Page 108 of Matchmaking On The Menu

“For the record,” I say quickly, “she didn’t come to the festival, but even if she did, I was never going to date Peyton.”

Grandma and Dannica exchange a look that immediately makes me nervous.

“You look like you’ve been stopped by airport security with balloons in your gut,” Dannica teases.

I lean back and blow out a breath. “I really don’t want you thinking I’m some kind of player.”

Dannica reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I would never think that about you. Especially since you have a reputation for getting spooked after a first kiss.”

I choke again, this time on my spit. “I…That’s not…You can’t just⁠—”

They start laughing, and Mildred splutters. “God, you really are your mother’s daughter sometimes.”

Dannica bursts out laughing. “It was just too easy.”

I laugh too, relief loosening the knot in my chest as the conversation drifts into easier territory. And the strange thing is… I can’t remember the last time I sat somewhere like this. Somewhere warm. Somewhere lived in. Somewhere people teased each other so naturally it stopped sounding like conversation and started sounding like history.

The diner hums around me. Coffee is poured, plates clatter. Someone laughs too loudly in the next booth.

None of it feels intrusive.

It feels alive.

Dannica’s eyes flick briefly toward the camera bag beside me. “You been shooting today?”

“Not yet.”

“You should.”

“I probably will.”

She tilts her head, studying me in that quiet way she has sometimes that makes me feel more seen than I’m entirely prepared for.

“What?” I ask.

“You seem lighter today.”

The observation catches me off guard. But she’s right. I am lighter today. “I slept well.” I wink.

A slow smile curves her mouth as she blushes.

“Slept well, huh?” Mildred gives me a knowing look. Too knowing.

Heat flashes through me.

“Oh my god, Grandma,” Dannica says.

“What?” Mildred asks innocently. “I’m old, not dead.”

Dannica covers her face with her hands while I fail spectacularly at not laughing. When she takes her hands away, her cheeks are pink.

“You are never allowed to flirt in front of my grandmother again.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You absolutely were.”

Mildred points between us. “I like this one. He blushes.”