Ego boost, indeed.

Every emotion shows on Landon’s face. It always has. He can be playful and arrogant and, well, a typical confident man, but his face doesn’t lie. That’s what drew me to him from the beginning. I was a young girl being raised by elderly parents, my siblings already out of the house, and this boy would smile at me, and I felt like I was at home.

I never saw him as a brother, but I did see him as a protector, a friend, and in my girlish fantasies, my prince charming.

He’s no prince, but he can be charming.

“Wow,” he finally says with a soft smile. “You’re just beautiful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I reply, meaning every word. He’s in black pants and a blue button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His hair is still a bit wet from his shower, curling around his collar.

I could eat him with a spoon.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

I’m too nervous to be hungry. “Starving,” I lie.

“Well, then let’s feed you.” He reaches for my hand, but stops himself. “Oh! These are for you.”

“They’re lovely.” I touch the petals of the yellow blooms and then turn to him. “How did you know they’re my favorite?”

“I have my ways,” he replies with a wink, and holds his hand out for mine. The fact that this is the first time that Landon has ever held my hand is not lost on me. And the sixteen-year-old in me might be squealing right now.

But all I can think is how good his big hand feels wrapped around mine. He leads me to his car and opens the door for me, and we’re off. But rather than driving to a restaurant, Landon pulls into his own driveway.

“Did you forget something?” I ask.

“Nope. This is where we’re going.” He smiles. “Stay. I’m opening your door, since this is an official date and all.”

We’re going to his place. What does this mean? I’m not stupid, and I’m no virgin. That ship sailed many moons ago. So this has seduction scene written all over it. Am I ready for that with Landon?

On the one hand, absolutely. On the other . . . I’m not sure.

“Stop thinking so hard,” Landon says as he helps me out of the car and leads me to the door. “I am not going to try to poison you with my cooking.”

“Thank goodness,” I reply with a laugh. “Mia definitely got all of the cooking skills in your family.”

“I’ve cooked for you before,” he says defensively as he closes the door behind us.

“I remember.” I shudder, teasing him, then glance into the dining room and feel my jaw drop. “Wow.”

Candles are lit and more sunflowers are on the table. Soft music is playing through a speaker on the kitchen counter.

“Dinner is in the oven,” he says. “Have a seat. Would you like some wine? A beer?”

“What’s for dinner?” I ask.

“Burgers.”

“I’ll take the beer.” I sit at the table and watch all six feet of sexy man clumsily pull dinner out of the oven and plate it, then walk toward me. “Is that from Burgerville?”

“Of course. It’s your favorite.”

I blink at the plate before me, then look up at Landon as he sits next to me, rather than across from me. “You remember that?”

“No onions, right? With extra pickles.”

Now I’m hungry. “I haven’t had this in a very long time.” I take a bite and sigh. “So good.”

“I got you a strawberry milkshake too.”

“I’ll have it for dessert.” I grin and sip my beer, immediately relaxing. “Remember that time that you, Mia, and I went to Burgerville and Mia tried to tell the cooks in the back that they were doing it wrong?”

Landon laughs and nods. “She’s always been bossy when it comes to food.”

“She’s just always been bossy.” I munch my fries. “But her heart is in the right place. I love that girl.”

“She loves you too,” Landon says as he reaches over, grips my wrist in his hand, and takes a bite of the fries in my fingers.

“You have fries.”

“Yours taste better.”

“Okay, tell me the truth.”

“Always my goal,” he replies, and sips his beer.

“Are you okay with being home?”

He smiles. “Lucas asked me the same thing today. It was something I had to wrap my head around. It’s not that I hate Portland. My family is here, and this is a fun city. But—”

“But you enjoyed saving the world,” I say.

“I didn’t save the world, but I enjoyed what I did.”

“So how do you feel?” I raise a brow. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“I feel better every day.” He sits back and watches my face. “I feel really good.”

“I’m glad. You were so sad when you got home.” His eyes narrow and he cocks his head to the side. “I saw it. But there’s less sad now. I’m glad.”

“And how are you, Camille?” he asks, still watching me. “We haven’t talked much since you and Brian split.”

“I didn’t think people were supposed to talk about their exes on dates.”

“We’re more than people. Besides, I really want to know.” He gathers our empty plates and sets them in the sink, then lifts his beer. “Shall we sit in the living room?”

“Sure.” I follow him to the couch, toe off my shoes, and sit, my feet pulled up under me. “I’m doing great. Brian and I are still friends. He’s a really great man, and he’ll always be my friend. I just shouldn’t be married to him.”