“It wasn’t. Trust me.” He pulled the foil back on the plate to take a peek, a hum coming from his throat as he surveyed the chicken, potatoes, and gravy I made. “Man, that smells good.”
I twisted my lips to curb the huge smile forming. “Do you want me to go put it in your fridge?”
“Absolutely not. I’m eating it right now.”
“I thought you might say that.” I fished in my back pocket for the fork and napkin I’d stored. Offering him the utensil, I said, “Don’t let me stop you. I’ll get out of your way and?—”
“Are the girls asleep?”
“They have been for a while now.”
“Stay then.”
“Oh! Well, I probably should get back.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “I’m sure you’re tired.”
“I…” My words trailed off as I noted the disappointment dulling the sparkle in his eyes. The blend of sensations in my chest pingponged between dread and hope—always a contradiction around Jesse.
Before I’d fully formed my reasoning, I slowly said, “Actually, I can stay for a few minutes.”
He gave a small smile and nodded toward the rickety bleachers further down the fence. “Let’s sit.”
Our feet swished through the ankle-high grass as I followed him. We both sat on the bottom row, the warm metal shifting under our weight. Jesse instantly pulled the foil off his plate, lifted it, and took a deep breath through his nose. “I don’t want to know what dinners I’ve missed out on.”
“Nothing too special.”
He tossed me a doubtful glance as he forked a huge bite of potatoes and gravy. He groaned low with his mouth full. “Gracious, Hollie. That is so good.”
Dizzy with elation, my fingers found the edge of the bench, anchoring myself. I’d become so accustomed to constantly disappointing everyone that Jesse’s point-blank enjoyment filled me like a waterfall hitting a coffee mug. My skill finally being appreciated was a shot in the arm. Harlan and Cade appreciated the food too, of course, but their eager bites didn’t have power over my spirit like Jesse’s.
The arena lights behind him silhouetted his body. Finally, he broke the silence. “I wanted to talk with you, but I can’t stop eating long enough to get words out.” He shoveled another forkful as I stiffened.
He wanted to talk with me? About what?
My heart tripped in my chest as a sudden surge of anxiety tightened my throat. Maybe I should’ve gone back inside. “Uh oh. That doesn’t sound too good.”
He turned to me, a light frown on his face. “What do you mean?”
“If someone wants to talk to me, it’s usually something bad.”
“I just wanted to catch up with you.” He dipped his fork back into his mountain of potatoes. “How was your day?”
I blinked, scrambling to switch gears emotionally. “Oh! Um, it was good. Kind of basic.”
“I saw the family that checked in.”
“Yeah, they’re maxing out that cabin, sharing every bed.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think those cabins are big enough for eight people.”
I huffed a tense laugh. “Agreed.” But I remembered the fact thatmy family stayed in one of those same cabins years ago, which was how Meadowbrook came into our lives. My little sister became best friends with the grandson on the property—Tag—and the rest was history. “You know, my family of eight stayed in one of those cabins so long ago.”
“Bea’s told me. Crazy how life works, huh?”
I nodded. “Wild.”
“How did you guys even come across Meadowbrook?”
