I just know what I like #3
“To the motel?
“Yeah.”
“Text when you get there.”
She slides a napkin toward me with her number already written down. I smile softly, gently folding the napkin up and popping it into my pocket.
“You sure you won’t need me longer?”
“Nah. Kitchen’s closed now, so it’s just drinks, which is manageable.”
“Okay.” I nod goodbye, then I pull my jacket on and step outside.
It’s only just past eight, but the sky’s fully dark with that kind of inky tone that feels deeper because there aren’t many streetlights. My eyes catch on the town’s clock tower glowing in the next block, and I stare at it for a beat before taking a couple steps forward.
Then I hear footsteps behind me. Quick ones.
“Penny!”
I turn to see Elle jogging toward me, Evan a few steps behind her with Gus on the leash.
“I forgot to say goodnight,” she says breathlessly.
“Well, we can’t have that. I would’ve turned into a pumpkin.”
She giggles, then throws her arms around my waist without hesitation. I hug her back, my palms resting gently around her shoulders, as Evan stops just close enough to reach her if needed.
“Goodnight, Penny.” She presses her face into my sweater for a second, and when she pulls back, I notice the flecks of gold in her hair.
“Goodnight, Elle.”
She pulls back with a grin, then turns to grab Gus’s collar and whisper something into his fur.
Evan looks at me, the streetlight catching one side of his face.
“You walking?”
“Yeah, to Maplewood Motel.”
He glances once at the dark stretch of road toward the motel, then back at me.
“We’re headed that way.”
I hesitate for half a second.
“Okay,” I say. “Thank you.”
We fall into step together, the quiet of Maplewood settling around us. Elle wedges herself between us for a few strides, then darts ahead with Gus, narrating something about whether penguins would prefer Maplewood Lake or the town pool.
Evan lets her go just far enough that she feels independent, but not far enough that she isn’t within reach. I shove my hands into my jacket pockets.
The street is mostly empty, and the air smells faintly like damp earth and woodsmoke.
We walk past the hardware store, where the neon ‘CLOSED’ sign buzzes faintly in the window. The pavement narrows near the corner, and Evan shifts to the outside, nudging me inward so he’s closer to the road.
His hand moves automatically to Elle’s shoulder when a car turns at the intersection, steadying her without breaking stride.
“You really don’t have to walk me,” I say, mostly because it feels like I should.
He shrugs. “It’s dark.”
“It’s just past nine.”
“Still dark.”
We cross another street, and he checks both ways even though there’s nothing coming.
“You hate bar work,” he says after a minute.
“I didn’t hate it. I was just… slower than everyone else.”
He glances at me. “You checked everything twice.”
“That’s called attention to detail.”
“It’s also called a line forming.”
“Wow.” I laugh despite myself. “You’re brutal.”
Ahead of us, Elle hops up onto the curb and starts balancing along it, arms out like she’s balancing on an invisible beam.
“Stay on your safe side, bug,” Evan calls mildly.
Elle corrects course immediately, skipping back over to the side farthest from the road. He doesn’t raise his voice at her, and doesn’t hurry her.
I’ve spent years around men who filled spaces loudly and who mistook volume for authority. Evan doesn’t fill space that way.
“You notice a lot,” I say.
“Comes with the job.”
“Firefighting or parenting?”
“Both.”
I chuckle softly, my eyes registering the glow of the motel office appearing a few yards down.
“She likes you,” he says after a moment.
“And I like her.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I glance at him.
“She doesn’t always… attach,” he says. “But she decided about you fast.”
There’s something more there, but I can tell he’s not going to explain, and honestly, that’s fine by me. I’m not about to spill my life story to him, either.
We reach the motel quicker than I expect, and I nod to the dimly lit parking lot.
“This is me,” I say.
Elle runs up and throws her arms around me.
“Goodnight again,” she says, her voice muffled against my sweater.
I hug her back, breathing in shampoo and night air.
“Goodnight, Penguin Princess.”
She steps back, beaming, and looks up at her dad.
“Can Penny come over for Sunday pancakes?”
“Elle,” he says gently.
“What? I’m just asking.”
He rests a hand lightly on her shoulder.
“We’ll see.”
She studies me like I might have a say in the matter.
“I’ll probably be around,” I tell her, trying to remain vague.
“So you promise you can come, then? Please?”
Promise.
Now there’s a word I refuse to use lightly. Promises were easy currency in my old world, thrown around carelessly—and broken just as easily. I hated it, and I learned early not to offer them if I couldn’t back them completely.
My mouth opens, and I glance briefly at Evan.
“I don’t promise stuff unless I mean it,” I say. “But if I tell you I’ll be somewhere, I’ll be there.”
That seems to satisfy Elle at least. She takes Gus’s leash and walks backward toward the sidewalk, giving him a running commentary about penguins eating herring and whether dogs are allowed pancakes.
Evan doesn’t move straight away. The motel office light beams faintly behind me, and a moth taps against the glass.
“You’re good with her,” he says quietly.
I shrug a shoulder, but hold his gaze. “She’s great.”
Elle reaches the edge of the pavement and pivots back toward us. “Daddy!”
“Coming, bug.” He exhales through his nose, then he looks at me again. “We make pancakes on Sundays. Seven-thirty-ish. If you’re around.”
I nod. “I’m usually up pretty early.”
“Okay.” Something shifts in his expression, and he reaches into his jacket pocket to pull out his phone, unlocking it with his thumb. “What’s your number?”
I blink, momentarily caught off guard by how simple he makes it seem.
“Right,” I murmur, suddenly hyper-aware of the warmth rising in my cheeks as I recite my number.
He types it in without looking at me, but I feel my own phone buzz in my pocket a second later.
“That’s me,” he says. “Address is in there.”
“Great,” I murmur. “I’ll be there.”
He nods once, his eyes moving between mine. “Night, Penny.”
“Night.”
Then he turns and falls back into step beside Elle, resting a hand lightly on the top of her head as she talks, guiding her back down the street.
“See?” I hear her say. “I told you she’d wanna come!”
Gus trots at their side, and Elle slips a hand into her dad’s free one without looking.
Evan’s voice is a low mumble to the point I can’t make out what he responds with, but it doesn’t matter.
I stay where I am, watching them move under the streetlights.
At the corner, he adjusts his pace so Elle doesn’t have to rush.
He doesn’t look back, but my phone is still warm in my hand.
I didn’t know Maplewood existed until recently.
Now I know what type of fish penguins like to eat, and I’ve met the kind of man who checks in both directions and walks on the road side to protect those he’s walking with.
And, most importantly, I know where I’m going to be at seven-thirty-ish Sunday morning.