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I turned my hand and intertwined our fingers. “I’ve already been told what plans Davey had for you.”

Shane lifted our hands and kissed my fingers. “You have to believe me . . . ”

“I don’t only believe you. I know nothing happened.”

Shane tilted his head slightly. “Really? I’m not mad at you for asking questions.”

“I have one question.”

He sat up straighter, expectantly. “Go ahead.”

I squared my shoulders. “How many times did he mention that his hair had won an award?”

Shane’s mouth fell open and his eyes widened. Finally, he threw his head back and laughed out loud. “Maybe a hundred or two hundred times,” he said finally.

After we had calmed down, Shane continued eating.

“Now that I’m eating, I can’t stop. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

He kept observing me the whole time. When his plate was empty, he pushed it away.

He pushed his chair back and pulled me onto his lap. “Thank you for your trust. It means a lot to me.”

I placed my hands on his cheeks. “I can imagine what Davey said about me. But that says more about him than it does about me.” I slowly stroked his skin. “That’s exactly what always weighed on me, and it was difficult for me to deal with. But I don’t want to bring my old worries into this new relationship. Those old feelings have no place between us. What we have is new. And special. What I used to carry with me doesn’t belong here.” Shane smiled gently, leaned forward, and kissed me quickly. “I’m sure I won’t always succeed. But when I saw TopDavey at the minivans, I knew nothing would happen between you two. You’re as different as night and day. And you wouldn’t do anything with him without talking to me first. That’s not you.”

I still had my hands on his head, so Shane looked hilarious when a heartbreaking yawn stretched his face.

“Come on! You belong in bed.”

“Oh yeah!” Shane jumped up and I slid off him. His enthusiasm was short-lived.

We slowed down as we loaded the dishwasher.

As I put the leftovers back in the refrigerator, an exasperated exclamation escaped me. “Damn. I forgot that.” I pulled the ice cream box out of the freezer and held it out to Shane.

“You made all this in such a short time?” he asked.

I shrugged. “After you called, I had to do something. For you. Driving to meet you was pointless. Otherwise, my hands were tied. All that was left was to cook.”

His expression softened, and he put his arm around my shoulder. He gazed at me intensely. “I love you too.”

I gasped audibly. I hadn’t said a word . . .

But I didn’t finish my thought because Shane continued. “You express yourself and your emotions through cooking. That’s your love language. Right?”

He tilted his head slightly, and I could only nod. “In a way, yes.” I fiddled with his shirt. “It’s difficult to say the words themselves.”

“Hey. I’m not forcing you.” Shane looked at me defiantly, and I lowered my gaze again to where my hand was resting on his chest.

“But I’ll cook you anything you could ever want. I’ll never tire of taking care of you,” I mumbled much too quickly for Shane to understand.

“See?” There was laughter in his voice. “Me too, Ruben! Me too.”

With a kiss on my forehead, he stretched past me and grabbed the ice cream. “This has to be done now.”

He opened the lid, and I fished two spoons out of the drawer.

Shane scooped up a large portion and put it in his mouth. He closed his eyes and hummed along to the music on the radio.