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She half-hoped he would nod and move on. After all, he seemed fairly driven about his job. He probably didn’t take much time either…besides what he’d used to meet her this weekend. The other half of her hoped he wouldn’t put enough thought into her admission to realize what she meant.

Instead of either option, Ryker’s face furrowed with attention. “When was the last time you took a day off instead of cashing out the time?”

“Um… Well. Three years ago, Hannah and I took a girls’ trip to the Florida Keys.”

“Threeyears? Leslie!”

He was actually upset? “It’s a lot of hassle to get time approved. That’s all.”

“If your boss owes it to you, then legally he has to let you take it.”

“He does. As cash. At the end of the year.”

“No,” Ryker said, like an emperor making a decree.

“We have an arrangement. It’s been fine with me all this time.” Mostly fine. “He might not love it if I go back on it now.”

In contrast to his forcefulness a moment before, now Ryker’s whole face scrunched up with the distaste of a young boy biting into a prune. He shook his head. Then his face smoothed again, and he held her gaze with his. Gosh, sometimes this man’s mood was a whole day of Southern weather in a few minutes. Now he was steady, intent.

“Leslie,” he said. “Please. Talk to your boss, take the time, and come see my city.”

Hours later, after a ridiculous game of tag that involved chasing each other across the plateau, dodging boulders and trees at full speed and laughing more than Leslie had laughed in years, Ryker followed her into the diner. She ordered for both of them: one order of eggs benedict, one farmer’s market omelet, a side of hash brown casserole and a side of cheesy grits. For dessert—because of course breakfast should include it too—she ordered the diner’s one-of-a-kind blueberry ricotta pancakes topped with lemon zest and lemon-flavored syrup.

When everything arrived, Ryker’s eyes widened, and the silver glints seemed to throw sparks. His mouth twisted up in the most adorable attempt not to laugh at her.

“Just taste it,” she said.

“Oh, definitely.”

She scrutinized his face as he forked a bite of egg and muffin that dripped hollandaise sauce back onto the plate.

His eyes widened. “Whoa.”

“See?”

“That’s incredible. I never eat eggs.”

“Life-changing, right?”

“Maybe. Yeah.”

Ryker hardly said another word throughout their meal. Leslie gave him more than half, mostly in order to watch him savor it. And savor he did. When they’d eaten the last two bites of dessert pancakes, he leaned back in his chair and appraised her.

“Thank you. You were right.”

“You’re welcome.” The chilly little happiness danced across her shoulders again.

“I eat at the end of the day, after I’ve gotten everything done. That’s when I slake too.”

But that was so…sad. Leslie shook her head. “How do you get anything done without the energy from slaking?”

He shrugged. “We’re energized for twenty-four hours regardless of when we slake.”

“I knowtechnicallywe are, but…” She tried to find the words for what felt so true in her head. “You make it sound like you don’t get to slake until you’ve been productive.”

“Right. Exactly.”

“But, Ryker, that would be like…like a human having to earn water.”