Page 40 of If We Never Met

"You called this a cabin, but it's a lot nicer than that," he commented.

"The exterior is more cabin-like than the interior. That's the beauty of it. You get the charm of a cabin in the woods with all the modern amenities." She pulled out the opener and took it to the table, along with the glasses.

"And this place is for sale?"

"It will be going on the market next month. We're still waiting for a new stove, some lighting fixtures, and a washer and dryer to arrive. The owner is a friend of mine. She and her husband moved to Dallas a couple of weeks ago. They're staying in corporate housing, so they've left all their furniture here until they find a place to buy. In the meantime, I'm taking care of all the little details that need to happen before we list."

While Dante opened the wine, she unloaded the rest of the shopping bag. There was a delicious-smelling tray of enchiladas, a side of guacamole, and a green salad filled with veggies and tortilla strips. A small container of dressing had also been provided. It was like a picnic date. But she really shouldn't start thinking about it like that. She grabbed plates and utensils and then sat down across from Dante.

He handed her a glass of wine. "Are you showing this house to Mark Langley?"

"No. It's too far from the clinic for him. He's interested in one about three blocks from the house I share with my mom. She's very excited about that idea," she added, rolling her eyes.

He gave her a small smile. "Still on the hunt for dirt?"

"I haven't had a lot of time to do that, and after I told you about the fire, I lost some of my drive."

"Why?"

"Saying it out loud made it seem like I was grasping at straws. I'm not someone who usually jumps to conclusions or makes up conspiracy theories, just so you know."

"I didn't have that impression."

"What impression did you have?"

"That you love your mother and that you can't stop worrying about her just because she's feeling better."

"You're right. My mom says I have to step back. I have to let her be better. I have to trust that she is. But I have a difficult time with that. She's not a hundred percent, and this man came out of nowhere."

"Not really nowhere. He has a job history, a personal history. You didn't find any criminal records, did you?"

"I honestly didn't go that far." She opened the foil covering the enchiladas, pleased to see they were still warm. "We should eat before these get cold."

"Sounds good to me. I'm starving."

She filled their plates, then said, "I know we should talk about the pictures. That's why we're here."

"Let's do that after our meal. I don't want to lose my appetite."

She was fine with delaying that conversation. "Okay. How has your week been going?"

"The rehab is more difficult than I imagined, but the clinic is first-rate, and my therapists are very good. I do a variety of exercises to strengthen and increase my range of motion. They also have me working on my total body: walking, running, and swimming."

"That's interesting. Is that just to keep you in overall good shape?"

"The therapists have talked a lot about how everything in the body works together and that concentrating on just one area can sometimes put other muscle groups at risk. Of course, the main focus is the shoulder and the arm."

"Is this the first time in your career you've been injured?"

"Second time. A line drive fractured my left wrist when I was in college. Luckily, it wasn't my throwing hand, but it took me off the mound for a while."

"That sounds like a scary moment. Are you ever afraid of getting hit in the face?"

"I never think about that. I feel confident in my fielding skills." He took a sip of wine. "The shoulder took me by surprise. But it shouldn't have. I think I'd gotten a little lazy in my training. I was letting other things distract me in the off-season. I wasn't in as good of shape as I could have been."

"You're not easy on yourself, are you?"

"I don't think anyone is harder on me than I am on myself," he admitted. "I've always been that way. I have high expectations."