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Doing as instructed, I follow her to the car. When the trunk opens, I see a grocery bag full of containers and a twelve pack of beer. Damn, she might be my favorite person.
Chapter 35
Sophia
“If the whole police thing doesn’t work out, you should be a professional griller.”
Gage chuckles as he takes our empty plates and drops them in the sink. Our steaks were grilled to perfection and the potato salad that Joan made was the perfect side. But it was the company that made the meal complete.
“I think they are called grill masters. Do you think I could pull that off?” he asks, turning to face me while drying his hands.
“Hmm...” I tap my chin like I’m deep in thought. “What else can you grill? I figure a master probably has to have a list of specialties.”
“Guess I’ll just have to give up the big dream then. Will you still be my friend?”
Rolling my eyes, I stand and make it across the small kitchenette in only a few steps. With my hand on his chest right above his beating heart, I pat him once. “I guess I’ll keep you. What are the chances you would want to sit outside with me?”
Gage stares at me, his eyes unblinking as his hand lifts to cover mine. My smile drops as seconds pass and he doesn’t speak. Maybe I pushed things too far by touching him. I admit to being rusty when it comes to flirting. In fact, I was never good at that sort of thing.
It’s why I needed to process the almost kiss we almost shared. Did I misinterpret what happened? Was he only feeling sorry for me? Pitying me. Were we on some sort of adrenaline high? All of these questions have been on my mind. What I realized is that none of that matters. A kiss, or almost kiss, doesn’t have to be more than what it is.
“How about a little fire?” he asks.
Smiling at him, I breathe a sigh of relief that I haven’t made a complete fool of myself. “See, those chairs will come in handy.”
“Nah. Bruce has an entire fire pit area with benches. Pack that cooler with some beers and I’ll grab a blanket.”
We’re quiet as we gather our things. It’s another moment of normalcy I want to comment on, but instead I bite my tongue. I’m sure Gage would just love to hear my ramblings of all the everyday things I missed out on.
Once outside, I follow him around the back of the cabin. One of the best things about the Pacific Northwest are the longer days. It’s past eight and still, the sky is light. Not far from where he grilled the steaks is an obvious fire pit. I’m not sure how I didn’t see it the other times I was here but it’s a great setup. A few benches are around the pit for sitting. A pit that has wood piled and ready for lighting.
“Did you...?”
“Looks like we had the same idea.”
Smiling, I set the cooler down next to a bench. When I bend to sit, Gage stops me. “Wait. Let me lay this out.”
After Gage lays out the blanket, I settle into my spot and watch as he goes about lighting the fire. I used to watchSurvivoron and off as a teenager. Starting the fire was always my favorite part of the first few episodes. This is not like that. Instead of scraping rocks to ignite a flame from pieces of tinder Gage has a propane torch.
“Isn’t that cheating?” I tease.
Looking at me while the flame begins to catch on the logs, he winks and says, “Work smarter, not harder.”
Did Gage Castillo just flirt with me? The idea of that being true has my tummy fluttering.
The fire begins to blaze and the orange and yellow flames grow as the logs snap and crackle. Looking to the sky, the stars begin to come into focus. The name of the town makes more sense now that I’m sitting out here. I saw them at The Bluebird but here, nestled between two mountains and sitting by the fire, it’s different.
I take the beer Gage offers as he sits next to me. We both take a sip from our bottles and stare forward at the fire.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier.” He sighs and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Actually, what I’ve really been thinking is why did I spend six months in therapy for you to sum everything up in one conversation.”
“Lucky for you I don’t charge my friends for my great insight. What in particular was the sum?”
Gage clears his throat and says, “Our experiences make us who we are. I don’t know if I want some of my experiences to define me.”
“You don’t have to let them. At least I don’t think you do. But it’s true, Gage. Every experience contributes to who we are. I can only speak for myself but I have been trying to get back to who I was and not accepting all that has happened and how it has contributed to who Iam.”
He lifts his head and looks at me. “You’re an impressive woman, Sophia Brooks.”
