Page 31 of Almost Always

“You really didn’t have to leave the wedding, Hero.”

“The wedding was over anyway. Did I wake you up?”

He shook his head and grabbed her bag. “Have you eaten?”

“Pie, mostly.”

“I’ll make you something.”

The nap had given him enough energy to cook, especially now that he was also starting to get hungry. He led the way inside and set her bag at the head of the hallway.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks.” He watched as she took in the place. It wasn’t much, but it served its purpose with a large main space that he used for the living and dining rooms, as well as the open plan kitchen. The patio stretched around the entire house, leading into a garden in the back. Three bedrooms and two bathrooms were down the hall, which ended in his office. They’d been there for six weeks and it already looked like they’d been living there for years.

The sound of nails on the floor drew her attention to the side and Boots froze mid-step, eyes fixed on the newcomer in gold. Rafferty wondered if that’s how he’d been looking at her too, because once you laid eyes on her, it was impossible to look away. It was like looking at the sun, without hurting yourself.

Daisy’s eyes widened as she took in his large furry horse of a dog. Most adults were startled by his size and their reactions were always so amusing. “There’s a bear in your house, Raff,” she whispered.

“That’s Boots.”

“From the shelter, I remember.” She kept her voice light and squatted, holding a hand out. He forgot that Cal had announced at the ice cream shop about their dog. “He’s beautiful.”

So are you, he thought to himself and watched as Boots took tentative steps towards her, his tail wagging slowly. She cooed at him, offering him that dazzling smile and he saw the moment his dog fell in love with her. He sniffed her fingers, nuzzled against her palm and was seconds away from sitting in her lap. She laughed and ruffled his fur instead, kissing his forehead and his dog seemed to melt.

Or maybe Rafferty was melting and he was projecting.

“Aw, he likes me.”

“Of course he does.” She scoffed and he chuckled. “I always said you were likable. You never believed it.”

“Whatever. You said something about food?” She booped Boots’s nose and joined him in the kitchen. He opened a few cabinets until he found what he was looking for and held up the box of mac and cheese. “For old time’s sake?”

“Toss some bacon in there and absolutely.”

“Want anything to drink?”

“What are you drinking?”

“After Cal was born, I cut back. Idodrink, only when the occasion calls for it.”

“Water’s fine,” she replied quickly.

“This seems like a good occasion,” he countered.

“Only if you’re sure.”

Instead of replying, he handed her two bottles of beer and pointed at the drawer with the opener. Then got down to making their dinner. Ever since they reconnected, all of the best memories kept flooding back. He tried to rein them in, because he didn’t want to assume that what he felt seeing her again was exactly how she felt as well. As he started on the macaroni, his brain played the greatest hits—two of them in Nonna’s kitchen, making mac and cheese during a thunderstorm while his grandparents were in bed; Daisy climbing onto the counter to reach the tin of cookies his father had hidden from them; late night snacking when neither of them could sleep.

“Remember that time we almost burned down the kitchen attempting to make steak?” she asked, sliding a beer to him.

“The timeyoualmost burned down the kitchen.”

She gasped. “You were the older one and supposed to be responsible!”

“Nobody told me that. I was invited for a steak dinner and ended up eating pizza,” he said with faux disappointment.

“You’re the worst.”

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