Page 33 of Digging Up Love
“Yeah, well, they’re so quiet we hardly know they’re there.” A total lie; she could think of nothing else. “Plus, he knows if he caters lunch today, they’ll get hooked on our barbecue and be repeat customers all summer.”
Hank chuckled. “Can’t argue with that.” He slid the sealed tray next to the others. “I’m gonna head on out and check the smoker.”
“Thanks, Hank.” She picked up the meat and carried it out the side door to the alley. Meg stood by the Geo, scrolling through her phone. Alisha set the food in the trunk and walked backward toward the door. “Care to help bring out the rest of the food, Marge, or am I interrupting your Tindering?”
“I’ve told you a million times, it’s not Tinder.” She hurried over and swung the door open, bracing her back against it to let Alisha through. “It’s an app called Forever Love for people who are marriage minded.”
Alisha snorted.Marriage minded?“Mm-hmm, and how’s that going for you?”
“Okay, so I’ve dated a few duds. But I’m learning how to decode the profiles to weed out the guys who are just looking for a casual fling.”
“Wait, I’m confused. I thought you said every man signed up to find a bride!” Alisha laughed and dodged her friend’s slap.
“I don’t know why you’re so dead set against dating, Ali. That attitude might’ve been cute before, but in case you haven’t noticed, we’re not getting any younger. Aren’t you worried about being single when you turn”—she hoisted up the stack of containers and whispered—“thirty?”
“Careful, someone might hear you!” Alisha feigned horror. “But no, I’m really not. And anyway, if I got into a relationship right now, it would only last a couple months. I’m leaving town, remember?”
“Don’t remind me,” Meg said with a pout. “But what if the guy you’re dating left too?” Meg’s eyes held a wicked gleam. “Don’t tell me you haven’t considered it. Like I haven’t noticed the look you get on your face every time you text him.”
“What look on my face?” She grabbed a bag of homemade rolls and opened the door for her friend. “And how do you know I’ve been texting Quentin?” Apparently she hadn’t been as discreet as she thought.
“Alisha, you text him more than you text me. I’d be offended if we didn’t see each other pretty much every day.” Meg stacked the trays on top of the others. “I’ve kept my mouth shut about your texting spree because you’re skittish as heck about men, and I figured asking about him would make you block his number or something else drastic.”
Sadly, she had a point.
“So are you going to do something about it?” Meg prodded.
“What, like throw myself at him?”
“How about casually running into him on the daily and letting fate do the rest? Seems easier than avoiding someone who’s going to be staked out in your yard all summer. And less stressful than bottling up all that tension you’ve built with two months of emotional foreplay.”
Alisha groaned. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yet you love me,” she said in a singsong voice.
She tossed the rolls into the trunk and slammed it shut. Meg had a point. Pursuing a relationship with Quentin would be easier thanavoiding him. For most people. But casual didn’t work for her. She’d never learned the knack of separating head from heart. And though she yearned for a family of her own, commitment terrified her. More than never leaving town, more than opening a bakery in Chicago and failing.
The idea of relying on a man left her palms clammy, fighting for purchase on a rope above an abyss. And having a husband and kids who counted on her? Worse. What if she wasn’t up for the long haul? Her grandparents had sacrificed so much to raise her and Simone, and she couldn’t even commit to the family business. How could she ever stay true to a man? No one should sign up to be her family. No dating, then. Not for her.
“You’re assuming Quentin is even remotely interested in me,” she said, deflecting.
“He’d be a fool if he wasn’t.”
Meg had that one backward. He’d be a fool if hewas.
“Where do you want these?” Alisha hovered near the kitchen island, peering over the stack of trays in her arms.
Fishing tea bags out of a crystal carafe, Granny sent a smile their way even warmer than the buttery yellow paint on the kitchen walls.
“Just set ’em down anywhere,” she said. “Then you girls oughta go on out back and check out the dig.”
“Naw, Margaret’s not interested in the dinosaur.” A baritone voice broke into the conversation. Alisha’s grandpa strode in and tossed a sheaf of papers on the counter, leaning over to peck his wife on the cheek.
He pretended to do a double take at Meg’s expression. “Wait, you’re not, are you?”
Alisha laughed and poked her friend’s shoulder. “After all these years, it’s like you don’t know him at all. You think Grandpa would letyou leave without seeing the big show? You’re one of the few people who knows what’s really going on.” And so far—she knocked on the wood cabinet under the countertop—no one else in town seemed to suspect anything out of the ordinary.
“My granddaughter’s right.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a grin underneath white stubble. “I’ll meet you out there.”
