He somehow grinned and frowned at the same time, and she imagined the scene with her stepping back and allowing him to enter her office, a cold front between them that would gradually thaw as they ate and spoke. Instead, Trap barreled right into her, lifting the white plastic bag of food he carried over her shoulder as he engulfed her in a hug.
Not just any hug. The best hug of her life, for Trap Walker was very, very good at giving hugs.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice laced with sincerity and another emotion that Lila Mae couldn’t quite place. She melted into his chest, her own arms betraying her and coming up and surrounding him, and then her traitorous voice said, “It’s fine.”
“It didn’t sound fine in the texts,” he said.
“Maybe I was a little mad at the extra chores I had to do this morning,” she said. “And I was up, and you didn’t even say goodbye.”
He pulled back and looked down at her. “I’m really sorry, Lila Mae.” He opened his eyes a little wider and nodded.
“You took exceptional care of me, and allowed me to invade your house, and take over your whole evening. You fed me greatfood and ordered exactly what I needed to get better, and I just walked out like a fool.” He leaned down, and for one breathless moment, Lila Mae thought he’d kiss her, but he moved too far in, and he pressed his cheek to hers. Lila Mae pressed back, this movement almost more intimate than their lips touching.
“I don’t know why I lose my head around you,” he said. “But I really am sorry. I can go clean up the house right now while you eat.” He stepped back, his eyes searching, wondering, questioning.
Lila Mae didn’t want him to go, and she shook her head. “What did you bring for lunch?”
A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Trap’s mouth. “My momma’s Sunday roast dinner,” he said. “I think you’re really going to like it.” He glanced into her office. “You want to eat in here? We could go back to your place.”
“Here’s fine,” Lila Mae said. She’d actually driven over to the Intake Center today, because she planned to go to town after this. “And I’m eating your mother’s leftovers?”
“They’re really good,” he said. “I promise. And it was all I could do to get out of the house with them and get here on time.” He glanced around. “It doesn’t look like you’ve started eating lunch yet.”
“I just hired a veterinarian.” Lila Mae followed him into the office and closed the door behind her. “So you told your parents about the heat stroke.”
“Yeah,” he said, turning to face her. “My daddy and I meet every Tuesday morning for breakfast and business, and, well, I was late, and I had to tell him something.”
“And you’re not a liar.” Lila Mae gave him a smile and pulled one of the plush chairs in front of her desk closer to it.
Trap did the same, and then he pulled out two black plastic containers with clear lids. “My momma even heated it up, andit’s only been the drive here since. If you hate it, I’ll go get you something else.”
“I’m not going to hate it, Trap,” Lila Mae said.
“I really am sorry,” he said. “And if you’ll let me try again, and you like pasta, there’s a pretty great Italian place in town that I’d love to take you to for dinner.”
Lila Mae nodded. “I suppose I can be convinced to go out to dinner with you.”
Trap gave her that sly cowboy grin that she’d seen on his face a couple of times, and she wondered if she’d just given in as easily to him as she did to hiring anyone who would apply to work at Feline Friends.
Then she decided she didn’t care. She liked Trap, and he seemed to like her, and while things were still new and developing between them, the only way that could continue was if Lila Mae got to spend more time with him outside of work.
He handed her a fork, and Lila Mae took it. “It’s just beef roast, potatoes, and gravy.”
“Did your parents not go to the potluck on Sunday?” Lila Mae asked. She hadn’t specifically looked for Micah and Simone Walker, as she figured everyone in town attended the church linger longer.
“No, they did,” he said. “But Momma made a roast anyway, because it keeps us fed all week.”
Lila Mae found it endearing that his mother had made up lunches for him for the week. She looked down at her pot roast, potatoes, and gravy. It did still seem warm, and it smelled like beef and salt and everything delicious.
A wave of nostalgia rolled over her for some reason, though she hadn’t eaten a lot of roast and potatoes on the Southern plantation where Lila Mae had grown up, nor at the massive estate outside of Baltimore. She sniffled, and Trap said, “Hey, are you okay?”
She looked at him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
“You seem a little…shaky.”
Lila Mae nodded and pressed her lips together, noting that he hadn’t started eating either. “I guess sometimes I’m just reminded that I’m all alone here, and I don’t really have very many people I can rely on.”
He reached over and put his hand on her knee, the heat from his body searing into hers. “Hey, you’ve got me,” he said. “You can call and text me day or night, and I’ll be right here.”
