Page 3 of Craved By the Lumberjack

Between deliveries, I stopped by the grocery store and guessed at what he’d like. I now realized I should have texted and asked some of the basic questions I had. I just grabbed the most popular brand and a bottle of wine for myself.

“Sounds great,” he said. “Can I help with something?”

“No, just have a seat. I’ll be right there.”

He was already on his way toward the kitchen, though. My words didn’t stop him. He kept coming.

Oh crap. I was sure to drop the sheet pan of tacos I’d pulled out of the oven if he was nearby.

“I just got home, so they’re still fresh,” I said.

I’d been home about ten minutes before he showed up. Just enough time to touch up my makeup, change into jeans and a sweater, and pace nervously for a half minute or so. Thankfully, the oven had a warming drawer, and I’d used that, hoping the food would still be in good shape by the time he arrived.

“I’ll pour you some beer,” I said.

He waved me off. “Just hand me the bottle, and I’m good. In fact, I can grab it. Is it in the fridge?”

I nodded. “It hasn’t been in there long, though. I had it in my trunk. Maybe it’s cold enough outside that it stayed chilled?”

It wasn’t all that cold outside. I’d walked around in shorts all day and had only been a little uncomfortable. But I’d been in my car most of the day, and the chill in the air was nothing compared to what I’d dealt with over the winter months.

“Lukewarm beer beats any cold beverage every day of the week,” he said.

I straightened the sheet pan in my oven-mitted hand and looked at him. “Is that the right brand?”

He shrugged. “Works for me.”

“But it isn’t the brand you would have chosen.”

“It’s not my usual brand, but I’ll drink it. You want me to grab you one?”

I shook my head. “I’m having wine.”

Much to my surprise, he retrieved the bottle of wine from the fridge, then opened cabinets until he found my wine glasses. He balanced all three and headed over to the TV trays, where he set things up.

A man who helped out. I might swoon here and now.

I plated the tacos, adding the beans and rice that I’d kept in the microwave in case I needed to zap them a little longer. Butthe food was still warm enough. I spooned a generous helping of each onto our plates and carried it all over to the trays.

Only as I approached did I realize I’d forgotten something. “Did you want chips and salsa first?”

With a smile, he shook his head. “That’s just something we eat when we’re stuck in the restaurant waiting for the food to come, right?”

“Right,” I said. “Like bread. By the time the food actually arrives, you’re not even hungry anymore.”

“Exactly. So, do we watch TV while we do this?”

I looked at the screen. “My grandma always had us watch a quiz show.”

“Quiz show?” he asked.

“She said it would sharpen our minds.”

“Fire it up,” he said. “Let’s sharpen our minds.”

I sat down on the couch behind my TV tray, which was set up next to his. There was a cushion between us, though—plenty of distance. This wasn’t officially a date, but even if it was, it was our first date, and we were still getting to know each other.

I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. I was pretty sure there was no way I’d be able to find that exact quiz show on right now, but I was a little embarrassed to reveal that I’d set it to record. It was one of the first things I did after turning on the TV.

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