“Two of your enchilada combos, the works.” I pass my credit card to the cute blond teenager in the window and turn to Erin. “You aren’t going to believe how good the food is.”

“If you say so.” She shoots the truck a dubious look. “But this is one of those ‘I’ll believe it when I see it’ things.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into getting dinner from a truck. There are so many great places to eat in this city and still you chose a truck.”

I glance at Harlan. He’s sitting patiently by Erin’s left leg, his tail sweeping back and forth along the asphalt, his eyes locked on the truck’s ordering window. “Harlan’s excited about getting truck food.”

Erin rolls her eyes. “Harlan also likes to drink out of the toilet. When it comes to his stomach, he’s not nearly as picky as I am.”

“Here you go, sir.” The blonde leans part way out the window and hands me the first box. I take it from her and pass it to Erin before reaching for the second box. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks.” I nod at a picnic table about fifty feet away. “How about you and Harlan head over there and claim that table, while I grab sour cream and salsa?”

“Make sure you get lots of sour cream,” Erin says before turning and sashaying toward the table. Harlan leaps to his feet and trots along beside her, staring at her box with hopeful eyes.

Grinning to myself for no particular reason, I walk to the small table that holds an assortment of condiments. Grabbing one of the recycled plastic containers from a stack, I fill it with salsa and sour cream packets.

“That your girlfriend?”

I turn my head and find myself looking at a guy who’s a few inches shorter then me but weighs about the same. Good looking enough, in a clean cut, white collar sort of way, though it’s a little hard to tell since his baseball cap is pulled down over his brow and he’s wearing large sunglasses. He leans against the side of the food truck and watches me.

He wasn’t here a second ago, I’d swear that. He must have been behind the truck or something.

I follow his gaze to the picnic table where Erin is busy tying the end of Harlan’s leash to one of the table’s legs.

Girlfriend? I mentally chew on the word. I hadn’t really considered what Erin was to me. Girlfriend sounds so, I don’t know, high schoolish, and even though we’re friends, something had shifted between us, grown into something more than friends, at least on my part. At best, I’d say we’re at an undefinable stage.

Undefinable. It pretty much sums up my entire relationship with Erin. Something undefinable about her caught my eye when I first moved into the Dovetail, making me pay more attention to her than any other woman I’d encountered since Maddie’s death. That same undefinable quality led me to texting her, offering to help her with her sex life. And then there was the undefinable something or other thatdrew us together while we were at the state park, something that made it impossible for me to keep my hands off of her sweet body.

“Well?” the guy demands. He picks up a packet of mild salsa and drops it in his pocket. “Is she your girlfriend or not?”

My shoulders tense at the sharpness in his tone. “Yes.” My voice is equally sharp.

He looks over at Erin, but I get the strangest impression that he is trying to hide from her.

“She’s beautiful.” His tone is softer now, almost wistful.

“Yes,” I repeat, unwilling to let my guard down. Between the way he just appeared out of nowhere and how he seems to be actively hiding his face, he’s sending out some pretty strong ‘stay away’ vibes. I just can’t tell if he’s dangerous, crazy, or dangerously crazy.

“Beautiful woman like that, you need to be careful. They can be real heartbreakers.”

Okay. Sounds like he is in the process of getting over a bad breakup. That helps explain his weird behavior, I guess, though it’s not enough for me to relax around him. Even though it’s been a long time since my dating days, I’ll never forget how messed up I was after Maddie’s death. I can sympathize with anyone who’s going through a similar situation.

The guy offers me a tight smile, though behind his tinted glasses, his eyes don’t change expression. “You take care and appreciate your pretty woman while you have her.”

Before I can respond, he turns and walks in the opposite direction of the picnic table where Erin waits for me.  Frowning, I watch him go. I suppose his parting words could be nothing more than the ramblings of the broken hearted, but I got the distinct impression that they were meant for me personally.

Shaking off the faint set of creeps the guy’s conversation left in his wake, I scoop up my container of condiments and make my way to the picnic table.

Erin shoots me a sideways glance as I slide onto the bench seat beside her. She gestures to her open container. “It looks okay.” She doesn’t bother to hide the surprise in her voice.

I pass her a packet of sour cream. “And it’s going to taste even better than it looks. Promise.”

Erin’s dubious expression remains locked in place, but she spreads the sour cream on the entrée and adds some extra spicy salsa and cuts off a tiny corner.

I watch as she slides it into her mouth and swallows.

“So what do you think?”

