Page 6 of Patio Lanterns

His eyes followed the invisible line she drew under her bosom. “Dawn Cherries,” he read aloud. “Clever. I’m guessing the name has nothing to do with the hockey commentator.”

“Nope. Don Cherry and the Dawn Cherries have nothing in common, other than being unapologetically outspoken and having an affinity for flamboyant sports jackets,” she joked, resisting the inclination to admit they’d both been cancelled too.

“I’ll be sure to check them out,” he said.

She nodded. “Well, I guess we’d better be going.”

“Right. Better not keep your ex-military boyfriend waiting.” The man removed his glasses and wiped his hands on his jeans as he met Robin at the door. Mutt gave up waiting for any more food to fall and joined them at the front entrance.

She turned and held out her hand. “Thanks again for letting me use your bathroom, er… neighbour.”

“Rick,” he said as they shook hands. He met her eyes with a warm, thoughtful gaze. “And if you need it again, or want to charge your phone or whatever, don’t hesitate to come back later, er—”

“Robin,” she answered. Rick seemed like a really cool guy. Attractive too, if she was being totally honest. This zaddy could definitely get it.

They exchanged goodnights, and she sauntered into the night. She slowed her pace as she and Mutt travelled the driveway, hoping Rick might have a change of heart and extend an invitation for them to stay. A nice evening enjoying adult conversation with a nice man in his nice, cozy cottage sounded pretty… nice. Certainly much nicer than going back to her stuffy van to share a cold can of Chef Boyardee with a farting dog.

While Operation Naked Aidan Hunter hadn’t been a success, it wasn’t a completely wasted effort either. Because if Robin had been truly disappointed by what she’d found instead, it might not have been as difficult to walk away.

4

Rick

As Rick stood in the doorway, something compelled him to call out to her, yet he couldn’t quite find the voice to ask her to come back.

Robin was a lovely girl, sparkly, funny too, and by the sounds of it, led quite an interesting life with her three-legged dog. He was intrigued. There was something entirely appealing about their all-too-brief encounter that left him wanting to learn more. But if he asked her to stay, would she think he was a creep? A middle-aged cliché? Alternatively, if she stayed at his request, would she quickly grow bored and regret wasting her time? He wasn’t sure which would be worse.

Stop overthinking it before she disappears, asshole.

“Robin, wait!”

She made a U-turn in the driveway. Mutt galloped back to the cottage, his tail wagging. Robin followed several paces behind, and Rick felt relieved that she was smiling and not annoyed that he’d called her back.

“Why don’t you stick around for dinner?” he asked as she neared his front step. “I’ve got steak marinating and a salad on the go, plus there’s plenty of beer stocked in the fridge.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I… I mean, we really couldn’t…” Robin was interrupted by pleading whines from her hungry companion. She bent down to him. “Where are your manners?”

“They say it’s far better for the digestion to share a meal with someone than to eat alone,” he said, hoping it might convince her to stay.

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t be right to hinder proper digestion,” she said with a smile. “But only if you’re absolutely sure.”

He nodded. “I am. And your, uh, boyfriend is welcome too, of course,” he said, looking past her shoulder for the scary ex-military brute allegedly stationed down the street.

“There’s no one else out there. It’s just me and Mutt.” She shrugged. “Sorry I lied, but a girl can never be too careful.”

“Ah, the ol’ fake boyfriend self-defence,” he said, amused. “Hey, I totally get it. But if you really want to protect yourself, you should carry pepper spray.”

She patted her shoulder bag. “Who says I’m not?”

He nodded. “Attagirl. Next time, lead with that instead.”

Robin followed him into the kitchen, where Rick opened a couple bottles of beer. He handed one to her, and they clinked before taking a sip.

“What can I do to help?” she asked brightly, inspecting the prep he’d started at the kitchen island.

Usually he wouldn’t dream of asking his guest to lift a finger, but since she’d offered, he realized he could use an extra set of hands. He was delighted she was willing to pitch in. “How about you finish the chopped salad, and I’ll get the steaks ready.”

Rick pulled the steaks out of the fridge. If he was cooking for one, which he did every night, sirloins would’ve suited him just fine. But he was relieved that he’d had the urge to splurge on ribeyes that week, despite not knowing he’d be entertaining company.

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