Fallon stood in the opening, looking out at them with a bewildered expression.
“Jack,” he said. He looked at Chloe. “You’re Chloe.”
“And you’re Fallon Jones.” She smiled. “Nice to meet you in person after all we’ve been through together.”
“What are you two doing here?” Fallon asked.
“Honeymoon,” Chloe explained. “We’ve got a room at the inn down the street.” She indicated the bags of groceries. “We heard there’s no decent restaurant open after five thirty, so we picked up a few things. I’m going to cook dinner for all of us.”
Fallon was beyond bewildered now. He looked poleaxed.
“Dinner?” He repeated, as if the word and the concept were new to him. “As in home cooking?”
“Right,” Chloe said. “Do you mind?”
“Uh, no.” Fallon frowned. “No, I don’t mind.”
“Where’s the kitchen?” she prompted.
“It’s sort of attached to my office.” He glanced over his shoulder as though searching for the kitchen.
Jack held up the six-pack in his hand. “Figured you and I could have a couple of beers while Chloe’s fixing dinner.”
Fallon’s expression cleared. He stood back, holding the door open.
“I’d like that,” he said. “I’d like that a lot.”