Mildred slunk off the bed and came to wrap herself around Zoe’s ankles.
“Not now, kitten,” Zoe told her. “I have to go out.”
When had her last evening out been? And the grocery store didn’t count. And neither did the library. Her thoughts skittered over the past month. There had been a bonfire at the beach Courtney had pulled her to in August—or had that been July?
She couldn’t blame herself. A social life and a bakery mixed about as well as lemon juice and olive oil. Sure, they tasted all right together, but they kept to themselves.
And so did she.
“I’ll just go in, pick out the paintings to hang in the bakery, and come out. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
Mildred cocked her head, lifted a paw, and licked it.
“I can do this.”
But the enormity of what she was doing stopped her on the stairs, and she bolted back into her attic apartment. The tangy scent of the tomato bisque soup she’d made that morning assaulted her. On an impulse, she grabbed the crockpot and a loaf of rosemary bread off the counter. Now armed, she headed back out the door.
Ethan’s gaze softened when he saw her. “Hey there,” he said. “What’s this?”
“Dinner. Have you already eaten?”
“No. This smells amazing.”
Her knees weakened. She was a sucker for compliments when it came to her food.
“Tomato soup?” Ethan guessed. “One of my favorites.” He took the crockpot from her and led her into the kitchen.
“Me too.”
“And homemade bread, of course.”
She nodded as her gaze swept the large, airy room. Except for Hannah’s artwork posted on the refrigerator, it looked almost exactly as it had on the day he’d moved in. If she closed her eyes, she could still see her mom and grandmother bustling between the stove and sink, moving like two pieces in a well-oiled machine. She swallowed hard, fighting a wave of nostalgia.
Her grandmother hadn’t wanted to move out, but when her knees made climbing the front porch nearly impossible, it was either the condo—that her mom was super excited about—or build a ramp up the front steps for Grandma’s walker. Mom and her condo won. Ironically, it was Grandma who had made a bevy of new friends in the 55 and older community while Mom sneered at all her silver-fox wanna-be neighbors.
“You’re going to share this with me, right?” Ethan’s voice shook her out of her thoughts.
She shrugged. “Up to you.” Did he think it strange she’d invited herself to dinner? But he didn’t have to see it that way. She didn’t have to stay for dinner. She could let him think she’d just brought the food as a gift. “I didn’t... I don’t...There’s really just enough for two.”
“Huh.” He glanced at the brimming crockpot and the loaf of bread in her arms. “I’m not sure I believe that. But even if I did, there are only two of us.”
Zoe’s heart accelerated. “Where’s Hannah?”
He grinned as if he knew what he was doing to her. “At a friend’s house.” After setting the pot on the table, he went to the cupboard to pull out bowls. He kept his dishes in the same cupboard her grandmother had.
Oh dear. What had she done? Sitting alone and eating with just him seemed much too intimate. What had made her bring the soup and bread? Soup was tricky. It spilled so easily. And tomatoes stained. If she had been asked what food to bring to a first date, she would have suggested fish. It flaked easily and didn’t stain if it happened to fall off your fork. Better yet, don’t include food on a first date. Save the food for later dates.
But this wasn’t a date. It was just two neighbors sharing a meal. Maybe she’d dribble some tomato soup just to show how casual this situation was for her.
No, she wouldn’t.
He asked, “Do you know Mrs. Lickel?”
“Yes. Quite well, actually.”
“What’s she like?”
Zoe’s grandmother was a spitfire with a snarky wit, but Zoe didn’t need to tell Ethan that. “She’s lovely.”