She nods and swallows. “Okay, you’re right. It’s as good as anything I’ve ever eaten in a good restaurant.”

I cut off a tiny corner of my own enchilada. “That’s because their food is restaurant quality. Some are even connected to the city’s most popular places.”

“How do you know so much about these truck things?” Erin breaks a piece of enchilada off and checks it for onions before tossing it to Harlan.

“I own one.”

I feel her eyes boring into my skin. “What do you mean, you own one?”

“A friend of mine is a chef. He wanted his own place, but the price of commercial real estate was way too much for him to handle. A food truck was the perfect solution. I covered half of his start-up fees. Now I’m a silent partner.”

Erin lays her fork to one side. “I thought you told me you were a mechanic, so you make good money, but I don’t see how that’s enough to own a building like the Dovetail or be involved with at least two different business.”

“My family was poor, the kind of poor that means you never know when or where your next meal is coming. I was determined to never be in that position again, so when I started working, I invested every dime that didn’t go for bills. It turned out that I had a knack for it. Before long I had the capital to start investing in local businesses, like my friend’s food truck and Many Miles Auto Parts.”

“So you’re an investing wizard.”

“I like to think of myself more as having the Midas touch. And not everything works out. I’ve invested in more than my share of flops over the years. I actively seek opportunities that let me play a silent role, where the hard work is someone else’s problem.”

“I can’t imagine having enough money to not have to worry about it.” Erin shovels another bite of enchilada into her mouth. “I’d love to give up having to work for a living.”

“What would you do if you did?”

“Go on a long vacation. Buy a better car. Buy a house.”

“What!” I stare at her in mock horror. “And move out of my apartment building? What could possibly be better than the Dovetail?”

Erin snorts. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty happy with the way things work at the Dovetail, but I’m painfully aware that I won’t have anything to show for all the money I spend on rent.” She tosses Harlan another piece of enchilada. “The main thing I’d do if I didn’t have to worry about money is more work charity work.”

“Just because I have money right now doesn’t mean I don’t worry about it.” I finish the last of my enchilada and reach to play with the ends of Erin’s hair. It seems like it’s been forever since the last time I touched her. “If anything I worry about money more now than I did when I didn’t have any.”

Erin floats a brow. “Really. What about?”

“I constantly worry about what will happen if I lose everything, which is why I pay a fortune to insurance companies. I have to worry that everyone is looking for clever schemes to turn some of my money into their money. I worry it’s changing me for the worse, that I’ll become a greedy, self-entitled bastard who thinks he’s better than everyone else just because I have money to burn.”

“I can’t imagine that happening,” Erin says. I believe her.

I finish the last of my enchilada and shove the empty box aside. Reaching over, I wrap a strand of her silky hair around my index finger.

“Would you really give up your advertising firm if you had enough money?” I can imagine how much work it was to build it up from scratch. I can’t believe it would be easy to walk away from.

Erin eats some more of her enchilada and considers the question. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I can’t imagine not working, and I really do love what I do, but if I had the right resources, I’d definitely restructure the company.”

“Why did you go into advertising?”

“I wanted to help people.” She glances at my expression and grins. “I know, most people don’t consider advertising and marketing the most altruistic of professions, but it really is how I got started. My college roommate was, is, obsessed with non-profits. She’s currently in charge of a women’s shelter that provides all sorts of aid to domestic abuse victims. I loved what she did, and used my natural marketing skills to help promote her efforts. This led to the creation of my marketing firm. I take on lots of good, paying clients, but I also do some pro bono work for non-profits and even businesses that are in the process of handling charity work. It’s my way of giving back to the community.”

And proved that she was a good woman. While there are lots of business that will throw money at a charitable cause, few are willing to donate time and resources. My late wife is the only other person I know who was truly dedicated to improving the lives of others.

I run a finger down her soft cheek. “I wish you and Maddie had met while she was alive. The two of you would have been great friends. You’re as caring and unselfish as she is.”

Even as I say the words, I’m hit with a brilliant flash of insight. Maddy would love this. There’s no way she would have wanted me to stay buried in my apartment for the rest of my life walled off from as much of the world as I could possibly be.

She’d want me to find someone else, and in my heart, I know she would have approved of Erin, that they would have probably become fast friends if they’d met during Maddie’s lifetime. That Erin’s exactly the kind of woman she’d want me to spend the rest of my life with.

Which is good, because I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with Erin and that there’s nothing I’ll be able to do to stop myself from falling all the way.