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“Um, it’s been a while since I’ve had a hot meal.”
Fuck. “How long?”
She busies herself by uncapping the container. Tendrils of steam curl into the air, and she lowers her face into them. “About two weeks if you don’t count fast food joints. I have to say, a greasy burger is nothing compared to this.”
I swallow past a lump in my throat. “That’s broccoli cheddar. I have a turkey wild rice if you prefer…”
“Oh, no. This looks divine. Thank you.” Her breathy appreciation isn’t necessary. It’s just a fucking cup of soup.
“Here, I got this too.” I snag the tub of chicken pieces from my dash and settle it on the center console.
She immediately reaches in and pulls out a drumstick. “Be careful. You’re spoiling me, Rhett.” She sinks her teeth into the drumstick and groans. “Seriously, though. I need to repay you. I start work tomorrow, and I can get you cash.”
Her words fill me with irritation. “It’s my treat, Rosie.”
Her shades clatter against the dash when she tosses them there. “Whatever. The next one’s on me then.”
I give a one-shoulder shrug. The next time will be mine as well. And the time after that. One thing Nora couldn’t kill is my chivalry.
“What job did you find?” I circle back to her previous comment.
Her eyes alight with excitement for the first time since we met. The stunning hazel shade appears nearly olive green in the waning sunlight.
“I’m starting a cleaning business. I had a side gig back home for extra cash. The startup is fairly light, and I managed to find my first client today while picking up supplies.”
I pop the top off my Styrofoam cup and drink the warm soup straight without a spoon. “I have some friends in town I could spread the word to.”
Her direct smile up close punches me in the gut.
“That’d be great. I can give you my phone number in case anyone is interested.” Leaning back in her seat, she blows a bit of steam from her spoon before savoring her first bite. “This is really good.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, the word sticking in my throat as I watch her enjoy a fucking cup of soup.
“What is it you do?” Her question seamlessly resumes the conversation.
“I run my grandfather’s extermination company. My grandparents adopted me as an infant, and when he was ready to retire, I took over the family business. It doesn’t sound like much, but we service three counties. I owe him a lot.”
“I think a stable career sounds impressive.”
An awkwardness settles over me for divulging too much. “What brings you to Arrow Creek?”
The stiffness of her neck reveals I struck something personal, but she recovers quickly. She savors one last bite of soup in her mouth before replacing the lid and setting the disposable cup on the dash. I don’t know what I expected of her expression, but when she faces me with red lining her eyes, I know it wasn’t that.
Sorrow bleeds from every inch, every crease of worry. “I made a mistake, and I lost everything.”
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, at a loss for what else to say. It doesn’t seem like my place to pry when we’re basically strangers.
She shrugs. “I know better for next time.” The heaviness shrouds the vehicle in regret, and I sense she’s about to flee.
“It makes you human, not a monster.”
“What?”
“Mistakes. Regret. It doesn’t make you a monster, no matter who you hurt or how badly you hurt them. It makes you human.”
“I think the person I hurt the most is myself.”
“Do you want me to make you feel better?”
