starving.”
“I can take care of that.” He smiled, then busied himself transferring the food from the containers to the plates. In under a minute, a delicious-looking Italian dinner was on the table, and he slipped into the seat across from me. “How did it go today with your dad’s letter?”
I sipped my wine, then set the glass down. “Let’s just say, I’ve found new meaning to the word bittersweet .”
“How so?” He lifted his own glass and leaned back in his chair.
I twirled my fork tines in the angel hair pasta, shaking my head in thought. “My dad died so suddenly, we weren’t able to say good-bye to him.”
His brows came together. “I heard the hot air balloon crashed into power lines. And there were no survivors. That’s awful.”
“Yes.” I nodded, the phantom feelings from that terrible day making my heart squeeze. But talking about it with Nate made it a little easier. With him, I didn’t have to be the strong daughter, the one who watched helplessly while my mom painted one ceramic hot air balloon after another. “My dad loved going up in those hot air balloons. He actually asked for his ashes to be sprinkled over the Sierras from one. My mom is trying to hire someone to do it, but she’s having trouble finding a company who will because of laws and stuff.”
His expression changed for a moment, and he seemed to study the plate in front of him. Then his gaze focused on me again. “What did his letter to you say?”
I swallowed a bite of pasta. “A sweet good-bye. Then, in true Dad fashion, he gave me homework.”
He let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re joking.”
“Oh, no.” I waved a finger, then reached for my wine glass. “He assigned me a Carpe Diem list, and told my mom that I can’t have my inheritance until it’s completed.”
“He wants you to seize the day, huh?” Nate asked, then popped a forkful of pasta into his mouth. He chewed slowly, studying me as I shrugged. He leaned forward, holding out his palm. “Let me see this list.”
I reached into my purse, removed the envelope, and handed it to him.
He pulled out the letter and read silently to himself. Then he cleared his throat. “Rescue a dog. Host a girls’ night. Only date someone who leaves you breathless. Fix your biggest regret.”
Scrunching up my face, I twirled some more pasta onto my fork. “I should probably consider myself lucky there are only four tasks on his list, and that they could all technically take place in the country. But my biggest problem is how quickly I have to complete them.”
His forehead wrinkled. “He’s been gone since you were fourteen. Why are you suddenly in a rush?”
I swallowed my last bite of food, then set my fork down. I wanted to tell Nate about my new dream, but I was afraid of saying it aloud. “I can’t tell you.”
He paused while reaching for the wine bottle. “Why not?”
“It’s a secret.” I waited for him to refill my glass, then I lifted it by the stem, and stood. I nodded my head in the direction of the railing across the terrace, then we strolled over there side by side.
When I stopped at the railing, I stared at the scattered neighborhood lights. Nate came up beside me, his arm nudging mine. Then he leaned close to my ear and whispered, “If you don’t share your secret with me, I’m going to tell you the scariest ghost story of your life.”
His breath tickled the sensitive spot on my neck, and I shivered. “Fine. But you’d have to promise not to tell your dad, or anyone.”
He leaned onto the metal bar of the railing, then tilted his head my way. “I promise.”
A nervous flutter ran through me, and I bit my lip. “I want to buy Bernie’s Bakery. I found the asking price online, and my inheritance money will just cover it.”
“You want to buy the bakery,” he repeated, his expression filled with surprise. “Why don’t you tell my dad you’re interested? I’m sure he’d be willing to take it off the market
“I can take care of that.” He smiled, then busied himself transferring the food from the containers to the plates. In under a minute, a delicious-looking Italian dinner was on the table, and he slipped into the seat across from me. “How did it go today with your dad’s letter?”
I sipped my wine, then set the glass down. “Let’s just say, I’ve found new meaning to the word bittersweet .”
“How so?” He lifted his own glass and leaned back in his chair.
I twirled my fork tines in the angel hair pasta, shaking my head in thought. “My dad died so suddenly, we weren’t able to say good-bye to him.”
His brows came together. “I heard the hot air balloon crashed into power lines. And there were no survivors. That’s awful.”
“Yes.” I nodded, the phantom feelings from that terrible day making my heart squeeze. But talking about it with Nate made it a little easier. With him, I didn’t have to be the strong daughter, the one who watched helplessly while my mom painted one ceramic hot air balloon after another. “My dad loved going up in those hot air balloons. He actually asked for his ashes to be sprinkled over the Sierras from one. My mom is trying to hire someone to do it, but she’s having trouble finding a company who will because of laws and stuff.”
His expression changed for a moment, and he seemed to study the plate in front of him. Then his gaze focused on me again. “What did his letter to you say?”
I swallowed a bite of pasta. “A sweet good-bye. Then, in true Dad fashion, he gave me homework.”
He let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re joking.”
“Oh, no.” I waved a finger, then reached for my wine glass. “He assigned me a Carpe Diem list, and told my mom that I can’t have my inheritance until it’s completed.”
“He wants you to seize the day, huh?” Nate asked, then popped a forkful of pasta into his mouth. He chewed slowly, studying me as I shrugged. He leaned forward, holding out his palm. “Let me see this list.”
I reached into my purse, removed the envelope, and handed it to him.
He pulled out the letter and read silently to himself. Then he cleared his throat. “Rescue a dog. Host a girls’ night. Only date someone who leaves you breathless. Fix your biggest regret.”
Scrunching up my face, I twirled some more pasta onto my fork. “I should probably consider myself lucky there are only four tasks on his list, and that they could all technically take place in the country. But my biggest problem is how quickly I have to complete them.”
His forehead wrinkled. “He’s been gone since you were fourteen. Why are you suddenly in a rush?”
I swallowed my last bite of food, then set my fork down. I wanted to tell Nate about my new dream, but I was afraid of saying it aloud. “I can’t tell you.”
He paused while reaching for the wine bottle. “Why not?”
“It’s a secret.” I waited for him to refill my glass, then I lifted it by the stem, and stood. I nodded my head in the direction of the railing across the terrace, then we strolled over there side by side.
When I stopped at the railing, I stared at the scattered neighborhood lights. Nate came up beside me, his arm nudging mine. Then he leaned close to my ear and whispered, “If you don’t share your secret with me, I’m going to tell you the scariest ghost story of your life.”
His breath tickled the sensitive spot on my neck, and I shivered. “Fine. But you’d have to promise not to tell your dad, or anyone.”
He leaned onto the metal bar of the railing, then tilted his head my way. “I promise.”
A nervous flutter ran through me, and I bit my lip. “I want to buy Bernie’s Bakery. I found the asking price online, and my inheritance money will just cover it.”
“You want to buy the bakery,” he repeated, his expression filled with surprise. “Why don’t you tell my dad you’re interested? I’m sure he’d be willing to take it off the market
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