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“Yeah, no, my mom gets credit for those. She walked me through it over FaceTime. Grandma gave the recipe to Mom when she got married because they were Dad’s favorite growing up. Mom makes them mostly at Christmas and she taught us kids.”

Jodie smiled into her glass. She could get facts from a file. The warm glow on Mac’s face when he talked about his family, on the other hand, she could not.

Mac took a sip of wine, then set the glass down.

“Speaking of things you already know about me,” he said carefully, “I talked to the volunteer group yesterday about Sand Wash.”

Jodie sighed. “You’re right, I do know. I talked to the leader this morning. She said they’re thrilled to have you.” Jodie smiled, but nerves tangled with the excitement. “I’m glad you’re coming.”

And she was. Probably more glad than she should be. Sand Wash meant days together instead of glimpses at the office, text messages, and hoping Mac’s latest client went to bed at a reasonable hour so they could talk.

Which felt incredibly selfish considering what she knew.

Mac studied her across the table. “You’re still worried.”

Dammit.

Before she could answer, their server arrived with dinner. Jodie’s dish smelled incredible—duck confit, sausage, white beans, garlic and herbs beneath a browned crust. She took one bite and closed her eyes.

“Oh, wow.”

Mac smiled. “Good?”

“If you ask for a bite, I’m saying no.”

“I hadn’t planned to.”

She pointed her fork at him. “You were thinking about it.”

“I am now,” he said with a smirk.

She laughed, grateful for the distraction. “You’re terrible.”

Mac’s expression went soft. “I’ll be careful out there, Jodie.”

“Mac. It’s just…You had heatstroke on a deployment. It ended your service.”

Mac went still. “Yeah.” His gaze flicked away then back to hers. “That background check really was thorough.”

Jodie smiled softly. “Kyle is terrifying.”

I can’t have him suffering heatstroke again.

But she remembered the way he’d handled carrying her down the mountain and realized he hadn’t just been stopping to give her water, but to give himself a break and to rehydrate. He would be careful. He knew how to handle himself.

“I’ve got this, Jodie,” he said quietly, his eyes almost pleading with her.

She set her fork down. “I know.”

She believed him. She was also mentally adding extra water, electrolyte packets, cooling towels, and portable shade to her Sand Wash supply lists. For a moment she considered asking how bad it had been. Whether there had been lasting damage beyond the heat intolerance she’d already noticed.

Instead, she picked up her wine. “Good. Because I do want you there.”

Mac’s expression relaxed.

“And I want to be there.”

And that, selfish or not, made her ridiculously happy.