Danny appears in the barn doorway, silhouetted against the waning light. “Boss? Sorry to interrupt, but the sun’s going down in an hour, and I’m deflecting calls like crazy. We should head back—unless you want to spend the night.”
I look at Mia. She looks at me.
“What do you think?” I ask.
She smiles—a lopsided smile that spears my heart—and says, “I think we should stay.”
I nod at Danny. “You mind heading into town? If Pat’s Blues and Burgers is still there, you could pick up patty melts for us all.”
“I’ll do my best,” he says, touching his fingers to his forehead in salute.
“Patty melts?” Mia asks.
“Hope you brought your lactose pills.”
CHAPTER 26
VANGUARD
Danny returnswith the food just as the light turns from gold to amber.
“Pat’s is still there,” he says, standing at the bottom of the hayloft ladder with a grease-stained paper bag in one hand. “Same owner, same recipe. Lady remembered your dad, actually. Said to tell you she’s sorry for your loss.”
The words make me flinch internally, but they don’t sting the way they might have this morning. Something’s shifted. Lightened.
“Thanks, Danny.”
I jump down effortlessly and grab the bag from him before flying back to the loft. Feels like cheating sometimes.
He shakes his head and mumbles, “Show off. Anyway, I’ll be in the car if you need me.”
“You’re not eating with us?” Mia asks.
“Got my own.” He pats his jacket pocket. “Besides, three’s a crowd.” He winks at her, looking pleased with himself, and disappears out of the barn before I can throw something at him.
“I like him,” Mia says, already reaching for the bag.
“Everyone likes Danny. It’s annoying.”
The patty melts are exactly how I remember, made of thick beef patties smothered in caramelized onions and melted cheese, pressed between slices of rye bread that’s been griddled until it cracks when you bite into it. Mia moans on her first mouthful, and the sound goes straight to my cock.
Down, boy. Let the woman eat.
“Oh my God,” she mumbles around a mouthful. “It was worth swallowing that pill dry, because this cheese is obscene.”
“Told you.”
“You did not tell me. You saidpatty melts. You didn’t saylife-changing religious experience. God, what is it with you and having all the best food? So much dairy, it’s like you’re trying to kill me.”
I laugh at that and watch her eat. I can’t help it. The way her lips wrap around the sandwich, the grease glistening on her fingers, the little sounds of pleasure she makes with each bite. She devours food like she seems to devour life, and I’m finding it intoxicating, inspiring even.
And now, with the dying sun slipping through cracks in the barn and catching her hair, turning strands of it gold, I’m struck by howrightshe looks here. In my barn. In my childhood. In the one place I never thought I’d bring anyone, let alone return myself.
She catches me staring. “What? Do I have food on my face?”
“No. Nothing.” I take a bite of my own sandwich, barely tasting it. “Just thinking.”
“About cheese?”
