Page 52 of That Rush

“Confident.”

“I’ve read it twice.”

That gives me a vivid image of her stretched across the hammock with the book open and her thighs bare beneath those shorts.

I collect the bag and paperback, then follow her inside.

The cabin is smaller than I expected and more Paige than anything she shows the town. Two pairs of hiking boots sit beneath a bench by the door. A half-finished puzzle covers one end of the dining table. Her mail and a ceramic bowl of keys claim the other. Books fill the shelves around the stone fireplace, with more stacked beside a wide chair under the front window.

Nothing was arranged for company, and I like that she let me see it anyway.

“This is where Friday keeps defeating me,” I say.

She takes the salad from the bag. “Friday had an established advantage.”

“Home field?”

“Comfort. Silence. No expectations.”

“I brought garlic bread. The competition is improving.”

“That is a strong opening move.”

The kitchen leaves barely enough space for both of us. Paige passes me two mismatched plates, then points toward the silverware drawer. I set the table while she transfers the lasagna into the oven.

“You had food,” I say, spotting fresh pasta and cheese in the open fridge.

“I had ingredients.”

“You were going to cook?”

“I was considering it.”

“You put the pot away when you saw my truck?”

Her eyes narrow. “How do you know I put away a pot?”

“A clean pot is drying beside the sink, and there’s no water in it.”

“You’re annoyingly observant.”

“It’s one of my better qualities.”

“The ranking remains under review.”

The oven timer sounds, and we eat at the crowded table after Paige shifts exactly six puzzle pieces to make room for my plate.

“You could put that away,” I say.

“I know where everything goes right now.”

“The pieces are loose.”

“So is my faith you can leave them alone.”

She tucks one bare foot beneath her thigh and adds red pepper to the lasagna without tasting it first. Away from the library and everyone wanting her attention, she sits crooked in her chair and tears the center from her garlic bread before eating the crust.

“Where’s Josie tonight?” she asks.