“So do you, but that’s what we’re supposed to taste like. We’re from Vermont. It’s in our DNA.”
He smiled down at her. “What’re you doing today?”
“I need to hit the grocery store before dinner at my parents’ house at three.”
“Dinner is at three?”
“Every week. Why?”
“It’s just kind of odd that your dad asked me to stop by there today—around three—to look at some acreage he wants me to clear for him.”
“My dad called you and asked you to come on Sunday at three to look at trees?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I don’t believe it! They’re out of control.”
“Catch me up. Who’s out of control?”
“My dad and my grandfather. They’ve been up to no good for a while now trying to get us all married off by interfering and butting into our lives.”
“How do you mean?”
“Take Will and Cam, for example. They hired her to build the website hoping she’d fall for one of my brothers, and we all know how that worked out. They actually messed with Hannah’s battery so Nolan would have to come to help her. Can you believe that? They sent poor Colton to a sex toy conference in New York so he’d be able to spend more time with Lucy. My grandpa bought the diner to keep Megan in town because Hunter was in love with her.”
Gavin rocked with laughter. “They sent Colton to a sex toy conference? Seriously?”
“Yes! Totally serious! They’re crazy!”
“Um, I hate to point out they’re also crazy successful.”
“And getting more brazen by the minute if they’re inviting you to come to the house on ‘business’ at a time when they know I’ll be there.”
“So you think they know about us then? That something has been brewing?”
“Oh, they know. No doubt about it. They don’t miss a thing. We had no idea how closely they pay attention until recently.”
“What if we beat them at their own game?”
“How do you mean?”
“Invite me to dinner at your folks’ house, Ella.”
She studied him for a long moment before a smile stretched across her face. “Gavin, would you like to come to dinner at the Abbott asylum?”
“I’d love to. I thought you’d never ask.”
CHAPTER 6
Hope lies in dreams, in imagination,
and in the courage of those who dare
to make dreams into reality.
—Jonas Salk
Gavin went with her to the grocery store, where they picked out things they both liked for breakfast, lunch and dinner. More than once Ella wanted to fan her face just from having his extreme hotness close by, debating the merits of ham sandwiches versus turkey and wheat bread versus white. She let him win on the ham when she’d rather have turkey, but she refused to back down on the bread.
“You’re thirty-four years old. There’s no way you should still be eating white bread.”
“Why not? I like it.”
“It’s bad for you. It’s all flour and sugar and nothing much of anything else. You may as well be eating your sandwiches with cookies on either side of them.”
“That actually sounds pretty good.”
“Gavin,” she said, laughing, “I’m serious!”
“Am I allowed to buy cookies? Because I do like my cookies.”
“Only if you get some fruit, too.”
“You’re kinda mean, like my mom was when I lived at home.”
Ella hip-checked him as they turned a corner, nearly sending him into the row of mac ’n’ cheese.
Naturally, he zeroed right in on that. “Oh, I love orange cheese food. Can we get some of that?”
“Keep walking, Guthrie.” Never had grocery shopping ever been this fun or romantic. Not once had she ever gotten giddy over bread or deli meat, but she had never bought enough for two either. This was happening. It was actually happening, and it was all Ella could do not to break out in song right there in the meat aisle, where Gavin was pondering the difference between two kinds of pork tenderloin.
“That one,” Ella said, pointing.