“Hi.”
We stared at each other for one second too long.
Then Ellie lifted the bottle.
“I brought wine.”
“I already have wine.”
“I remember. You panicked.”
“I’m prepared.”
“Do prepared people usually look that frightened?”
“I’m not frightened.”
“Your cheese board is visible from the porch.”
I glanced over my shoulder.
“That proves nothing.”
“It has symmetry.”
“I like symmetry.”
“You moved the almonds, didn’t you?”
I stared at her.
“How could you possibly know that?”
“They have nervous energy.”
She stepped inside, smiling, and kissed me before I could defend the almonds.
It was brief.
Warm.
Casual enough to feel more intimate than the kisses at the pier or behind the dive shop.
Like arriving and kissing me was already something she did.
When she pulled back, she held up the paper bag.
“I brought emergency bread.”
“I have bread.”
“Of course you do.”
“And crackers.”
“I saw.”
“And a roasted chicken.”
