“Better now,” he says, pulling into his driveway.
I ignore his confession, but my heart is doing this splutter thing in my chest. “What are we having?” I ask as I reach for the door handle.
“Stay there.” He points his index finger at me as he jumps out of the truck and jogs to my door. He offers me his hand and helps me out. Instead of releasing his grip, he laces his fingers through mine as we make our way up the steps of the wraparound porch.
“I love this house. I love this porch.”
He nods. “You’ve always loved wraparound porches.”
I turn to look at him, but his eyes are focused on guiding us into his house. I don’t know how he knows that about me. Well, I mean, he’s known me for years. What’s more unbelievable is that he remembered something that simple about me.
When we reach the kitchen, he turns to look at me, a sheepish smile on his handsome face. “I don’t know if it’s still your favorite, but I made chicken alfredo.”
“Yum. I’m starving,” I admit as my belly growls at the thought of a nice warm plate of chicken alfredo. “And yes, it’s still my favorite.” This, too, is not something I ever expected Rip to remember about me. Sure, we’re friends, but I’m his sister's best friend.
“I made it. Now, come sit.” He gives my hand a small tug and leads me into the dining room. It’s set up with two place settings, fresh flowers, and a candle that’s unlit in the middle.
“Kenna,” he says, his voice husky as he drops my hand and pulls a seat out for me.
I smile at him but don’t reply. I can’t seem to form words. I don’t know what’s happening here.
Am I dreaming?
I watch as he grabs one of those lighters that you use to light candles and smiles when the candle is lit.
“I have sweet tea, wine, beer, water, milk,” he rattles off all of my drink choices.
“Beer.”
He grins. “Good choice. I’ll be right back.”
“Do you need some help?” I call out to him, craning my neck to see into the kitchen.
“No. I’m all set.” He appears in the doorway with two bottles of beer. He hands me one and sets the other in front of his plate. He dashes back to the kitchen and comes back with a bubbling-hot casserole dish, filled with my favorite meal.
“You made this?” I ask in awe. It smells delicious.
“Yep,” he says proudly.
“Where did you learn how to make it? It smells just like Gram’s.”
“That’s because it’s her recipe. She taught me,” he confesses.
“What? What do you mean she taught you?”
“I might have mentioned a couple of weeks ago when we were talking about you coming home that I was thinking about making you dinner. I told her I wanted to make your favorite, and she offered to help me.”
“Am I living in the twilight zone?” I question.
His head tilts back as his deep rumble of laughter fills the room around us. “No. You’re not living in the twilight zone.” He takes a minute to get his laughter under control before grabbing my plate and adding a huge helping of the creamy alfredo. “Dig in.” He places my plate in front of me and gives himself double what he gave me.
After grabbing my fork, I take a bite and can’t stop the moan that escapes my lips. “Rip.” I sigh. “This is so good. Are you sure Gram didn’t make this?” I ask, going in for another bite.
“All me.” He smiles affectionately. “How is studying going?” he asks.
“Good. My brain is working overtime.” I laugh. “I’ll be glad to never have to pick up another textbook or take another test in my lifetime.”
“I’m sure.” He smiles.
“Your home is beautiful. I can’t believe you did all of this on your own.”
“It kept me busy. Feels like home, though, you know? I love that it has my personal touch, and that’s it on the family farm. I’m close to Mom and Dad, yet still far enough away to have my privacy.”
“You should be proud. You did an amazing job.”
“Thank you.” He takes a drink of beer. “How are you feeling about the test?”
“Terrified,” I confess.
“What?” There’s blatant surprise in his voice.
“I’ve wanted this for so long, and it’s right there within my reach. There’s nothing but this stupid exam in my way.”
“McKenna, you’re brilliant. You’re going to ace this thing and be the best damn lawyer this town has ever seen. No offense to Harold, of course.” He laughs.
“I don’t know about brilliant, but I have put everything I am into this.”
“That’s all that matters. You’re going to do great.” He reaches over and places his hand over mine, giving it a gentle squeeze before picking his fork back up and continuing to eat.
“How are things with you? With the farm?” I ask, moving the conversation along. It’s not that I don’t want this sexy man to tell me he thinks I’m brilliant, but I need to steer the conversation to something that will make my heart flutter less. He doesn’t even know how his words affect me.
“The farm is good. Dad and I are still splitting duties. He wants to retire, but I think he’d be bored, and I know he would drive Mom crazy.”
“You’re probably right,” I agree. “Are Laramie and Colby going to build here on the farm too?” I ask him.
“I don’t really know. Hell, I’m not sure they know,” he comments. “Lara has nothing but wedding on the brain.”
“I’m sure they’ll figure it out. And yes, she’s so excited. I’m happy for them.”
“Yeah,” he agrees.
“You said you did all the work yourself. Anything you would change? On the house, I mean?” I’m fumbling for safe conversation topics.
“Nah, I thought long and hard about every room, every step of the renovation.”
“And what if your future wife doesn’t approve?” I don’t know why I ask the question. I guess spending time with him has me wishing that things were different, and that this home might be ours one day. That maybe one day, he might choose me for real.
He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes bore into mine. “As I recall, we’re married,” he says. He’s not teasing. His face is stone-serious.
“Come on now.” I laugh.
“Tell me, McKenna. As my wife, what do you think about living here?” He swallows hard, almost as if he’s afraid of what my answer will be.
“Rip—” I start, but he interrupts me.
“Humor me.”
“Fine.” I heave out a sigh, reaching for my beer and taking a long pull. “If I… if I were your wife, I would love nothing more than to live here. I love this house and everything you’ve done to it. The kitchen is incredible, one I’ve always dreamed of, and you know I love the wraparound porch. However, I’ve always loved this farm. It feels as much like home to me as Gram and Gramps' place.
“I spent a lot of time running these fields with you and your sister, and this place holds special memories for me. Life, before I came here, was grim, and meeting your sister, and by association you, that was one of the best highlights of my childhood.” I clamp my mouth closed. I didn’t mean to say all of that, but once I parted my lips, words just started spewing out of me.