Quitting time at last. She wanted to shout for joy. Instead, she shrugged. “I can finish up tomorrow.”
“We can see a few apartments before we go out to dinner.”
The only thing Laurel wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. “Could we wait until Saturday?”
“Sure.” Funny, but he almost sounded disappointed. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Taco salad.”
“I know a Mexican restaurant. I’ll make reservations—”
“I’d rather have the homemade kind, if that’s okay.”
“Uh, sure.” His brows drew together. “Can you explain the difference between a homemade taco salad and a restaurant one?”
“It’s not that different.” Thinking about the ingredients made Laurel hungry. “Same tortilla chips, ground beef, cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes. But the homemade kind tastes better. You can smother the ingredi
