memorizing her. “You look great.”
“Let’s go, then.”
Ninety minutes later, they were on top of Smelter Mountain near the south end of the valley, overlooking Durango as the sun went down. The Animas River meandered through town like a lazy snake, bracketed by a grid of streetlights amidst the buildings and trees.
The hike had only taken an hour, and aside from a few spots where they scrambled up loose rock, it hadn’t been difficult. Liv had never been on a date like this, one where she ended up sweaty and out of breath—well, not at the beginning of the date. She liked it.
Jeremiah carried a backpack the entire way, and once they reached the top and caught their breath, he unpacked. She expected something like smashed peanut butter sandwiches and potato chips, but Jeremiah surprised her. First, he unfurled a blanket, laying it on the dusty ground. Then he opened the backpack to reveal compartments for real plates and silverware, cloth napkins and wine glasses, and a demi bottle of red wine. Even a little pocket for the corkscrew.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a wine aficionado,” Liv said. “Isn’t this a beer town?” She had counted at least five or six brewing companies so far.
“I’m not, and it is.” He grinned. “But I’m trying to impress you.”
She found herself grinning back. “Don’t tell anyone, but it’s working.”
Jeremiah laid out a picnic feast for them, cheese and crackers, tiny gourmet sandwiches, and fruit kabobs. They sat next to each other on the blanket and ate, chatting and watching the sunset. It was cooler up here, a welcome break from the summer heat. The snow-capped peaks of the San Juan Mountains turned pink and purple, and the lights in the valley winked on, mirrored by the stars above.
“Tell me about you,” Jeremiah said after a while. “What’s your story?”
From the way he looked at her face, he seemed like he really wanted to know. And she wanted to tell him.
“Nothing too interesting. I grew up bouncing between different relatives’ houses. I went to University of Pittsburgh for undergrad and grad school, and you know about my temp positions.”
He nodded. “Why’d you bounce between different relatives’ homes?”
“My mom struggled with the responsibility of raising kids.” To put it mildly. But then, her mother had been raising three children at the age of twenty-six, younger than Liv was now.
“Where is she now?”
