“I mean, if you’re free,” he quickly added. “I was thinking I could cook. I make a mean brisket.”
For a split second, she considered brushing him off, making an excuse about being busy. But something in his expression—a mix of sincerity and patience—stopped her.
She surprised herself by saying, “Dinner? Yeah, sure. That sounds...nice.”
The words felt foreign on her tongue, and as soon as they were out, she wondered why she hadn’t just stuck to her usual distance.
Jake smiled, a slow, genuine curve of his lips that made her stomach do something odd.
“Great,” he said, pushing off the truck with a satisfied nod. “Around seven?”
“Yeah,” Capri answered, though a wave of uncertainty followed her words. “Seven’s fine.”
“Great!” He gave her his address and she stored it in her phone
He nodded. “See you tonight.”
As Jake walked back to his truck, she stood there, momentarily stunned by her own response. She wasn’t the type to say yes to things like this. For years, she had kept everything neatly compartmentalized—her business, her friendships, and especially anything that came close to resembling a romantic entanglement.
She shook her head as if to clear the thought, then turned back to the truck engine. But as she tried to focus on her work, she found her mind drifting, replaying the way Jake had asked her to dinner and the way she hadn’t hesitated nearly as long as she normally would have. She hadn’t even come up with a reason to say no.
Was it curiosity? Or was it something else?
The wrench in her hand clanged against the metal, pulling her back to reality. “I’m overthinking this,” she muttered to herself. “It’s just dinner.”
But deep down, she wasn’t so sure. Dinner with Jake wasn’t just dinner. He wasn’t some random guy from town. He was someone she worked with closely, someone she was starting to see beyond the professional exchanges. She could already feel the shift happening, the subtle ways he looked at her, the way he listened.
And now, she had agreed to dinner.
Capri frowned, her hands stalling as her mind spun with thoughts she’d rather not entertain. She didn’t do well with plans or commitments—especially when it came to relationships. There were too many variables, too many things that could fall apart. And yet, she’d said yes.
She stepped back from the engine, wiping her hands clean on an old rag. The knot in her stomach told her that tonight wasn’t going to be as simple as dinner and conversation. Jake had expectations, even if he wasn’t saying it outright. There was something there, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d find herself in deeper than she intended.
Capri blew out a breath, tossing the rag aside. She glanced at the truck engine and decided it could wait. What she really needed was a long hike to clear her head.
With a quick grab of her bag, she locked up the shop and headed for the trailhead, hoping the solitude of the woods would quiet the nervous fluttering that had settled uncomfortably in her chest. But even as she started the engine of her red pickup, the invitation to dinner lingered, trailing behind her like a shadow she couldn’t quite outrun.
23
Capri stood in front of Jake’s front door, her hand hovering just inches from the wood. She could hear music faintly playing inside, something bluesy and warm. It struck her as unexpected for a man like Jake—rugged, down-to-earth, with an unpolished edge to him. Taking a deep breath, she knocked twice, wondering for the hundredth time if she should’ve just said she was too busy.
But the door swung open before she could entertain the thought any longer.
“Hey, glad you made it.” Jake greeted her with a warm smile. He was dressed casually, a simple gray Henley that stretched across his broad chest, jeans that looked well-worn from a day of work. His home smelled of roasted garlic and herbs, the kind of scent that felt like comfort wrapped in an embrace.
Capri smiled back, stepping over the threshold. “Yeah, well, figured I should probably eat something that wasn’t takeout for a change.” She tried to sound light, but there was a nervousness in her voice, a tension she couldn’t quite shake.
He led her through a living room that was decorated simply—leather furnishings and uncluttered wood tables—and into the kitchen where a small dining table was set for two. It was cozy and intimate, the dim lighting from above casting a soft glow over the plates.
Once again, Capri considered this might be more than a simple invite to dinner. She quickly pushed the thought aside.
“This looks amazing,” she said, her eyes falling on the roasted brisket, green beans, and mashed potatoes spread across the table. It was hearty, comforting—just like the smell of the house.
Jake chuckled. “Don’t be too impressed. It’s a family recipe, but I’ve made it enough times not to mess it up.”
As they sat down, the clinking of utensils filled the silence. Capri was hyper-aware of everything—the closeness of the table, the way Jake’s eyes lingered on her a little longer than she was used to. She filled her plate, hoping to keep the conversation neutral.
“So,” Jake began, after a few bites, “I was thinking…we should take a trip next weekend. There’s this little shop here in Jackson I’ve been meaning to show you. They’ve got great ideas for outdoor furniture, maybe something we could use to spruce up your porch.”
