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The server returned, and we ordered.

I answered the usual question about my books, a little embarrassed when Conor downloaded the first book in the series right there at the table.

Put me in front of a crowd of a few hundred people and I was fine talking about my books, my characters, my inspiration, anything, but in a small group where I had to talk about myself, and I was usually terrible at it.

But I was surprised at how much I was enjoying this evening.

I barely knew Ryan, and his friends were strangers, but I immediately felt at home in this group.

They were comfortable with each other in the way only old friends could be, but I didn’t feel excluded at all.

I would have been content to listen to the back and forth of their conversation, taking mental notes of small-town life for my book, but I was always a part of the conversation.

They talked a lot about the upcoming Founders Day.

Ryan, Haider, and Sam all had products to sell.

“And you’re the odd man out,” I said to Conor. “You’re not selling anything.”

He was the odd man out in more ways than one; he towered over his friends. It was easy to imagine him slinging someone over his shoulder and carrying them out of danger.

He grinned and shrugged. “Probably for the best. Customer service is not my strong point.”

I couldn’t imagine it was Ryan’s either, he seemed so shy, but his craftsmanship, I was sure, would do most of the work of selling for him.

I smiled at him over the rim of my beer glass and thought of the delicately carved petals of the roses in his workshop and his large, sure hands.

And yes, I thought of those hands doing other things too.

“Are you going to be here for Founders Day, Adam?” Haider asked me.

“I’m only here for six weeks,” I said. “When is Founders Day?”

“May the tenth,” Haider said. “so you have no excuses for missing it.”

“Oh, I’m definitely coming,” I said, and not just because it would be the perfect opportunity to get even more of a feel for Caldwell Crossing and the surrounding area but because Ryan would be there, surrounded by carved roses and recipe book stands and an entire menagerie of little animals, and seeing more of Ryan? Well, I wasn’t going to say no to that.

“YOUR FRIENDS ARE all nice,” I said as we rattled our way back to the cabin after dinner.

Ryan gave a soft smile. “They’re good guys.”

“They seem like it.” I watched the dark trees slide past my window for a moment and then turned my head to look at Ryan again. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” He slowed for a bend in the road. “Becca said you didn’t want to be disturbed. I figured that writing your book keeps you busy and you don’t want to be bothered.”

I snorted, my face heating. “No, I didn’t want to be disturbed because I’m socially awkward and I hate meeting new people. If you gave me the option, I’d barricade myself in a cave and never come out again.”

“A cave?” His mouth curved into a smile. “Really?”

“As long as it had Wi-Fi and grocery delivery, then yes. I wouldn’t even have to think about it.”

“I get that.”

“You do?”

He dipped his chin in a nod. “Does your cave have a workshop? Because if it does, I’d probably move in with you and never leave either.”

“Oh, you’re inviting yourself into my cave of solitude now?” I teased.

“Sure,” he said. “Mostly because I’m guessing you’d also need someone to chop firewood.”

“You can do that?”

He gave me some serious side-eye.

“Oh, of course you can. You even have the lumberjack uniform.”

“It’s New Hampshire. Everyone wears plaid.”

“I noticed.” I bit my lip and then said, brazenly, “Not everyone can pull it off as well as you can though.”

Ryan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Uh, so when you asked to cook me dinner tonight, you said it wasn’t a date, but you also said, or I thought you were going to say, that you wouldn’t be opposed. Is that right?”

“Yes,” I said, my heartbeat quickening.

“Then if the offer’s still open, I love to have dinner with you, just you, tomorrow at the cabin.”

“I’m so glad that one of us isn’t too awkward to use their words,” I said, and the tension between us burst as we both laughed. “The offer is definitely still open, even though it feels weird because it’s actually your house.”

He shrugged, slowing as we reached the turnoff to the cabin. “The workshop’s fine. I honestly spend most of my time over there anyway.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“No!” Gravel crunched under the tires. “Rebecca’s always making fun of me for working in the middle of the night. This way, it saves me the walk.”

I laughed again. “I don’t know if I believe that. Although, I have to admit, sometimes I work best at night too, when there’s nothing else happening to distract me.”

“That’s exactly it,” Ryan said.

“Except the internet. God, I’ve lost myself down so many rabbit holes on the internet before by getting stuck reading the arguments in the comments, and suddenly hours have passed, and you’ve wasted all that time. Do you do that too?”

He ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Nah.”

“Oh, there aren’t any flame wars in the comments section of your YouTube master woodworkers?”

He shrugged and then shook his head.

“I’m definitely in the wrong job,” I said as we pulled up outside the cabin. “Book people can be wild. I love writing though, even when I hate it. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

“It’s good that you love your job,” he said. “A lot of people can’t say that.”

“I’m very lucky,” I said, and I meant every word. Though at the moment, the luckiest thing about me was that I was sitting in an old truck with Ryan Devlin, and I wondered if he felt the same. Smiling, I opened the door. “See you tomorrow,” I said. “For dinner, if not before.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Good night, Adam.”

“Good night.”

He set off into the darkness through the trees, leaves crunching under his boots, and I went inside the cabin and turned the lights on and sat in the living room and wrote under the supervision of all the little carved creatures on Ryan’s bookshelf.