“I’m starving,” I said, grabbing my purse. “Do you care if I pick the place?”

“Not at all.” He reached out, palm up, and my belly fluttered as I placed my hand in his. He must have just showered, because his hair was still damp, and as we walked toward his truck, I realized he smelled really good, too. He was wearing a nice pair of jeans and a button-down shirt under his coat, and I had to admit that I was flattered that he’d spruced up a little for our date, considering that we were just getting breakfast.

“There’s a place that I used to go with my parents years ago that’s really good,” I told him once we were inside the warm cab of his truck. “The owners are in their eighties now, and the wife still cooks, and the husband still greets everyone at the door.”

“That’s awesome,” Alex said, grinning.

“It is,” I agreed. “Their kids are still around, and pretty much all of them work there, but the parents are the heart of the place.”

“That’s how it is with my dad and uncle,” he said, nodding. “I mean, they’re not in their eighties yet, obviously.”

“Your family owns a restaurant?” I asked in surprise. I was a little nervous now. The food where we were going was good, but it wasn’t fancy. If his family was in the food business, he might not be very impressed.

“No,” he said with a little laugh. “Sorry, I should have clarified. My dad and uncle own a logging business. They’ve handed it off to my brother and cousin, but they’re still a huge part of what makes the company what it is. I’m pretty sure that they’ll still be puttering around the office when they’re in their eighties.”

“Logging, huh?” I asked. “Take a right at the stop sign. It’s in the little strip mall with the dollar store.”

“Okay. I know that place.” He rolled to a stop and turned to look at me. “And yeah, logging’s a pretty big business back home.”

“Where are you from?” I asked. I hadn’t even thought about where his family was, even though I should have. I knew he was in the Army, so it made sense that he wasn’t from around here; I just hadn’t really connected the dots.

“I’m from Oregon,” he said. “The land of Christmas trees and weed.”

I let out a surprised laugh. “Well, those are interesting things to be known for.”

“I know, right?” He smiled. “I think we’re the Christmas tree capital of the world or something like that. It’s only recently that people started owning up to the weed part.”

“It’s legal there now, isn’t it?” I asked.