Page 33 of Ink Me Three Times
He looks tired. Andgood. Unfairly, ruggedly good. The kind of worn in handsome that makes you want to do something wildly inappropriate in the name of comfort and bad ideas.
He stops when he sees me. Smiles.
"Hey," he says. "You look like you’ve been through it today."
"Penny staged a full psychological siege. I only just escaped."
He laughs under his breath and lifts the takeout bag like an offering. "I got too much Thai. You hungry?"
My stomach growls, snitching on me immediately.
I nod. "You had me at ‘too much.’"
We end up at the little table, and within a moment it’s covered in containers that smell like coconut curry and lemongrass and something spicy enough to temporarily erase my bad life choices.
He hands me a fork. "Figured you deserved real food after surviving bedtime."
"I think I deserve a medal," I mutter, stabbing a noodle. "Or a nap in the crawlspace."
He grins and digs into his container like this is just normal. Casual. Two people sharing dinner after putting a kid to bed. Like we’re… something.
Which we’re not. Obviously.
Still, it’s weirdly nice.
Quiet, in that full but not awkward way.
"So," I say, mouth full of rice, "did you order too much on purpose?"
"My eyes can often be bigger than my stomach."
A beat passes. The quiet settles in again. This time, softer.
Then he says, "You’re good with her. With Penny."
And just like that, my throat tightens.
Because I want to believe it. Ido. But today I let her eat three Gogurts in a row and told her Peppa Pig went to jail so I could turn off the TV.
I shrug. "She’s good with me. I think she pities me."
"She likes you."
"She has questionable taste."
He looks at me for a long second. Then says, quietly, "Still. She’s calmer around you."
"Is that a low bar or a compliment?"
"It’s both."
We laugh. It feels… real.
"So, how are you finding Coyote Glen?"
I snort. "Dusty. Nosy. Weirdly charming."
Freddie smiles. "That sounds about right."
