“Galveston?” he asked in that amazing voice, still surprising me by keeping our conversation going.

“Yeah. Staying at a beach house and everything. Totally slumming it and having a miserable time, you know?” I gave him a real smile that time.

Rip just raised his brows.

“I promised her I would go visit, and she promised she would come up too... What’s that face for?” I surprised myself by laughing. “I don’t believe it either. I’ll get lucky if she comes once. I’m not that delusional.”

I didn’t imagine the way his cheek twitched again, just a little, just enough to keep the smile on my face.

“I’m stuck making my own lunches from now on. I have nobody to watch scary movies with who’s more dramatic than I am screaming at the scary parts. And my house is empty,” I told him, going on a roll.

“Your lunches?” was what he picked up on.

I wasn’t sure how much he’d had to drink that he was asking me so many questions, but I wasn’t going to complain. “I can’t cook to save my life, boss. I thought everyone knew. Baking is the only thing I can handle.”

“You serious?” he asked in a surprised tone.

I nodded.

“For real?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “I can’t even make rice in an Instant Pot. It’s either way too dry or it’s mush.” Oh. “An Instant Pot is—”

“I know what it is,” he cut me off.

It was my turn to make a face, but mine was an impressed one. He knew what an Instant Pot was but not a rom-com. Okay. “Sorry.”

He didn’t react to me trying to tease him, instead he asked, “You can’t even make rice in that?”

“Nope.”

“You know there’s instructions online.”

Was he messing with me now? I couldn’t help but watch him a little. How much had he drunk already? “Yeah, I know.”

“And you still screw it up?”

I blinked, soaking up Chatty Cathy over here like a plant that hadn’t seen the sun in too long. “I wouldn’t say I screw it up. It’s more like… you either need to chew a little more or a little less.”

It was his turn to blink.

“It’s a surprise. I like to keep people on their toes.”

If I hadn’t been guessing that he’d had a couple drinks before, what he did next would have confirmed it.

His left cheek twitched. Then his right one did too, and in the single blink of an eye, Lucas Ripley was smiling at me.

Straight white teeth. That not-thin but not-full mouth dark pink and pulled up at the edges. He even had a dimple.

Rip had a freaking dimple.

And I wanted to touch it to make sure it was real.

I couldn’t help but think it was just about the cutest thing I had ever seen, even though I had zero business thinking anything along those lines. But I was smart enough to know that I couldn’t say a single word to mention it; otherwise, it might never come out again.

What I did trust myself to do was gulp down half of my Sprite before saying, “You can make rice, I’m guessing?” If he wanted to talk, we could talk. I was good at talking.

“Uh-huh,” he replied, sounding almost cocky about it.

All I could get myself to do in response was grin at him, and for another five seconds, his dimple—and his smile—responded to me.

“Big plans for the rest of the weekend?”

He gave me that smug face. “No” was his short answer, which could have meant a thousand different things. “You think of a new favor yet?”

We were back to this.

Well, if he wanted to play this game, we could play it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The smug face turned into my favorite smart-ass one. “Luna.”

I smiled. “Ripley.”

“You think of one or not?” he grumbled but not in a mean way.

I scrunched up my nose at him and leaned forward a little as I lowered my voice and said, “For the thousandth time, boss, you really don’t owe me anything.”

“I really do,” he quipped back immediately, lowering his voice too.

“No, you don’t. We’re even.”

That dimple popped up and disappeared again so fast I thought it might have just been wishful thinking that I’d seen it again. “We’re not even until I do another favor for you,” he tried to claim.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You don’t have to do another favor for me. You didn’t have to in the first place.”

He blinked. “Think of a favor, Luna.”

I blinked back. “You think of a favor.”

He stared, and I definitely wasn’t imagining that his voice dropped into this thing that was too low to be called a whisper. “You want me to think of one?”

I ignored the way that went straight to my chest and lifted a shoulder, keeping it calm, keeping it cool. “Sure. Why not?”

That got me no response. Just like I thought. It’s not that easy, is it, Rip? I thought to myself before giving him a break.

“Do you know how to do tile work?”

“Tile work?” he asked slowly.

I nodded. “Yeah. How about you help me tile my bathroom?”

“Tile your bathroom?” he echoed, fueling up my inner pest.

“I’m just throwing out ideas since you’re being all desperate and needy about wanting to get this favor over with.”

If Rip could have sputtered, I was pretty sure he would have right then, because his expression…. “You say I’m being desperate and needy?”

Okay, so maybe I just wanted to screw with him a little. So I kept my mouth shut and took a small sip of my Sprite before adding, “It’s okay if you don’t know how to do

tile. Not many people can tear a car apart and build it back together like you can.”

The silence yawned between us for a moment and then three before… “How much have you had to drink?”

I burst out laughing. “It’s Sprite, boss. I don’t drink that much, and especially not in front of most people.”

Those eyebrows went up. “You don’t?”

He was still asking me questions. Okay. “Drink?”

Rip dipped his chin.

“One or two is okay, but even that’s rare. But get drunk? No. I’ve done it… twice, and it was for special occasions,” I informed him.

His finger drew a circle around the rim of his glass as he asked, “What were they?”

Was Rip trying to get to know me? I wanted to be excited about it, but… well… I wasn’t sure why he was doing it. But it was fine, I wouldn’t overthink it. “My twenty-first birthday and my best friend’s grandpa’s seventieth birthday.”

Rip looked at me. “Huh.”

Plastering a smile on my face, I went with changing the subject again. “But seriously, Rip, everything else aside, I want you to know I’m being serious about this favor thing. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to do anything. Going with me to the funeral was more than enough.”

“I don’t care what you think. I still owe you.”

I crossed my eyes and didn’t bother holding back a sigh. I didn’t even know why I was bothering insisting. Like he was going to change his mind. I could only wish.

And really, why was he being so freaking talkative? I liked it. I liked it a lot, but it didn’t make any sense.

Just as I was opening my mouth to tell him fine, someone called out “Luna!” right behind me.

I barely managed to glance over my shoulder when a male body stopped directly beside me. Tipping my head back, I found a familiar face grinning down at me.

“How’s it going?” the late twenty-something-year-old asked.

“Hey, I’m good. How are you?” I asked the guy back.

“Good, good. Owen invited us to come by.”

I smiled at him.

“I wanted to tell you. I did that rice thing you said to do with my phone last time I saw you, and it worked like a charm. Let me know if you want a drink. I got you,” he offered, sliding Rip a quick glance before dropping his hand off me. “Least I can do.”