“Ava,” Elle sighed.
I had a strong feeling that might be a common response to her sister. Ava seemed to be a force of nature.
“Where are you two headed for dinner?” Ava asked.
“My place,” I replied.
Ava leaned to the side and high-fived Gabby.
I choked back a laugh as Elle appeared to be mortified. “Do you actually want us to go over any book list, or was that all a ruse?”
“Hell no, we’re putting you to work.” Gabby slid a document across the table. “That’s a copy, so feel free to make notes on it and bring it to work tomorrow. We can finalize the list then. And Nate…”
I looked at Gabby. Her voice was filled with laughter.
“Yes?”
“I’ll be sure to let Grace know she won that contest we’d been talking about.”
I growled.
Gabby rolled her eyes, then looked over at Elle. “Elle, you’re in luck. Nate here is an excellent cook, so don’t let him try to go the lazy route and order pizza or anything.”
Elle glanced my way. “You cook?”
I slid a hand over my stomach as it let out a growl and watched Elle’s eyes track my movements as her gaze heated up. That was it. I needed to get her out of there and away from the prying eyes of my friend and her sister.
“You bet I do. Let’s go.”
9
Welcome Home
Elle
Breathing in a deep cleansing breath, I took in Nate’s place. He lived about three blocks from the library, away from the downtown, in a small cottage. The brick walkway leading up to his house had a gentle curve. The snow had mainly melted off during the day, but there were still traces here and there in his yard. Three windows faced the street and lights shone from his front room, making the entire place glow with warmth and a feeling of welcoming.
“Did you come home earlier?” I asked as we came up the last step.
“No, why do you ask?” Nate pushed the door open and gestured for me to go ahead of him.
“The lights are on,” I murmured as we stepped into a room that immediately felt like home.
The entire space was wide open, with hardwood floors, and the walls were clad in large white planks running horizontally. There was a worn leather sofa by the front windows as well as an armchair angled to the side that made me want to curl up with a book. Bookshelves wrapped the lower half of the room, and what appeared to be barn beams on the ceiling gave some separation between the living room and the kitchen area. A large island divided the two, giving a defined cooking area behind it with windows into the backyard.
I scanned the room, noticing there were books strewn in several spots, as if one could sit down and grab whatever was nearest, finding something to read.
“Timers.”
“Hmm?” I looked back to Nate, feeling like I was being pulled out of a dream. What the hell was wrong with me?
“The lights are on timers.” He placed his hand on my lower back, gently steering me into the room so he could close the door. “That was the hardest part of living on my own.” He dropped his coat and bag on a bench, then kicked off his shoes. “Beer?” he asked, moving toward the kitchen.
“Please.” I dropped my stuff as well before heading toward the island. “And what does that mean, the hardest part of living on your own?”
With his head inside the fridge, Nate continued. “It’s nothing, just a memory of home.” Pulling two cans out, he held one up. “IPA work for you?”
I noted the label from the brewery in town. Nodding, I wondered if he was going to elaborate. “Continue.” I grabbed the beer and watched him, in a bit of awe that I was standing in Nate’s kitchen. This had been a day of surprises—both good and bad.
