Page 8 of The Good Guy on My Porch

“Rough day at work?” I asked

She looked up, her big eyes widening a bit as she realized I was there. “Work?” Her gaze sharpened still more as she digested my words. “No, everything’s fine there. How are you?”

“I’m great. Just waiting for the sun to set. Want to join me?”

Her smile made my heart stutter. “Sure. I’ll just run in and get something to eat. I’m starving.”

She hurried inside, and I picked up the book I’d brought out. I read two pages before Dilly was back, a bowl of neon-orange noodles in her hand. She dropped down next to me. “What are you reading?”

I flipped the book cover closed so she could see the title. “It’s about the mental benefits of yoga. I’m taking a class at the university.”

“Are there a lot of mental benefits? Will I get smarter if I start doing yoga?”

“Maybe,” I said. “But I’m pretty sure that toxic sludge you’re eating would counteract any benefits.”

She smiled, not the least bit offended. “But this toxic sludge tastes so good and it’s so easy to make. Or reheat in the microwave in this case.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I’ve eaten mac and cheese from a box since I was a kid. I don’t even remember what it tastes like.”

“It tastes like heaven. Warm and cheesy and filling. The perfect comfort food.”

I wanted to ask if she needed comfort, but her head popped up from her bowl and she pointed at the mountains. “It’s starting,” she said around a mouthful of orange noodles.

She had terrible taste in food and worse table manners, but she was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. The sunset was particularly spectacular, with an almost blinding array of bright sunlight and purples and pinks.

“I haven’t been to the other side of that mountain since I was a kid,” she said, her voice low, like she was speaking to herself.

“Why not?”

She looked at me, her expression inexpressibly sad, but she smiled quickly, chasing the sadness away like it had never been there. “I’ve had no reason to go. I have everything I need here.”

“There are some pretty cool things to see on the other side of the mountains.”

“I’m sure there are,” she said with an easy smile. “But I’m a simple girl.”

She yawned. “I’m beat. I’m going to hit the hay. See you Monday for our torture session?”

Relief washed through me that she’d remembered and that she still planned to go with me. “I’ll pick you up.”

She grinned and hurried inside.

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