She sighed. “Get out of here. Take that delicious man home and have your way with him.”
“Yes ma’am.” I smiled. “Sweet Teeth tomorrow morning?”
“You know it.”
I texted Brooks that I was ready to leave and then hugged Wyn goodbye.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said to her.
“Me too. I think I get the draw of this place.” She shook her head. “I’ve been here less than eight hours and I’m already having life-changing conversations about perspective.”
“Magic,” I said with a chuckle.
I got up and left the den, dumping my tea and quickly washing out my mug before placing it in the dish drain. The gentle swoosh of the dishwasher could hardly be heard from the den. No doubt, Wyn would sleep well. Here, there would be no child waking up in the middle of the night from a nightmare that she’d have to console because his parents were gone.
I went out onto the porch and slid into my shoes. The crunch of leaves under boots alerted me to Brooks’ arrival. He climbed up the porch steps and waited for me. When I stood, he took my hand and led me to the truck.
He opened the passenger door and helped me up. Before he could close the door, I reached out and gently cradled the back of his neck, my lips searching for his.
His mouth was warm and eager, and the ever-present hum of desire sounded between us.
I had to catch my breath when he pulled away.
He shut the door and then came around to the driver’s side.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For what?” he asked as he started the engine.
“For being you.” I smiled at him in the dark.
He didn’t reply as he backed out of the driveway. It wasn’t until we were off the private road, heading toward town that he spoke.
“What did you guys talk about?” he asked.
“You. Me. Her. Men,” I said.
He paused for a moment. “She’s sad. Really sad.”
“How do you know that?” I asked in shock.
“Watched her during dinner.” He shrugged. “She’s happy for her friends, but sad for herself. She wants what they have.”
“She’s afraid she’ll never get it,” I said. “She claims to want a relationship, a real one. She blames the apps.”
“Apps? What apps?”
“Dating apps. If you swipe right, it means you find the person attractive. If they swipe right on your picture, then you can chat with each other.”
“That sounds . . .”
“Superficial?”
“I was going to say clinical.”
“That’s exactly what it is. I don’t think it’s good for people to have endless options with the idea that there’s someone hotter a swipe away. What’s the incentive to really get to know someone?”
“There isn’t.”
