They were outside on his driveway for all his neighbors to see. This wasn’t the best place for a romantic reunion. He lifted his head, her eyes fluttering open.
“You’re beautiful.”
Her lips tipped up in a goofy grin. “You’re not that bad looking yourself.”
“Let’s get you inside. I’ll get your bags.”
"The stuff in the trunk can stay until later. I just want to get my rucksack from the back seat, and the other two bags, so they aren't tempting to random people who walk past."
“Sure. I’ll get your rucksack, though this is North Carolina, not California.”
She nodded. “Fewer people.”
Link smiled as he opened the back door and grabbed the rucksack. “Oof, it’s heavy.”
Ansley’s laughter made him feel good. He liked how they were together. He hadn’t been imagining it when he’d rescued her.
“I packed heavy.”
"The potatoes are almost done. Also, the burgers will be done soon."
“Good. I’m hungry.”
They brought in the rest of her stuff that wasn’t in the trunk, and he gave her a brief tour of the house.
“The guest room is perfect. Thank you for letting me stay here. I’m thrilled to be here.”
“I’m glad you came.”
The oven timer rang, and she lifted her eyebrows. “The food?”
He chuckled. “Yes. The food. There is beer in the refrigerator. Or if you want something different, I have other stuff, too.”
“Beer would be great after some water. I should drink some water just to rehydrate.”
“That would be smart.”
“Sometimes I do smart stuff.”
She made him laugh. He liked that she wasn't so serious that they couldn't have fun. The potatoes were perfect, and the burgers were in the warmer. He pulled the condiments out of the refrigerator as he grabbed her a drink.
“I cut tomatoes and have some lettuce and pickles.”
“Thank you. This is great.”
They fixed their burgers and potatoes before they sat at the kitchen table. Ansley took a sip of her beer, sighing. He'd gone on dates where this part was awkward, but being with Ansley felt natural, like they were supposed to be together.
Ansley tooka bite of the burger and moaned. “This is great.”
“Thank you. I enjoy cooking. I didn’t use to, but now I get into the details.”
“I’m a passable cook. Your burgers are superior to mine.”
“It took me years to get them this delicious.”
They ate more without speaking. It was a comfortable silence, not stilted at all. Then he picked up the conversation again.
“One thing I hated growing up was meatloaf, but I swear I’ve perfected a recipe that is amazing. I think I hated it because my mom’s meatloaf was dry and had little taste.”
