“Better now,” he says, pulling into his driveway.
I ignore his confession, but my heart is doing this splutter thing in my chest. “What are we having?” I ask as I reach for the door handle.
“Stay there.” He points his index finger at me as he jumps out of the truck and jogs to my door. He offers me his hand and helps me out. Instead of releasing his grip, he laces his fingers through mine as we make our way up the steps of the wraparound porch.
“I love this house. I love this porch.”
He nods. “You’ve always loved wraparound porches.”
I turn to look at him, but his eyes are focused on guiding us into his house. I don’t know how he knows that about me. Well, I mean, he’s known me for years. What’s more unbelievable is that he remembered something that simple about me.
When we reach the kitchen, he turns to look at me, a sheepish smile on his handsome face. “I don’t know if it’s still your favorite, but I made chicken alfredo.”
“Yum. I’m starving,” I admit as my belly growls at the thought of a nice warm plate of chicken alfredo. “And yes, it’s still my favorite.” This, too, is not something I ever expected Rip to remember about me. Sure, we’re friends, but I’m his sister's best friend.
“I made it. Now, come sit.” He gives my hand a small tug and leads me into the dining room. It’s set up with two place settings, fresh flowers, and a candle that’s unlit in the middle.
“Kenna,” he says, his voice husky as he drops my hand and pulls a seat out for me.
I smile at him but don’t reply. I can’t seem to form words. I don’t know what’s happening here.
Am I dreaming?
I watch as he grabs one of those lighters that you use to light candles and smiles when the candle is lit.
“I have sweet tea, wine, beer, water, milk,” he rattles off all of my drink choices.
“Beer.”
He grins. “Good choice. I’ll be right back.”
“Do you need some help?” I call out to him, craning my neck to see into the kitchen.
“No. I’m all set.” He appears in the doorway with two bottles of beer. He hands me one and sets the other in front of his plate. He dashes back to the kitchen and comes back with a bubbling-hot casserole dish, filled with my favorite meal.
“You made this?” I ask in awe. It smells delicious.
“Yep,” he says proudly.
“Where did you learn how to make it? It smells just like Gram’s.”
“That’s because it’s her recipe. She taught me,” he confesses.
“What? What do you mean she taught you?”
“I might have mentioned a couple of weeks ago when we were talking about you coming home that I was thinking about making you dinner. I told her I wanted to make your favorite, and she offered to help me.”
“Am I living in the twilight zone?” I question.
His head tilts back as his deep rumble of laughter fills the room around us. “No. You’re not living in the twilight zone.” He takes a minute to get his laughter under control before grabbing my plate and adding a huge helping of the creamy alfredo. “Dig in.” He places my plate in front of me and gives himself double what he gave me.
After grabbing my fork, I take a bite and can’t stop the moan that escapes my lips. “Rip.” I sigh. “This is so good. Are you sure Gram didn’t make this?” I ask, going in for another bite.
“All me.” He smiles affectionately. “How is studying going?” he asks.
“Good. My brain is working overtime.” I laugh. “I’ll be glad to never have to pick up another textbook or take another test in my lifetime.”
“I’m sure.” He smiles.
“Your home is beautiful. I can’t believe you did all of this on your own.”
“It kept me busy. Feels like home, though, you know? I love that it has my personal touch, and that’s it on the family farm. I’m close to Mom and Dad, yet still far enough away to have my privacy.”
“You should be proud. You did an amazing job.”
“Thank you.” He takes a drink of beer. “How are you feeling about the test?”
“Terrified,” I confess.
“What?” There’s blatant surprise in his voice.
“I’ve wanted this for so long, and it’s right there within my reach. There’s nothing but this stupid exam in my way.”
“McKenna, you’re brilliant. You’re going to ace this thing and be the best damn lawyer this town has ever seen. No offense to Harold, of course.” He laughs.
“I don’t know about brilliant, but I have put everything I am into this.”
“That’s all that matters. You’re going to do great.” He reaches over and places his hand over mine, giving it a gentle squeeze before picking his fork back up and continuing to eat.