My heart melts into a puddle of mush.
I’m about to tell him it’s not necessary, but I stop myself.
He wants to.
He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t.
And another thought, even brighter and more hopeful than the rest.
Maybe I’m not the only one who feels something more.
CHAPTER 8
ALEC
It’s not a date.
It’s just two friends having dinner together.
I share meals with my friends all the time. Lunch with Ronan when he’s working in Stowe, or an early breakfast with Knox at Breakfast Bliss before we both head off to our day jobs. We have team dinners nearly every week unless we’re busy with an extended pro-bono case.
Having dinner with Hazel is no different.
Like tonight, for example. We’ll eat club sandwiches and duck fat fries from The Laughing Goat, which is a perfectly ordinary meal. We’ll chat about work and the weather and whatever else comes to mind, which is exactly the same as I’d do with myteammates. And then we’ll play someTenebris Veil; a decidedly un-romantic activity.
Clearly,nota date.
Except.
Do I have dinner with my friends every night?
Do I spend more time than I’d like to admit trying to come up with the perfect meal to bring, combing through past conversations with Hazel as I try to recall all her favorite foods?
My gaze slides over to the gift bag resting on the passenger seat, emblazoned with the words,Bookish Bliss, in elegant script. Beside it sit two paper bags stuffed with food—not just the club sandwiches and fries, but two kinds of brownies and a large carton of mac and cheese for Hazel to eat for lunch tomorrow.
Do I bring my friends gifts when I come over for dinner? Do I bring extra food so they don’t have to worry about cooking the next day?
Sometimes I bring a six-pack. Does that count?
I shake my head at myself.
It’s not remotely the same, and I know it.
As I bump along the narrow road that winds through the GMG property, I spot Winter and Enzo up ahead, walking their two rescue dogs, Comet and Rusty. Enzo’s flashlight bounces ahead of them, catching glimmers of stone and bits of leaves strewn across the road. He points the beam down as I approach and waits for me to pull to a stop beside them.
I lower my window and say, “Hey, guys. How’s it going?”
Winter smiles at me. “Good. Just enjoying a quick walk before dinner. How are you?”
Enzo peers into the truck, his gaze lighting on the assortment of bags beside me. He smirks. “Hey, Alec. Where areyouoff to?”
Wiseass. He knows exactly where I’m going. “Dinner at Hazel’s,” I reply.
“Hmm.” He eyes the bags again. “That seems like a lot for only two meals. And since when did the bookstore start selling food?”
“Enzo.” Winter’s voice turns gently scolding. “It’s none of our business what Alec brings for dinner.” Her lips twitch. “Orif he decides to bring Hazel a gift.”
“A gift, eh?” Enzo’s smirk broadens to a shit-eating grin.
