Page 23 of What Started In Deception

“I know.”

She rolled her eyes, unable to stop another smile as he pointed out her predictable schedule again. “I have a couple of quick errands to run. Then I need to go to the gym and get my laps in. I’ll go to the store after that.”

“How about you run your errands and go to the gym, and I can head to the store?”

She paused as she picked up her cheeseburger. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “I already got my workout in, so my day’s pretty clear. Are you into salmon and vegetables?”

“I am.”

“Then I’ll grab us some of that.”

“That would be great. I should be finished right around five.”

“I guess I’ll see you right around five, then.”

She nodded, still unsure about this entire thing. But if she wanted some semblance of control over what happened, she needed to do her part.

Chapter Eight

Ty pulled into Lydia’s driveway at five o’clock on the dot, surprised that he was a little nervous. This was certainly a new experience. Preparing a meal with a beautiful woman wasn’t something that he did.

More often than not, he was tracking down leads or still sitting at his desk at Headquarters when the rest of DC was worrying about dinner. But things had gone well while he and Lydia ate lunch together at the park. He wanted to capitalize on the positive momentum and keep it going.

Getting out, he grabbed the paper bag off the front seat and headed up her walkway, considering it a huge step in the right direction that she was about to welcome him into her home.

She opened the front door before he could knock, dressed in denim shorts and a simple black V-neck T-shirt, sending him a small smile. “Hi.”

He smiled back. “Hey.”

“Come on in,” she said, stepping out of his way, smelling great as usual. Her hair was damp, and her face was makeup-free. She was gorgeous whether she wore the stuff or not.

“Thanks.” He moved into the entryway, taking a moment to toe off his sneakers as Top 40 music played through an excellent speaker system.

“Thanks for grabbing dinner.”

“No problem.”

She took the bag from him, leading the way down the short hallway to a bright and airy open-concept space. “Make yourself at home.”

“I appreciate it,” he said as he studied the kitchen’s white quartz countertops and cabinetry, big island, double ovens, stainless steel appliances, and pretty backsplash.

His gaze moved to the sturdy oak table with seating for six, to the cozy living room with its plush, creamy couches and navy-blue accents, leafy plants, a gorgeous white-brick fireplace, and neutral laminate flooring throughout the large room. Then he noticed the amazing three-season porch off to the right. “This place is great.”

She beamed as she nodded. “I love it. I don’t ever plan on leaving.”

“I can’t blame you.”

She set the bag on the counter. “Um, can I get you something to drink?”

“I wouldn’t mind some water.”

“Sure.” She opened a cupboard, then went to the fridge. “Do you want ice?”

“Nah, that’s okay.”

She pressed the glass against the fridge’s dispenser, then handed it to him. “Here you go.”