As Diane approached the front door, she reached for the handle but quickly realized it was locked. "I must've left the keys in the truck," she thought, turning back to where Mark was sitting in the passenger seat.

Mark glanced down at his attire: his black leather jacket, jeans, and the same t-shirt he'd arrived in. Hardly the right outfit for a funeral. He decided to take off his jacket, feeling the fabric slide away from his shoulders. The sunlight caught the contours of his muscles, heightening his awareness of the changes within him.

He raised an eyebrow, noticing his shirt was still dry. "Now that you mention it... I haven't really noticed. After all that running around this morning, I barely even broke a sweat. Is that weird?" He frowned, pondering, Is this normal?

Curious, he touched his biceps and lifted his t-shirt slightly to check his abs. As he marveled at his physique, he remained blissfully unaware of Diane's approach.

Diane rounded the corner, her jaw dropping at the sight of him lifting his shirt, revealing eight perfectly defined abdominal muscles. His wide shoulders and the outline of his muscular chest barely concealed by the fabric left her momentarily speechless. Hot damn, is this what he was hiding under that leather jacket? Her cheeks flushed, feeling almost like she was intruding on a private moment.

Startled, Mark caught sight of her and quickly pulled his shirt down, slipping his jacket back on. "Sorry about that; I was just checking if I smell 'punky' or not," he lied, a rush of embarrassment flooding through him.

Diane, still recovering from the unexpected view, chuckled awkwardly. "It's not a big deal. I have a perfume at home—do you want me to grab it for you? You might want to lose that 'punky' smell, but it's a bit feminine, though."

Mark smiled, his embarrassment easing. "Perfume sounds good. It's okay as long as it smells nice; nothing wrong with that."

"Okay, I'll grab it for you, but can you hand me the keys? They're in the glove box," she said, glancing back at him as she approached the truck.

Mark nodded, reaching into the compartment and pulling out the keys before handing them to her. As he did, he caught a faint murmur from her lips: "Damn, that was hot."

He pretended not to hear while Diane, lost in thought, suddenly exclaimed, her eyes widening, "Oh shoot, I forgot to feed Mittens! It's already noon!" She dashed inside the house, clutching the keys, eager to find her little feline companion.

Mark shrugged and decided to wait outside the truck. He turned his attention to the neatly laid-out vegetables, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the chaos of the day ahead. Tomorrow's funeral, meeting Debbie… Things are about to get complicated.

Moments later, Diane reappeared, dressed casually in fitted jeans and a soft top, her sunhat replaced by a simple headband. She looked more relaxed, but there was a hint of shyness in her eyes.

"Woah, you look so pretty, even in a casual outfit," Mark remarked, genuinely impressed.

Diane laughed lightly. "Come on, Mark, I didn't know you were such a flatterer."

Her expression shifted as she muttered, "I still haven't seen Mittens. Maybe Sister Angelica already fed him since I got home late."

Mark smirked, catching her hint of concern. "Oh, so Sister Angelica is the name of that nun who fed that little rascal, huh? I mean, there might be another nun in that church. Hopefully, that little guy has eaten. Even though he put me in this situation, at least he helped me meet good people. I didn't know everyone here."

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Diane, now determined to ask Sister Angelica about Mittens later, grabbed the keys from her pocket.

With a bright smile, she opened the truck door, gesturing for Mark to hop in. She noticed he looked a bit troubled about heading to Debbie's house. "Trust me, you're not just any stranger. You helped me with deliveries, and you've got that… charm." She winked, her playful demeanor easing the tension.

Mark chuckled, his nerves settling slightly. "Charm, huh? I guess I've never been called that before. Usually, it's just 'that guy' or 'the silent guy'—I've always been more of an introvert, even if I'm starting to look the part now."

She shot him a teasing look as she climbed into the driver's seat. "Well, you're definitely not just 'the silent guy' now. You're more like 'the mysterious, strong stranger' who delivered pizza and helped out a damsel in distress." With a turn of the key, the truck roared to life.

As they drove off, the quaint surroundings of Summerville flashed by—a picturesque blend of vibrant greenery and charming homes. They passed the church next to Diane's house before making a slight turn, heading east past the bank and police station. Mark leaned back in his seat, soaking in the view while his mind raced with thoughts.

"Do you think it's safe for me to stay with you? I mean, we hardly know each other, and I could still be some weirdo." He glanced sideways, catching Diane's eyes for a fleeting moment before she focused back on the road.

"Look, Mark, I get that it seems odd, but I have a good feeling about you. Besides, if you were a weirdo, you wouldn't have gone through all that trouble today." She smiled reassuringly. "And I can handle myself; I've lived alone for a while now."

Mark nodded, appreciating her confidence. "Thanks, Diane. I just… I don't want to bother you. You barely know me."

Diane shrugged, her fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. "Life's about taking chances, right? Plus, it's not like I'll let you just lounge around all week. I've got plenty of work to keep you busy."

"Work? As in, like, actual labor?" Mark raised an eyebrow.

"Absolutely! I could use an extra pair of hands around the farm. You'll be my right-hand man," she said with a wink, sending a thrill through Mark.

"Sounds like a deal. As long as it doesn't involve too many heavy crates," he joked, recalling their earlier deliveries. "But I can handle some gardening or whatever you need."

"Perfect! It'll be like a farm adventure. And who knows? You might even enjoy it." Diane laughed, and Mark found himself laughing along, feeling a budding camaraderie.

As they continued down the road, Diane's expression turned thoughtful. "Just so you know, I'll introduce you to a few of my friends in town. They'll probably be curious about the new guy."

"Great, more chances to embarrass myself," he said, groaning playfully. "I'm not exactly the social butterfly type."

"Don't worry; they'll love you. Plus, I'll be there to back you up," Diane reassured him, her voice warm.

Mark's heart raced as they approached a cozy donut shop beside the police station. "So, is this one of those friend introductions you mentioned?"

Diane nodded, pulling into a parking spot. "Yep! Just a quick stop for coffee and donuts before we head to Debbie's house. She loves donuts, so it'll be nice to bring her some."

As they stepped out of the truck, Mark took a deep breath, feeling both nervous and excited. "Here goes nothing."

Diane smirked, her confidence contagious. "Just be yourself, Mark. That's all you need to do."