Her mouth curves slightly. “That’s good, because I panicked for a full thirty seconds in your driveway.”
“I believe that.”
She exhales, tension easing just a little.
“Good,” she says. “Because turning around felt dramatic.”
“It would’ve been.”
She nods. “That’s what I thought.”
Rainey is still standing in the doorway when I turn back toward the kitchen, like she’s taking it all in again with a different lens this time. I don’t give her much time to settle into that.
“Come on,” I say, already moving. “You’re just in time.”
“For what?” she asks, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.
I nod toward the back. “Dinner.”
The grill’s already hot when I push open the door to the porch. The air outside carries that late-day warmth, mixed with the sharper edge of cooling evening. It’s a good night for this.
Rainey follows, pausing just behind me as I lift the lid and lay the steaks down. The sizzle hits immediately and I don’t miss the way she reacts to it.
“That looks unfairly good,” she says.
“It’s steak,” I reply. “It’s supposed to.”
I close the lid and step back, wiping my hands on a towel before reaching for the cooler I set out earlier. I flip it open and pull out a container.
“Millie,” I say, handing it to her.
She takes it, opening the lid carefully.
“Potato salad,” she reads. Then she looks up at me. “You planned this.”
“I stopped by earlier.”
“That’s planning.”
I shrug. “It’s efficient.”
She studies the container for a second longer, then sets it on the small table beside the grill.
“And the dessert you forgot?” I say, lifting an eyebrow. I reach back into the cooler and pull out the box. She sees it immediately.
“No,” she says.
“Yes.”
“You bought dessert.”
“I bought dessert.”
She takes the box from me, opening it like she expects it to disappear if she hesitates.
Fresh apple pie. She looks at me.
“I owe you.”
