When he turned to look, I held up the paper bag. "Lunch."
His gaze drifted to the bag, but he said nothing.
I moved forward until I was close enough for him to grab it. "I made it myself. I hope that's okay."
Something flickered in his gaze like the news wasn't all bad. "Homemade's fine by me." He set down the wrench, wiped his hands on a rag, and reached toward the bag only to pause in mid-motion. His brow furrowed like he was having second thoughts.
I was pretty sure I knew why.
Call me an idiot, but I couldn't stop myself from teasing him just a little. "Youdolike cranberries, right?"
He froze, eying the bag like it might chew his face off. In an oddly neutral voice, he said, "So…it's a cranberry sandwich?"
I'd been holding it in, but the way he said it made me laugh louder than I should have. "No. But you should see your face."
His mouth twitched, and he snatched the bag from my hand. He opened it and pulled out one of the sandwiches wrapped in cellophane. He lifted it close to his eyes and squinted through the clear wrapping as if searching for worms in an apple.
I hadn't meant to torture him. "Don't worry," I said with a reassuring smile. "There's nothing but tuna and homemade bread." I hesitated. "And mayo. Oh, gosh. Youdolike mayo, right?"
He gave a slow nod. "Mayo's good."
"Because if it isn't, I'll remember to skip it next time. Oh…and I'll also bring chips. I would've brought some today, but I didn't have any. I mean, I just need to hit the store, that's all. And it won'talwaysbe tuna…unless you want it to be tuna?"
Good grief. I was rambling again.
And thinking.
And imagining.
I gave myself a mental kick.Do not think about the Buick.
He grinned. "Hey, I like anything."
I didn't believe that for a second. I cocked an eyebrow. "Anything, huh?"
He looked ready to laugh. "What are you getting at?"
"Nothing. I just saw you picking off the cranberries yesterday, so I wanted to make sure there's nothing else you don't like." I should've stopped there, but the jokester in me couldn't resist asking, "What about raisins? You likethem, right?"
He grinned. "Sure, but only under extreme duress."
I laughed. "What doesthatmean?"
His smile faded. "It means, if you're hungry enough, you'll eat anything." As he said it, a shadow crossed his features, making him look like a man who had learned this the hard way.
A twinge of something – maybe sympathy, maybe guilt – tightened in my chest. The teasing fell away, and I considered what he'd told me yesterday – that he was broke and living in a place that sucked.
I still didn't believe it.
But I wanted to learn more. Suddenly I was wishing that I could pull out my own sandwich and interrogate him over lunch. But that was a luxury I didn't have. One of us had to stay out front, and that person was obviously me.
And besides, the guy deserved some peace while he ate. As he began unwrapping the sandwich, I turned and headed for the front. I was just passing through the doorway when Griff called out, "Hey Maisie."
I turned to look. "Yeah?"
He lifted the sandwich in a mock toast, one bite missing. "Best sandwich I had all day."
I snickered. No doubt, it was the only sandwich he'd had today, so this was hardly a compliment. But I smiled just the same.