“What?”
Dillon had been hyper concentrating on his driving—no surprise there—and he turned to glance at her. “Oh, my favorite thing? Mashed potatoes for sure. I think I could eat a whole pan of them. What about you?”
“I love a good gravy. Does your mom make gravy?”
“It’s the best. I pour it over everything, the potatoes, the turkey, the green beans, the stuffing.” He turned red, probably realizing he was getting a little too enthusiastic in his ode to gravy.
Lina laughed. “I didn’t think I could get more excited about a meal, but we’ve just surpassed it.”
“Whatever.” He shook his head, looking even more embarrassed.
Lina unbuckled her passenger seatbelt when they reached a red light and scooted over to the middle seat before digging into the seat crevice to search for the middle buckle.
“I’ll get it.” Dillon’s warm, weathered hand pressed against hers as she pulled her hand out to let him do the searching. The contact caused her heart to beat in double time, and she inwardly gave herself a stern lecture. Today was just a favor for a new friend. There were no real feelings involved here.
“Found it.” Dillon grinned, putting his adorable dimples on display. “I guess it will look better if we show up sitting next to each other, huh? The dogs will announce our presence before we have time to put this thing in park, and I wouldn’t be surprised if my mom met us at the truck.” Dillon reached across her and pulled the seatbelt strap across her chest and into the buckle. His smooth jaw brushed against her forehead for just a second.
The two or three weeks worth of scruff he’d been growing out was gone. How had she not noticed before? Apparently, Thanksgiving was a shave-worthy occasion. She wanted to reach out and touch his baby soft skin. Instead, she tucked her hands under her thighs and tried to stop staring, debating whether he was more handsome with the scruff or without it. All this over putting a seatbelt on.
Lina closed her eyes, telling her ridiculous self to calm it down. She was such a hypocrite, teasing Dillon about not reacting to close contact. Here she was, not fifteen minutes later, fumbling like a teenager around her first crush. What was the difference between then and now?
But she knew the answer to that question. Before, she’d purposely touched him to get a reaction. Everything had been on her terms, the way she liked it. Dillon didn’t operate that way. He wasn’t aggressive or even assertive like most guys, finding reasons to touch her, or finding charming things to say. Everything about Dillon was genuine, what-you-see-is-what-you-get. She hadn’t found that in … ever. She wasn’t sure what to do with a dynamic like that yet.
Dillon’s Carhartt jacket kept brushing against her arm and she was glad the rough material kept her from closer contact with him. She didn’t want physical attraction clouding her judgment right now. It was time to regroup and take charge. She was good at that.
“Are there other animals, besides dogs?” She was still trying to picture a working farm.
“Two barn cats. Oh, I should have asked. Are you allergic to anything? Or afraid of dogs? They’re harmless, but they’re big and full of energy.”
“I can handle excited jumping, just not warning growls or lunging at me and snapping. I had an aunt who had dogs like that. She’d always say they had to get to know me first. That was a little hard to take as a ten-year-old.”
“These are working dogs. Super friendly. They’ll probably just want to sniff you. I’ll keep them back.”
“Thanks.” She was glad he hadn’t asked any follow up questions about her aunt. Why she’d shared that fun little tidbit from her childhood, she’d never know. It had been a relief when she and her mom had moved too far away to visit that particular aunt again.
Dillon rubbed his hands down the steering wheel. “Thank you for coming. I just want to apologize in advance for anything my mom says.”
“Well, that’s comforting.” The sarcastic response kind of kicked out on its own.
Dillon squirmed in his seat, and she patted his knee. “I’m kidding. That’s the reason I’m going. To distract your mom from saying those things to your future sister-in-law.”
“Yes. Distraction. I’ve been trying to think of the best way to do that. My mom loves to cook. I’m usually the one helping her in the kitchen, but maybe you could tag along this time. She’ll be too busy to talk to anyone else until dinner. We’ll make sure of it.”
“Sounds like a good plan. Or is that too many cooks in the kitchen?”
Dillon shrugged. “I consider myself more of an assistant. I’ll duck out if we start bumping into each other.”
“And leave me alone with her?”
“I feel like I’ve exaggerated things to the point where you think she’s going to attack you or something. For all I know, you two might be best buds.”
Lina wasn’t truly all that worried, but the curiosity was killing her. “Okay, tell me something she said to your last girlfriend. Or have you never brought one home before?”
Dillon rubbed his shoulder. “My last girlfriend wasn’t a fan of my mom. Let’s not go there. But, to give you an example, my mom once asked my high school girlfriend if I was a good kisser.” His face turned bright red again. “Pretend I never said that. It’s a memory time can’t even make less embarrassing.”
“Did she mean it as a joke? Like when parents pull out baby pictures?”
“Yes, it was a joke, but she’s also that nosy. Okay, I’m making it worse.”
