With a furious tug at his cowboy hat, he turned and climbed the steps. The door slammed behind him, rattling in its frame.
Through the wood he heard her shout, “You are the most hardheaded man I have ever met!”
Inside, he shrugged off his damp flannel shirt and hung it on a peg by the door, his hat joining it. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling a long, tired breath and hung his head.
Later, he settled into his recliner in the dim living room, flipping channels as dusk deepened.
A muffled rumble outside announced a vehicle pulling up. He clicked off the TV, lowered the footrest, rose and strode to the kitchen, the floor cool under his socks. A tentative knock. He sighed, opened the door, and found Ryan standing there, twilight outlining her silhouette.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, surprise and caution mingling in his voice.
She held up a white paper bag stamped Clifton Diner in red on it. “Truce?”
He hesitated, then crossed his arms. “Do you think that’s possible?”
Her lips curved. “Maybe. Maybe not, but are you going to turn down a burger from the diner?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Just how do you know about the burgers at the diner?”
“The woman in the cabin next to mine said to try it. She said they had fantastic burgers. Alyssa and I went and had one.” She tapped the bag. “So here I am, offering an olive branch. I don’t want to leave here with us not speaking.” She shifted, her eyes earnest.
He studied her face, then the bag, and nodded. “Come in.”
Inside, she peeled off her flannel shirt, draping it over a chair. “It’s gotten cooler again,” she murmured, breath visible in the hush of the house.
“Sun’s going down,” he replied, leading her toward the living room. “It’ll warm up by midday tomorrow.”
“Where can we eat?”
He motioned to the sofa. “Living room. You get one for yourself?”
She nodded. “I hadn’t eaten dinner, so I headed to the diner, then I decided to bring you one.”
He unwrapped two foil-wrapped burgers; steam curled upward, scented with sizzling beef and toasted buns, then pushed one toward her. His stomach growled. He peeled back the foil on one and looked at her, eyebrows raised. “How did you know my usual?”
Ryan laughed. “I didn’t. I asked Connie if she knew you. She grinned and said, ‘Honey, I know everyone.’ I asked if she knew what you’d want. She said you’d want your usual.” She shrugged, amused. “When I asked how she’d know, she just grinned and said—”
“She knows everyone’s usual.” He bit into the burger, eyes closing as the flavors hit him.
Ryan settled beside him and unwrapped hers. “These are fantastic.” She took a bite.
He leaned back, burger halfway to his lips. “I’ve traveled across the states. Can’t find one near as good. Bet you’ve tried others, too.”
“Yeah,” she agreed around a bite. “And I agree with you, none are as good.”
He blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
Ryan met his gaze steadily. “What do you mean what?”
“Did you actually just agree with me?”
Her lips quirked, eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. Seth lifted his burger and took another hearty bite, then shrugged. “Let’s face it, Ryan, we butt heads.”
“Yes, we do,” she said softly, “but we also have hot sex.”
He choked on his bite, setting the burger down. “Stop. Eat your burger. We’re not talking about sex.”
She nudged him with her shoulder. “Wuss. I could make you.”
