Me: They’re going to love you.
Chase: You think?
I came so close to typing, “Yes, because I do.” Instead, I typed,
Me: Yeah, I think.
Chapter 40
Chase
Istood in my backyard, staring at a grill I didn’t know how to operate.
What had I been thinking, offering to host?
“Just have everyone over,” I’d said. “We can grill. It’ll be casual and comfortable.”
Casual and comfortable.
Those were two words that didn’t apply when you were about to be interrogated by your boyfriend’s—were we using that word yet?—entire friend group and you couldn’t even figure out how to light a goddamn propane grill.
I checked my watch for the fiftieth time.
Finn was supposed to arrive in ten minutes, everyone else in an hour. I had ten minutes to figure out how fire worked.
The doorbell rang.
“Well, shit,” I said, glaring at the stubborn device mocking my every effort.
I tossed the lighter on the patio table and headed inside, opening the door to find Finn standing there with two grocery bags in his arms and an amused expression on his face.
“You’re early,” I said. “And you brought groceries?”
“I figured you’d need help.” He stepped inside and headed straight for the kitchen, setting the bags on the counter. “And based on the panic in your eyes, I was right.”
“I’m not panicking.”
His eyes practically rolled out of his head, onto the floor, and out into the Tampa sunlight. The laugh that followed was easy and free.
“Oh, my sweet, beautifully ignorant attorney, you’reabsolutelypanicking.” He started unpacking the bags—potato salad, coleslaw, buns, condiments. “What have you done so far?”
“I bought meat and vegetables and beer. Lots of beer.”
“Okay. And?”
“And I tried to turn on the grill, but I think it might be broken.”
Finn blinked up at me from across the kitchen island. “Chase Sullivan, please tell me you didn’t just say the grill is broken.”
“It won’t light,” I mumbled like a kid caught stealingcandy.
“Did you check if the propane tank is connected?”
My brow bunched. “The what?”
Finn’s smile was equal parts amused and fond. “Oh, honey. You’re hopeless outside an office, aren’t you?”
“I’m a lawyer. I went to school. I can argue the Constitution and crime and . . . fuck me . . . I just can’t—”
