I offer to go to the store to buy goatcheese.
“It has to be goat cheese,” she says. “Are you familiar withcheeses?”
“I grew up in Idaho,” I say. “If it’s a dairy product, I’ve consumedit.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I need a specific kind of goatcheese.”
“Are we talking feta or chevre?” comes a deep sexy voice behind me, a voice that sends a shiver down my spine and makes my knees week. “Because if you want labneh, I doubt they sell it around here and there isn’t enough time to make ourown.”
She looks over my shoulder at Scott, very serious. “Get me all the feta and chevre you can find in the next half anhour.”
I don’t turn to look at him, because I have butterflies in my tummy and I’m afraid I’ll start crying or blush—oh wait I amblushing.
“I got this,” he says huskily, touching my arm. “You stayhere.”
It has been so long, it seems, since he’s touched me. I feel like I’m thirteen and at my first dance. I run my tongue across the front of my teeth to check to see if I am in fact thirteen and have braces. What is happening to me? I finally turn to facehim.
He smiles at me. “Hey. Good to see you. How areyou?”
“Hi,” I say. He is better looking than I remember, somehow. He has gotten more sun since I last saw him, and he is cool as a cucumber, in that way that has always made me nuts. “I didn’t know you were afoodie.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Duffy.” He smiles and looks away. He blushes—he’s blushing! “How are you? Did I ask you that? Did youanswer?”
“No,” I say, my voice a mouse squeak. “I’m fine. Good.You?”
Heather doesn’t stop julienning zucchini, but she keeps looking back and forth between us, probably wondering if either of us has ever spoken to members of the opposite sexbefore.
“Good, yeah. Well, Ibetter…”
“Okay,yeah.”
“I’ve got a game thing I want to set up for later, maybe you can helpme.”
“Oh yeah, for sure,okay.”
“When I get backthen.”
“Yup. I’ll behere.”
“Good. Anything else anyone wants from thestore?”
“Ice! We need moreice!”
“And one of those cheap coolers, if they sell them.” We’ve run out of room in thefreezer.
“Ice and a cooler. Got it. We’ve got a nearly empty fridge at our house, by the way. If you guys think of anything else, Erin can text me.” Scott starts to turnaway.
“I just,umm…”
“What? You want potato chips?” He turns back and looks at me, expectantly, but clearly he has other things to do and people to talk to, as doI.
“No—I mean yes, always—I just—wanted to...I never said ‘thank you.’ To you. For writing the script with me. It was a big deal and it’s a big deal that it sold, and I’m glad we workedtogether.”
He smiles. “I am too. You’re welcome and thank you to you. Is that it? Because I gotta go buy some cheese. Unless we can use that cheese you just servedup.”
“Go! Get out ofhere!”
Probably five entireminutes pass before I realize I’ve been standing still, staring into space, with a stupid smile on myface.
