What excuse can I come up with? He knows my schedule—it’s connected tohisschedule.
“Amy from accounting told me about a spot. Come on.”
The spot in question is a grill in the town center. It’s nothing special, but at this point, it comforts me—I don’t want anything special from Theo. The signals keep getting mixed up, and an ordinary lunch is exactly what I need.
I would have been happy to stay home and eat leftover soup.
There’s no indoor dining. The grill is a tiny hut, and we stand at the front of it, scanning the paper menus. They’re in Finnish, of course, but the pictures are helpful. It quickly becomes clear the restaurant is meant to appeal to Americans—or to Finnish people who enjoy American food.
“I can’t believe there’s a cheeseburger on the menu,” I whisper. “Isn’t that so… American?”
“The inspiration for hamburgers comes from Germany.” He lifts a brow. “Just listen to the name, Evie.Hamburg. I can’t believe I’m teaching you about food.”
“You aren’t teaching me anything.” I suppress a smile. “Everyone knows that.”
He leans over, his eyes twinkling as he nudges his shoulder against mine. “Either way, I wouldn’t recommend ordering the hamburger. The kebab is probably better, right?”
I force myself to look back down at the menu and clear my throat. “I don’t know. The fries and meatball option looks interesting.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Do you think Amy steered us wrong? Be honest.”
I lift a shoulder, smiling hesitantly. “We won’t know until we try.”
At least there’s nothing romantic about it. We sit at the little wooden tables in the frigid weather, bundled under several layers of jackets and sweaters. The french fry and meatball option is precisely what one would think. It’s a plate of… well, french fries and meatballs.
“It really is an interesting combination,” I mutter, spearing a bit of both onto my fork.
I tilt my head to the side as I chew, considering the flavors. There isn’t much going on aside from the saltiness of the fry, and there may be a hint of rosemary in the meatballs. Maybe a little sweetness. It’s just… fine.
“Well?” Theo asks.
After a moment of consideration, I grin. “It’s not bad. I’ve had worse.” I’ve had better, too, but the last thing I want is to complain and ruin the mood. “Let’s bring the combination to America.”
Theo has a plate of vegetables and kebabs, which seems more appropriate, but he eyes my lunch like a hawk.
“Let me see…” He leans, but stops halfway, his eyes lingering on mine.
Theo is too comfortable around me, and it’s too late to take it back. He remains frozen in mid-air. I swallow, hoping the tension will break.
“On second thought…” He sits back and eats a bite of his chicken kebab instead. “I’m not in the mood for meatballs.”
I click my tongue. “Then you’re tasteless. I should have known. The meatballs are the best part, hands down.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” He lifts a cup of water.
I do the same without thinking about it, desperate to keep my hands busy. I can’t quite meet his eye.
Will this be how the rest of the trip is? Now that I know how his lips taste and feel, I won’t be able to get my mind off him… and I won’t be able to stop thinking about it, stop wanting it.
“How did it go in the woods today?” I ask weakly, trying to focus on work. He wants me to be professional, and I swear I can do it. Why is this so hard?
I don’t join him in the woods every day. I’ve taken videos of him in the woods a few times, but there’s more for me to do around the cabin. Staying inside gives me more time to bake, too.
Another boss wouldn’t like me spending my working hours focusing on whether or not my dough is rising, but Theo has been supportive. He gets something from it, too. Who doesn’t like fresh bread?
“It went great,” he says. “Planted a little, the forester gave a great lecture, and I got to help cut a tree down.”
“You chopped those big trees?” My eyes widen. “That seems dangerous.”
