I straightened myself up and inhaled a sharp sigh, collecting my wits. “My apologies.”
“Don’t please. Humour is important, andbesides, you have a great laugh.”
“You think so?”Heat blossomed on my cheeks as my smile pushed the apples higher. My laugh had always grated on Charlie’s nerves.
“I do.” There was more sincerity behind his eyes thanI’d seen before. And it was directed at me. A first, for sure. “Care to grab some lunch?”
I nodded and followed his lead. We walked down the main street and turned onto another which was still part of what could be considered downtown Cheshire Bay. Peter’s Pitas was on the right and a jingling of bells overhead announced our arrival.
A silver haired man with a beard that would give Santa Claus a run for his money walked up to the counter.
“Season’s Greetings. What can I getcha?” He washed his hands at the small sink.
“I’ll have a number three,” I said after studying the menu.
So manymouth-watering choices. I was going to have to come back here again before I went home.
“What about you?” I nudged Jesse.
“The number six please. No tomatoes though. I’m allergic.”
“No problem.”He got to work assembling our lunches.
InternallyI smacked my forehead. Allergies. Hadn’t even given that a speck of thought while grocery shopping.
“Do you have any otherfood restrictions?”
Heleaned against the counter. “Just tomatoes.”
A loud sigh rolled outas I shifted my bags into my other hand. “Thank goodness.”
“Why?” His brows pinched together.
“I kind of did something this morning.”
“What? What did you do?” His eyes danced as his gaze jumped around.
Not sure how he would take it, I stepped back a little, putting a smidgen of distance between us. Not that I expected him to take a swing at me or anything. “I bought some groceries for your fridge and pantry. As a thank you for putting me up last night and listening to me go on and on about things.”
“You didn’t need to do that.” But there wasa gratefulness in his tone. One I remembered from my roommates when they said thanks to my dad.
The decoy Santa wiped his hands on his apron and set our food on a tray. “Sixteen-fifty, please.”
Jessereached for his wallet, but I beat him to it and handed my card to the silver-haired man.
“I insist.”
I smiled and slid my card into the machine before I heard another peep. “I insist more.”
“Thanksagain,” Jesse said as he slowly pushed the wallet back into his jeans. “But it should really be me.”
“No, it shouldn’t. I lived with a very Archie Bunker-like man for ten years, and I don’t mind picking up the tab for this.” I grabbed the tray full of food and walked over to an empty table.
Jesse sat across from me and slowly unwrapped his pita.“Although it’s not my place to ask, but I’m dying to know. Based on last night’s stairwell conversation, why doesn’t Lily know?”
I sighed. “Lily and I are complicated.”
“Aren’t all families?” He snickered.