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He finished the wrap, collected up the trash, and followed her out of the stall.
She scooped up her journal and backpack.
“Are those your plans for world domination?” he asked.
A pink blush crept up her cheeks. “No. Just notes I write. Things I think of.” She shrugged. “And my bucket list. Things I might someday do.”
“Isn’t a bucket list supposed to be the things you set out to do?”
She smiled. “It can be whatever I want it to be.” She held it open. “Look at this.”
Get back on a horse
Written in her precise and feminine script.
“Yeah—see that?” She pointed to the bold check mark next to it.
“I do see that.” He scanned the unmarked items on her list.
See the ocean. Fly somewhere beautiful. Buy my own place. Visit Yellowstone.
“I did that. I got back on a horse.”
How many hours had he spent working alone? Thinking it was his preference.
His phone buzzed and he read Robin’s message.
Robin
Cinnamon rolls need boxing for special order dinner party. No one else available. Made extra. Help?
He punched back a response.
Grayson
I’ll be there in about sixty.
“Robin says she’s got a few extra cinnamon rolls if she gets help boxing an order up for delivery.” He wiped his hands off on a shop rag. “You game?”
She ran her fingers down the length of her ponytail, twisting the tips of it. “Umm…I haven’t even eaten dinner.”
He wanted her to say yes. Not that it should matter—because they were just friends. “Oh, come on. We can grab dinner on the way. They should be just coming out of the oven. Think about that.” He should stop himself. Just let her go her own way home. Part ways. But with all the craziness of camp, he was longing for time together. Just the two of them. Like it had been last week.
He craved the time with her more than the cinnamon rolls.
She scrunched up her face. “She’s packing up an order this late?”
He waved his phone. “Special order for a dinner party—but she said she’d baked extras.”
“It’s pretty hard to turn down her fresh cinnamon rolls.”
And he couldn’t help himself. “With sugar glaze and double-recipe gooey filling,” he added, like he was hawking them at a Fish Pic booth.
“Okay, I’m convinced.”
And oh, he just couldn’t stop himself. “That trail check for winter damage—do you want to ride it with me tomorrow afternoon? See more of the lake and trails?”
Friends didn’t ask friends’ sisters on dates.
