Oliver smiles, and my heart flutters in my chest. “That’s nice.”
“Yours?”
“Small and not close, besides my parents. Everyone else lives out of state.”
“Where?” I ask.
“Georgia.”
Now the darlin’ makes complete sense. “Half of my family lives in Florida, but they moved away before I was born.”
“I was around seven when we moved here. My stepdad thought he’d make more money in the big city than the sticks.”
“And did he?”
“Yep, and I’m thankful he made that decision every day of my life. I’m not a country boy.”
“You look like one,” I blurt out, unable to stop myself and my big mouth.
He chuckles. “I like hiking and being outdoors, but I wasn’t made to live in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do other than go to church or sit at the local bar. No offense.”
“None taken,” I say, smiling. “I love the city too. I wasn’t made for the outhouse life.”
Oliver chuckles loudly, and the sound of it makes my insides warm. He’s handsome all the time, but there’s something extra special about himwhen he’s laughing. “They have indoor plumbing, Lou.”
“Hiking is my limit.”
“Camping?” he asks.
I tilt my head, trying to think about the last time I went camping, and I draw a blank. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been. I don’t know if I’d survive.”
“You got to do it right, and then it’s the best thing in the world. Just you and nature.”
Now, it’s my turn to stare at someone like they have an extra head. “That doesn’t sound delightful.”
“It is if you do it like I do.”
I can almost guarantee if I did anything like he did, I would die from exhaustion and lack of strength. But that doesn’t mean my interest isn’t piqued. “And how do you do it?”
“A good tent, an air mattress, a roaring fire, some whiskey, and a sky full of stars.”
The only time I get a good look at the night sky is when I visit my family in Florida. The Chicago skyline is too bright to see much of anything except the brightest stars.
“I’m going in a couple weeks to see the meteor shower.”
“I’ve never seen one of those. I’ve heard they’re amazing.”
“You should come,” he says, so casually I don’t think he means it.
“Someday.”
“This time.”
“You’re serious?” I ask, leaning forward. “You’re asking me to go?”
“Why wouldn’t I want you to? I’d love to add pretty girl to the list of how I camp.”
My heart does that weird flutter thing inside my chest again. “Can we do s’mores?” I raise an eyebrow, figuring that will be the deal-breaker. I’m giving him a way out if he isn’t serious.
