I ask Mom if she’s okay if I go take a quick lunch since we finished the special order, and she shoos me with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Don’t worry about coming back; I’ve got it covered. And I’ll run by the hospital after so you don’t need to.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Farmor would be so relieved to know you’re finding a little happiness of your own—especially during such a hard time. You know how much she worries about you.”
She doesn’t realize that her words have the opposite effect of what she intended, but I manage to maintain my smile and say, “It’s only lunch. He has to get back to work too. I won’t be long.”
“Have fun, sweetie,” she calls after me.
“All good?” Hunter asks when I come back out.
“All good.”
Maybe he can sense my mood has also changed, because we’re both quiet as he walks beside me to his car. He opens my door for me, and I slide onto the leather seat, feeling very frumpy in my flour-dusted jeans, Konditori Bakery T-shirt (this one saysNice Buns, Swede-Heart, with a graphic of ourkanelbullar), and messy topknot.
“Do you have somewhere in mind already?” I ask as he shifts into reverse. His engine purrs as we accelerate out of the parking lot and onto the street.
“Yes, actually.”
“Oh, where?”
“You’ll see.”
But we don’t drive to a restaurant—instead, we turn into a nearby park. “I don’t see any food trucks,” I comment.
“Don’t need ’em.”
My lips purse. “I’m not one of those girls who lives on cactus water.”
“Tragic,” Hunter says deadpan. “I even brought my magnifying glass. Those ants aren’t going to fry themselves.”
I give him the side-eye. “Wow. Sarcasm and a plan? Who are you, and what did you do with my emotionally unavailable neighbor?”
Hunter merely smirks as he parks. Fuchsia blooms tumble from the bougainvillea bushes, scattering across the sidewalks in careless splashes of color. Overhead, the sun gleams in a cloudless sky, and the air—while still warm—holds a gentler edge than it did last week. The high is only in the low seventies. Perfect weather for a picnic, which, I realize, is what he’s planned, as he gets out of the car, opensmy door for me, and then circles back to the trunk, where he pulls out two large plastic bags from a cooler.
“Panera?” I ask with a smile. “You already bought food—from Panera?”
“If I recall, you seem to like this place.” He hands me one of the bags and shuts the trunk.
“But I thought you said the green goddess salad was a questionable choice?”
“I had nothing against green goddess salad—until it assaulted me and ruined my favorite tie.”
“I wrecked yourfavoritetie? I deserve to die a thousand deaths.”
“As long as they’re all death by green goddess dressing.” He laughs, a deep, throaty sound that vibrates through my body. The second it stops, I want to hear it again. I suddenly want to make it my personal life goal to make Hunter laugh as often as possible. “It wasn’t even a top-ten tie,” he admits, his grin flashing.
“Punk.” I roll my eyes and follow him toward a table in the shade beneath a large tree. “What were you going to do if I said no to lunch?”
“Take it home and put it in the fridge for you to eat later, if you wanted.”
We sit down across from each other, and I pull out the container. Never before has a salad made me emotional. “This was really thoughtful of you, Hunter. Thank you.”
He doesn’t look up from his panini. “I figured a park was a safer place to play confessions of a mess than a busy restaurant.”
“You wereseriousabout playing again?” I open my salad and take a bite.
“It’s not what I would call a ‘fun game,’” he uses air quotes, “but itdidmake me get things out in the open that I’ve been holding in for too long.” He still doesn’t look up, and I can see a faint flush along the collar of his light-blue shirt. “It made me willing to go out on a limb and ask if you would go on this lunch date, which might seem stupid, but for me right now, it’s a big deal.”
Warmth blossoms in my chest when our eyes finally meet. All my goals to protect us both by keeping him at a distance melt away at the smile he gives me. See?Notpushing him away. Talia and Lou arewrong. “Okay. Are you starting?”
