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continued down the street, and Cindy turned to Danny. “So, what are you taking?”
    â€œI’m thinking baked goods.” He glanced at his own watch. “We’ve got a few hours until we need to be at Josh’s. Want to run to the store with me and pick up the supplies to make something?”
    â€œSure, why not?” A single man who knew how to bake? Not common in her experience, but thoughts of him working in the kitchen, maybe with a streak of flour on his cheek, left her feeling a little breathless.
    They went to the freshman parking lot, about three-quarters of a mile past their dorm, and climbed into his dark green pickup truck. Once they were on State Road 3, headed north, Cindy turned toward Danny. “What are you going to make?”
    â€œCookies sound good.” He glanced at her as he stopped at the traffic light by the cemetery.
    â€œWhat kind of cookies?”
    â€œChocolate chip, of course. Is there any other kind?”
    She laughed as the light turned green. “Dozens, but chocolate chip are always good.”
    â€œI knew you’d see it my way.”
    The grocery store parking lot was fairly empty when they arrived, and Danny pulled into a space close to the door. Waves of heat drifted up from the blacktop as they headed for the entrance.
    Cindy breathed a sigh of relief when she passed through the automatic doors and into the cool interior of the store. “Okay, I take back what I said earlier. Ninety and humid still feels terrible.”
    â€œIt’s the humid part that makes it so miserable.” Danny pulled a shopping cart from the long line and pushed it toward the aisles. “But the storms later should help cool it off.”
    â€œWait. It’s supposed to storm, and Josh is having a cookout?”
    â€œYeah, but he’s been planning this longer than we knew about the storms. The worst that can happen is we cook in his kitchen instead of on his grill.”
    Cindy walked beside him toward the baking aisle, mildly surprised when he bypassed the mixes. Despite her earlier imaginings, she hadn’t expected him to know how to make cookies from scratch.
    Danny tossed a couple of packages of chocolate chunks in the seat of the cart. “Walnuts or pecans?”
    â€œThat’s a tough one. Both are good.”
    â€œYou’re right.” He grabbed one package of each kind of chopped nuts and added them to the cart. “Cookies don’t take long to make, so I’ll just make a batch with each kind.”
    â€œWon’t you end up with about a million cookies?” she asked as they moved down the aisle.
    â€œProbably, but like we already discussed, chocolate chip cookies are awesome. With a million cookies, there should be enough for everyone to take some home.”
    She grinned as he picked up a bag of flour. “I like a man who knows how to think ahead.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind.” He stopped and looked around. “Where’s the shortening?”
    Cindy cast a quick glance up and down the aisle. She spotted the familiar blue cans several feet behind them. “Back there.”
    He laughed and walked back to grab a small can of shortening. “So much for thinking ahead.”
    â€œAh, but you just proved you’re not afraid to ask for help if you need it.”
    â€œYeah, that’s a lesson I learned the hard way.” The joviality left his expression, and he gathered the rest of the dry ingredients in silence.
    As she followed him toward the dairy section, she struggled to figure out what had happened. She didn’t think she’d said anything to kill his good mood. They’d both been joking around, but what had caused his sudden shift from upbeat to melancholy?
    She chewed on a thumbnail as she pondered whether she should say something to Danny or just wait for him to speak again. Dropping her hand to her side, she fought off the familiar, if annoying, insecurity