“That’s who I should have called,” she said to the radio. Mrs. Harding would have known the exact words to say, and she had patiently listened to Alexis cry over the situation six years ago.
Too late for tonight.
She passed Pastor Harding’s house, and the surroundings became unfamiliar, the houses more spaced out. The GPS on her phone told her to make the next left. In another minute, she pulled into the driveway of a house with an address that matched Trey’s.
His house did not meet her expectations, in a good way, however. She’d pictured him owning a grander home, not a modest two-story. Compared to his father’s sprawling mansion, it was tiny, though probably boasted a touch more square footage than an average home in the area.
The landscaping was impeccable, and she wondered how much of the yard he took care of himself. These weren’t normal thoughts a woman had upon seeing a man’s house for the first time, at least she didn’t think they were. She only knew from her experience with the few other men she’d dated—not that this was a date in any way, shape, or form.
But with Trey, considering their history, it’s what occupied her mind. Would they ever be able to move past their differences in social status? She hated that’s what she focused on. Didn’t she deserve some credit for recognizing she had an issue?
Besides, if Trey had never made it an issue back then, it would never be an issue now.
“Pull it together, Alexis,” she said, giving herself a pep talk.
The porch light flickered on, followed by Trey opening the door a second later. So far, she’d only seen him in dress clothes, but he’d toned down to business casual this evening and wore a pair of khakis and a button-down navy shirt. He smiled when his gaze landed on her car.
His friendly appearance soothed her nerves. This was Trey, just another guy she knew from way back. She slipped her purse over her shoulders and stepped out.
Trey met her halfway. “Did you find the house okay?”
“Yes, my pastor lives down the way, so I knew the area.”
“Good. Every now and then, the GPS acts up with directions and leads people in the wrong direction. I should have warned you but forgot about it until now.” He took a step toward the house, indicating for her to follow. “Who is your pastor?”
“Luke Harding.”
“I’ve met him several times. He’s a good man, and his wife is a sweetheart. She brought me a plate of chocolate chip cookies when I moved in.” He opened the door and waited for her to enter.
“That sounds like Marissa.” She walked into his home, observing what she could without being obvious.
The décor was tastefully done in a minimalist way. He could easily entertain guests without being accused of having a bachelor pad, but there lacked a feminine touch, which made sense. Why would there be if he lived alone?
“Truffles is in the living room. She’s starting to move around, and I have to keep her contained until her leg is healed.”
She walked beside him through a short hallway, then made a right turn. Spotting Truffles enclosure, a brightly paneled play yard meant for toddlers, filled a large corner of the room. “Nice set up.”
A smile stretched over his mouth. “I needed a solution quick, and a co-worker had one his wife was giving away. It will work for now, until she attempts jumping again.”
Truffles perked when she saw her. Alexis liked to believe the dog knew who had picked her up, even if she’d been out of it the whole time. Crossing the room, she spoke to Truffles. “How are you, pretty girl? You’re looking much better than the last time I saw you.”
“I think she likes you.” Trey stood to the side. Amusement danced in his eyes as Truffles hobbled to the edge of the enclosure and licked her.
“The feelings mutual.” She knelt on the floor, continuing to interact with the pup, stroking her soft fur. “She’s so sweet.”
“Don’t let her fool you. She does have a mischievous side. Don’t try to open a bag of chips anywhere in the house unless you want her there beside you.” Chuckling, he shook his head. “I don’t understand it. She’s exceptionally well-trained and behaved. Open a candy wrapper or even a bag of pretzels, she won’t make a move. But chips? She knows, and she goes crazy.”
“Does she have a flavor preference?” She tapped her chin. “Let me guess. She’s a plain, kettle-cooked kind of girl.”
His eyes widened with astonishment. “How’d you know?”
“Lucky guess.” She winked. “Plus, that’s typically what you would eat, so that’s what she’s used to.”
Curiosity flickered across his face, and she realized she’d said too much. She shouldn’t know little details like that about him, let alone let him know she knew. Thankfully, he didn’t comment further on her admission.
“Now that you’ve seen Truffles is well, did you give thought to dinner?” he asked, seamlessly bringing the conversation to her purpose for coming.
More than I’ll admit.“I’ll stay.”
A slow smile crept to his lips. “I’m glad.”
She stood to her feet. “Can I help with anything?”
“It’s all taken care of. The steaks are marinating in the refrigerator, potatoes are in the oven, and veggies are sliced, ready to grill.”
“I’m impressed. What would you have done if I hadn’t stayed?”
He shrugged and grinned. “Had my lunch ready for tomorrow.”
