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“What are you doing here?” We don’t have any plans or anything, I don’t think. Last night Calvin and I worked until after nine, and got through a few boxes.

It was fun, as weird as it is to say about work and a guy I don’t know too well, besides being my brother’s best friend and all. We ate pizza, chatted, and wiped stuff off my to-do list. I still have a ton left, but he helped ease the burden a little bit.

And it wasn’t as awkward as I thought it might be. Truthfully, besides my brother, I don’t seek out time from the opposite sex. I’ve gotten burned in the past, and I don’t want to repeat that experience—ever.

“I figured you’d be working late again, so I brought some dinner and thought I’d offer to help again.” He lifts ‌the little white takeout bag in his hand.

My heart flutters in my chest, but I tamp it down.

“What you got in there?” I ask, trying to peek or smell my way to the answer.

“Chinese from around the corner. Beef and broccoli for you.”

My favorite.

How did he know? I rack my brain to check if we’ve ever shared a meal together, but it’s only large foundations or team dinners with sizable attendance and stuffy food options.

“Smells good.” It’s the understatement of the year.

“Here.” He hands me the bag, ensuring our fingers do not touch.

“Are you eating too?”

“Yeah. I got enough for both of us. But I can take it to go if you want me to?” he asks with a slight tilt of his head.

I swallow and bite my lip. The desire to flee is…

Not much.

My hands shake, but my body also vibrates with excitement, too.

Could Cal be different from most guys of my acquaintance? Could I have a positive experience with this man and not be left battered to the ground?

My eyes take him in. He’s wearing a fitted black T-shirt, his strength pronounced, and a pair of gray athletic pants that are too casual but also extremely attractive at the same time.

His bald head is mostly covered with a red ball cap twisted backward on his head, and his full blond beard is newly trimmed with his usual smirk lifting his lips.

A silent laugh bubbles as I mentally compare him to my ex-husband, who was lanky and polished with a hair care regimen and scheduled spa treatments. Cal is nothing like that, a little different than most men I know.

I don’t think I could ever handle a relationship again, but maybe I could open myself up to the possibility of a friendly acquaintance or an actual male friend?

“Stay,” I say with a decided nod. “We can eat in the kitchen again.”

We exit my office and into the space I haven’t wandered into all day yet.

“I see my handy work is still intact.” He points to the traitorous refrigerator, his face gleaming with pride.

I hum in response and grab napkins, then sit next to each other at a small circular dining table.

He takes out the containers and places one in front of me. I pull open my box of beef and broccoli, where the savory smell fills my lungs, briefly bringing me back to the sweet memories of my childhood.

I grab chopsticks and dig in. And yep, it tastes better than it smells, which is a feat in itself.

“Did you go to Chung’s?” I ask, then turn my head to realize the white takeout bag clearly says those letters, spread out in huge print.

“Yup. My favorite place.”

Mine too.