Page 30 of The Good Guy on My Porch

“Do you have any food in your house, yet?”

“I’m sure I can find something to throw together.”

“And I’m sure tacos will be better. I owe you a meal, and I’m going there anyway. It won’t be any trouble to pick something up for you.” It wasn’t a lie because the idea had made me crave tacos. I’d grab some, even if she turned me down.

“Really?” she asked.

“Really. What do you want? Fish taco?”

She scrunched her nose in distaste. “Just the standard beef taco. With everything on it. If you wait, I can walk with you—”

“You get your laundry in and I’ll bring the tacos to you.”

“Give me just a minute and I’ll bring you some money.”

I watched her walk inside and patted Buddy’s head. “Take care of her. I’ll be right back.”

I was halfway down the block when I heard her call my name, but I just smiled and kept walking.

When I got back, tacos in hand, she was on the porch next to Buddy, her hand in his fur, and she was smiling.

I sat next to the two of them, put the bag of food between us, and handed over her taco. She took it, though she didn’t look happy about it. “How much do I owe you?”

I put my finger to her lips, trying my best to be silly about it and not notice how plump and soft they felt beneath my finger. “No talk. This is a low-stress, silent meal. We will do nothing but eat and enjoy the amazing view before us.”

I took my finger away and she opened them. “But—”

I shoved my finger against her lips again. “Shh. No talking. No thinking. Just taste the food in your mouth, breathe in the clean air, and enjoy the beauty surrounding us.”

I pulled my finger away slowly and dropped my attention to the bag of food and my own meal before I did something stupid like replacing my finger with my lips. When I glanced over at Dilly, she was watching me, a contemplative look on her face. When she met my gaze, she looked away quickly and shoved a bite of taco in her mouth.

I ate, chewing slowly and thoughtfully, savoring every flavor, every bite. I looked out at the mountains and I just breathed, thinking of nothing. I also allowed myself to enjoy Dilly’s warm presence next to me, her jaw working as she chewed, the faint scent of citrus that always surrounded her.

“Can I talk now?” Dilly asked, once we were done eating, our trash stuffed into the bag, the bag shoved behind us. We were both petting Buddy now, our hands occasionally bumping as we ran them through his fur.

“I didn’t think you wanted to talk,” I said.

She smiled, the sadness now almost completely gone from her eyes. “I just want to thank you. That was amazing.”

“Do you feel better?”

“I do. I feel lighter and so peaceful. It’s like everything I was worried about just washed away.”

“What are you worried about?” I couldn’t help leaning in, wanting to get closer to her.

Her expression shuttered, and she looked back at the mountain. “Taxes, rent money, climate change, the usual stuff.”

I knew she was blowing off my question and I wanted to push her, to make her tell me her real worries, but I didn’t have that right. I was just the guy next door, her doggy co-parent. So, I changed the subject. “You said you’ve always lived in Catalpa Creek?”

She nodded, her gaze still on the mountains. “I have.”

“Are you parents still here? Siblings?”

She stiffened, and I knew I’d asked the wrong question. “My dad passed away when I was twelve and I’m an only child, but my mom still lives in town.”

“Are you close?”

She stared at the mountains for a long moment, and I figured she wasn’t going to answer. The sun had set, and the light was dimming quickly. I stared into the darkness and got lost in my own thoughts.

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