Free When We Fall by Emily Liebert Page B

in either hand.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Charlie narrowed his grassy green eyes.
    â€œYou’ve never seen this trick?”
    â€œCan’t say that I have. What’s the trick?”
    â€œGood question.” She tried to keep a straight face. “I can’t divulge all of my secrets, but it’s definitely something to do with the lime getting all in there.”
    â€œAh, I see.” He laughed. “Very technical.”
    â€œThe technical-est.” She turned the beers over and passed one to him. “Let me at least give you some lunch.”
    â€œI could be convinced to eat.”
    â€œExcellent!” Allison rubbed her hands together. “We’ve got turkey, bologna, salami, roast beef, and various kinds of cheeses and breads. My mom’s a little neurotic about keeping us well fed.” She went back to the refrigerator, calling over her shoulder, “If you’re really adventurous, I’ve got leftover beef chili and chicken wings from last night.”
    â€œFrom Anthony’s?” His stomach growled on cue.
    â€œNope, Allison’s.” She’d made a big batch of each the day before, putting both her new crockpot and the oven to use for the first time since moving in. There’d been no need to cook until all her mom’s prepared meals had been devoured by one very hungry ten-year-old boy.
    â€œYou cook?” He looked dubious, and something told her that the kitchen was not Charlotte’s realm.
    â€œOnly when my personal chef is off.”
    â€œVery funny.” Charlie raked his fingers through his strawberry blond hair. “Forgive my incredulity, but finding a woman who cooks around here is like expecting it to snow in June. Improbable at best.”
    â€œWell, ordering in every night in Manhattan wasn’t an option. So I guess I learned somewhere along the way. I’m not half bad. I swear!”
    â€œI’ll take your word for it, but only if you join me.”
    Ten minutes later, Allison and Charlie were sitting opposite each other on the couch with vat-sized bowls of chili and two plates of crispy chicken wings on the coffee table. She’d offered to set places for them along the breakfast bar if he preferred, but he’d said the sofa was fine. He’d even kicked off his brown leather Sperry boat shoes.
    â€œDoes this please your gourmet palate?”
    â€œIt’s amazing.” He spoke with his mouth full. “Can’t you tell? I’m practically shoveling it in.” Allison guessed that comfort food was not a staple in the Crane household, given that Charlie was slim and fit and Charlotte had mentioned something in passing about always having to watch her weight and Gia’s.
    â€œGood. They’re Logan’s favorites.”
    â€œWell, don’t let me near the rest of it, then, or there’ll be none left.”
    â€œI can always make more.” Like her mother, Allison took great pleasure in feeding people. Nourishing others nourished her in a way she couldn’t explain.
    â€œSo how is it being back in Wincourt?” Charlie ladled a hearty bite of chili into his mouth. “Are you missing the city?”
    â€œStrangely, not that much. In a way it’s like that was a separate life.” She’d written practically the same thing in her journal the previous evening. “I know that sounds ridiculous, since we’ve only been here for a week and a half.”
    â€œNo, I get it.” He thought for a second. “It must have been hard for you.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œBeing a single mom. Doing everything yourself.” Charlie set his bowl on the coffee table and wiped his mouth with the blue linen napkin in his lap.
    â€œIt wasn’t always a picnic,” she admitted. “Thankfully, Logan was an easy baby.”
    â€œLucky you. Gia was a terror.” He grimaced. “She still is.”
    â€œGirls are typically more