Carlie lets out a laugh, nodding. “Oh, you have no idea. She’s like the neighborhood watch, but for my love life. She probably called every one of her friends the second we left.”
I chuckle, imagining the scene. “She seemed to approve, though. Gave us a thumbs-up and everything.”
Carlie rolls her eyes playfully. “Yeah, her approval ratings are notoriously easy to win. Just be hunky and not a serial killer, and you’re golden.”
“Good to know,” I say, feeling a sense of warmth spread through me. “So, does that mean she thinks I tick both of those boxes?”
She huffs a laugh. “Oh, yeah.”
“Really?” I say, sneaking another glance in her direction. “And what about you?”
Carlie’s hesitant as she turns to face me. “Well, the jury’s still out on the serial killer part.” She narrows her gaze and continues, “But as for the hunky ... let’s just say I wouldn’t argue with Grandma’s assessment.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should,” she says, her eyes meeting mine for a moment before she looks back at the road, a playful smirk on her lips. “But I reserve the right to make my own final judgment.”
“Fair enough,” I reply, focusing back on the drive. The atmosphere in the car is light and comfortable, somehow the perfect blend between playful teasing and genuine connection.
Hunky.
I can’t fight the grin that floats to my face.
I’ve been told I’m good-looking over the years, but for some reason, hearing it fall from her lips hits me a little different.
“But if you think Grandma was a menace tonight, just wait until she starts asking about our wedding plans and future grandkids when you drop me off,” she says, her tone painted with humor.
I let out a surprised laugh, glancing at her. “Is that a common topic of conversation?”
“Only every other day,” she replies with mock seriousness. “I think she’s got a bet going with her bingo friends about when I’ll finally settle down. But don’t panic. No need to rush for bingo’s sake.”
“Rushing for bingo’s sake,” I muse aloud, chuckling. “Now, there’s a new one for the books.”
Carlie’s smile is radiant, lighting up her whole face. “Just wait, it gets better. She’s even got names picked out for the grandkids.”
“That’s ... pretty forward-thinking of her.” I chuckle at the thought.
“Oh, you have no idea,” Carlie says, her laughter subsiding into a soft smile.
The conversation turns to other topics, and we share stories about our families, finding common ground in the quirks and endearing traits of our relatives.
It’s moments like these, simple and honest, that make me feel like there could be something so much deeper between us.
Before too long, we pull into the parking lot of the New Scenic Café. The quaint, rustic appearance of the place, with its warm lighting spilling out onto the patio, creates a cozy, inviting atmosphere. The ambiance promises an intimate evening, and I can sense Carlie’s excitement mixed with a touch of nervous anticipation as I park. Or maybe that’s my own.
After I shut off the car, I hurry to open her door, and Carlie greets me with a smile that’s both thankful and slightly sheepish.
“Chivalry isn’t dead, I see,” she quips, her tone light and playful.
“I try my best,” I reply, offering her my hand to help her out. She takes it, but not without a small grimace. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just still feeling the aftermath of Jillian’s boot camp,” she says with a wry grin. “I’m pretty sure she was secretly training me for the Hunger Games.”
I chuckle at her remark. So many book references. “Well, I’d say‘may the odds be ever in your favor,’but I’m not sure it will help.”
“Don’t I know it,” Carlie laughs, wrapping her hand around my bicep as we walk toward the restaurant.
I can’t help but notice Carlie’s slight hobble. It’s endearing in a way, seeing her push through the discomfort.