I stared at him, genuinely surprised by the gesture. “You brought me food?”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he said, thrusting the bag at me. “Consider it a peace offering since I was so rude to you this morning.”
I took the bag, our fingers brushing briefly. That simple touch shouldn’t have sent electricity up my arm, but it did. “Oh. So it’s an apology.”
Mike nodded quickly, then glanced past me to where Vivian was taking soil samples near what used to be the barn. He didn’t wait for me to come up with another snarky remark. “Potential buyer?”
“Yeah,” I said, opening the bag to find a bacon sandwich and what looked like homemade cookies. My stomach growled in response. Who made this food? Mike said he didn’t know how to cook. “Some developer. Wants to build vacation homes or some shit.”
Something flashed across Mike’s face. Possibly disappointment or disbelief. But it was gone before I could be sure.
“That’s... good,” he said, not sounding like he meant it. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is,” I said firmly, more to convince myself than him. “The sooner I get rid of this place, the better.”
Mike was quiet for a moment, looking around at the devastation. “You know, there’s history here. Your family’s history.”
“History I’m trying to forget,” I snapped, my appetite suddenly gone. “Look, I appreciate the food, but if you came here to lecture me?—”
“I didn’t,” he cut in, raising his hands in surrender. “That’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why are you here, Pastor?” I challenged, stepping closer to him. Close enough to smell that clean, soapy scent that clung to his skin. “Because it can’t just be to deliver lunch.”
He swallowed hard, his eyes darting to my lips before meeting my gaze again. “I told you… I wanted to apologize. For what I said at the diner. It wasn’t my place.”
“No, it wasn’t,” I agreed, though something in me softened at his admission. “But you weren’t entirely wrong either.”
His eyes widened slightly. “I wasn’t?”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Look, I am an asshole. And I am planning to leave. Neither of those things is changing. But...” I trailed off, not sure what I was trying to say.
“But?” he prompted, those blue eyes searching mine.
Before I could answer, Vivian’s voice cut through the moment. “Mr. Callahan? I think I have everything I need for now.”
I stepped back from Mike, putting a safer distance between us. “Be right there,” I called back, then turned to Mike. “I should go.”
He nodded, looking almost disappointed. “Right. Of course. Your buyer.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of us moved for a long moment, caught in some strange tension that I didn’t understand and definitely didn’t want to examine too closely.
Finally, Mike broke the silence. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it.” He started to turn away, then paused. “See you at home I guess.”
The wordhomehit me harder than I expected. “Yeah. Sure.”
Mike climbed back into the church van, turned the engine over, and with a small wave, he was gone in a cloud of dust. I tossed my bagged lunch into the seat of my truck before heading over to Vivian, trying to figure out why my stomach suddenly felt so…fluttery.
I watched the dust settle from Mike’s departure, feeling strangely hollow as the church van disappeared down the road. What the hell was that about? Why would he drive all the way out here just to bring me lunch and apologize? Nobody did shit like that, especially not for someone like me.
“Mr. Callahan?” Vivian called again, her voice tinged with impatience. “If you have a moment?”
I shook my head, trying to clear it of thoughts about Mike’s blue eyes and the way he lit up when I looked at him. Focus, Cash. This was what I’d been waiting for, someone with deep pockets who could take this property off my hands.
“Coming,” I called back, striding over to where she stood by her SUV, tablet in hand.
“I’ve completed my preliminary assessment,” she said, all business. “The land has potential, though there are some concerns about drainage in the southeastern section. Nothing insurmountable, but something we’ll need to factor into our offer.”
