like it had been to cooking battle with the food and lost. The ravioli had been an adventure.
She grinned, cocked her hip, and placed a hand on it, in a playful mood today. Maybe it was that softball win hanging on, or the beautiful weather indicative of spring, or the high she got when Ryan paid attention to her. She wasn’t proud of that last part. “This old thing? You must be into tomato.”
“Deeply.” Ryan shrugged. “I think that’s just your passion on display. It’s hot…out today.” Ryan smothered a grin. She was beyond smooth and proud of herself.
Gabriella laughed and sidestepped the insinuation. “My passion on display. Gonna use that.” She dropped her vegetable scraps into the trash and gave her cutting board a good wiping down as Ryan watched through the truck’s service window. She had her food but didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Gabriella didn’t mind.
“Have lunch with me if you haven’t eaten.”
Gabriella paused. Eat with Ryan? It was true that she hadn’t had a moment to grab lunch for herself yet, something she normally did on the fly, and this was an opportune time. No line at the truck and she hadn’t seen any new cars drive onto the property. She met those deep blue eyes and shifted her weight, ignoring their effect. “I guess if we’re fast and eat at the table closest to Jolene.”
“I’m sorry. Jolene? Who is that?” Ryan glanced behind her at the couple eating their lunch. “Do you have an imaginary friend we should talk about? Invite to lunch?”
“Jolene,” Gabriella said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She grinned and smacked the inside of the truck above the window and went about making herself a quick plate with extra ravioli just because. “She’s my girl. My ride or die. My cook or be cooked.”
Ryan relaxed into a grin as Gabriella hopped off the truck, nailing the landing and spilling nothing. “You’ve named your truck. Of course you have.”
“Can you imagine someone not naming their food truck?” She took a seat across from Ryan at one of the tables nearby, as outrage at the notion took firm hold. “You’d have to be a barbarian.”
“That person must be cold and dead inside.” Ryan likely didn’t mean it, but Gabriella appreciated the show of solidarity and the conviction with which she proclaimed it. “Wow. Okay,” Ryan said and took a minute to study her plate, midbite.
Gabriella frowned. Surely, Ryan didn’t hate her food. But her midsection tightened in concern. Did she bite into something hard? Was the ravioli too hot? She’d just fired it. “Is something wrong?”
“What is this?” Ryan asked, gesturing with her fork.
“That’s an arancini ball. Fried risotto. Not a fan?”
Ryan’s standard grin was noticeably absent, which didn’t bode well. “Uh, the opposite. It’s…” She shook her head. “Fantastic.”
Gabriella relaxed. “I have more.”
“No. I need to spend a little time with the rest of this plate first.”
She laughed. “I like your approach. A little bit of everything. But then we know you have game.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t know a good thing when I see it.” She met Gabriella’s gaze, and they stared a moment. Was that a reference to her? Sweet Lord, she had not been prepared for veiled flirting over lunch. What was she supposed to do with the comment? She decided to enjoy it and smile.
They ate in silence, listening to the tunes floating from Jolene. Ryan was seemingly lost in her relationship with the food, until she finally raised her satisfied, gorgeous face to Gabriella. “Does this mean you’re no longer mad at me about the whole column disagreement?”
“Still mad. I just hide it well. You’re no longer bent out of shape about the beating your team took?” She made a point of putting on the most sympathetic face possible.
Ryan outdid her. Her face fell and she looked like a dejected puppy. “Not yet.”
She laughed. “Too soon?”
“Way too soon.”
“Well, you’ll get another crack at it in not too long when our teams meet again. I checked the schedule.”
“Oh, so you were casually wondering when you might see me in my uniform again and had to look it up.”
Gabriella nearly spat out her food at the accuracy of that statement, almost like Ryan had been spying on her. “No,” she sputtered, recovering. “Just making sure my schedule was free for all the runs I plan to score on you.”
“If you’re looking to score…” Ryan’s mouth tugged to the left.
“I’m not,” Gabriella said simply and