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  8

  The drive-thru line at Starbucks was six cars long when Bree got there. Things were a little calmer at work, and she and Aaron had stayed late last night, so Sallie wouldn’t get too bent out of shape if she was a few minutes late getting in to work.

  Bree had been trying to avoid Sallie as much as possible since her friendship with Aaron had turned into something more.

  She edged her way forward in the line, put the car in park, and pulled her phone from its holder on the dashboard. Dialing Aaron, it struck her that they’d already found a “routine” with each other. He answered on the second ring.

  “Hey, I’m in line at Starbucks. Do you want me to bring you a caramel Frappuccino?” She even knew his favorite drink. This must be getting serious.

  “That’d be awesome,” he said. “Want me to tell Sallie you’re on your way?”

  “Why? Is she asking about me?”

  “No. But you know she soon will be. Unless you’re next in line.”

  “No, I’m”—she did a quick count—“five cars back. It’ll be a few.”

  “I’ll let her know. You want to grab supper after work?”

  She hesitated. “Um . . . It’s Tuesday, Aaron.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot.”

  “I’ve only told you about eight times.” It was only a slight exaggeration. She tried to keep her voice light, but had he seriously not heard her tell him all those times?

  “Couldn’t you skip? Just this once?”

  He knew she always picked CeeCee up. Why was he pushing her? “How about tomorrow night?”

  “Never mind. I get it.” But he sounded frustrated. Or even angry.

  “Thanks.” She put the car in gear and pulled forward a car length. “Only three cars ahead of me now. I’ll be there shortly.” She despised the unnatural brightness in her voice. Along with feeling like she had to come up with an excuse he’d accept.

  He hung up without saying good-bye.

  This was the second time he’d tried to get her to go out on a Tuesday night. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Maybe he really had forgotten. But as many times as she’d reminded him, it felt more like he was testing her.

  She paid for their drinks and hurried back to the office. Sallie’s car still wasn’t in front of the building, so it would just be her and Aaron—and Wendy at the front desk, of course. Good. If he said anything about Tuesday, she’d let him have it.

  When she got inside, she heard Aaron talking on the phone. She wiped the condensation from his Frappuccino with a tissue and went to place it on his desk.

  He looked up from his cubicle and mouthed a “thank you” before turning back to the logistics timeline he was discussing with the client.

  She was grateful and a little disappointed at the same time. It would be nice to get this conversation over with. She didn’t want to make “acceptance of my place in the Whitman family” a prerequisite for Aaron or any future boyfriend, but Aaron’s reaction would tell her a lot about where he stood on the topic.

  She started to back out of his office, but before she turned, he waved at her, then motioned her to sit in the chair opposite his desk.

  He made a lame excuse to the client and hung up. He opened his top desk drawer and slid a five-dollar bill across to her. “Hey, thanks for this.” Taking a long draw from the thick straw, he eyed her. “You said you didn’t want to do Tuesday. Does Wednesday work for you?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want to. I said I already have a standing obligation.”

  He hesitated a second too long. “Yeah, about that. Is that something that won’t ever go away?”

  “If you mean am I willing to cancel my Tuesday night dinners with Tim’s family, then no, I’m not. Not yet anyway.” Not ever. “I pick up Tim’s— I pick up CeeCee, his grandmother, every week, and I don’t want to inconvenience anyone else. It’s right on my way . . .” She let the sentence trail, not fond of feeling like she had to explain herself.

  Aaron leaned forward. “I like you, Bree. A lot. I think we’ve got a good thing going. But we have enough problems with the whole nepotism thing and—”

  “Wait a minute.” She tilted her head, frowning. “Nepotism? I’m not related to you.”

  “Okay, Miss Smarty-pants, maybe I used the wrong word. Whatever it’s called when you can’t date someone from your own office.”

  “I believe Sallie would reference the non-fraternization policy. Which is nonexistent, by the way.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever. That woman makes up policies whenever it suits her. But like I’ve been trying to say, we have enough to deal with given that, but if we also have to count out certain days of the week and . . . probably holidays? I assume you spend holidays with Tim’s family, too?”

  “Sometimes. Usually,” she admitted, hating that it felt like a confession. “You know, Aaron, I really don’t think it’s fair that you even ask me to give up my time with the Whitmans.”

  He looked at her hard, then shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you?”

  “What?”

  “How would you feel if the tables were turned?”

  “What do you mean?” She was buying time. She knew what he meant.

  “If I’d been married before and I still spent time with my wife’s family every week, how would that make you feel?”

  She thought for a minute, trying to be honest with herself so she could be honest with him. “I think I’d understand. I know I wouldn’t ask you to give up a part of your life that was important to you.” She felt her defenses rising.

  But he had a point. If the tables were turned, she would feel like he was leaving her out of a significant part of his life. She might even feel like he was ashamed of her, or hiding something from his wife’s—well, this imaginary—family. Like you’re doing with the Whitmans. “Would it make you feel better if I invited you to go with me? To the Whitmans’?” She regretted the words the minute they were out. She wasn’t ready for this.

  But he shook his head adamantly. “No. That would not make me feel better. Most couples have enough trouble keeping up with two families, let alone three! Besides, how could they not compare me to their hero son? And I’d come up wanting big-time.”

  “They wouldn’t do that, Aaron.” But even as she said it, she knew they would. How could they help it? They absolutely would. So where did that leave her? What was she supposed to do?

  “If I’m going to be a part of your life, Bree, then I don’t like you having these . . . boxes I’m not allowed into.”

  She hadn’t seen that coming. “Aaron, I’m not sure I’m ready for—”

  “To let me into your life at all? Or just with the Whitmans?”

  “But you don’t want to be let into that ‘box.’ ” She chalked quotation marks in the air. “That’s what I’m hearing you say.”

  He stared past her for a moment. “I guess I don’t want you to have that box, period. I want you to be willing to get rid of it to make room for me in your life.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t ask me to abandon Tim’s family, would you?”

  He cocked his head. “You make it sound like they’re totally dependent on you.”

  “That’s not what I meant at all.”

  “What do you mean, Bree? Maybe you need to answer that question before you’re ready to have a relationship—with me or with anybody else.” He held her gaze as he pushed his chair back and rose. “I need to go meet a client.”

  She watched him walk through the office. She raised a hand to her cheek and felt the heat emanating from her skin. He may as well have slapped her.

  Maybe she wasn’t ready for this after all. When she’d first been able to even bring herself to think about a time when she might fall in love again and remarry, she’d fantasized that any man she could love would have to love Tim’s family. Would have to accept them and understand that they were and always would be a part of her life. She’d forgotten about that in the—wa
s it excitement?—of falling for Aaron. But maybe this was God’s way of showing her she simply wasn’t ready to have someone new in her life. Or maybe it’s His way of saying, it’s time to move on. Away from the Whitmans.

  She raked her fingers through her hair. Why did this have to be so confusing?

  But maybe it didn’t have to be. Maybe Tim’s family would be just fine with the idea of her dating again. She felt sure they’d like Aaron if they ever met him. Maybe even be excited for her to have found a friend.

  Or maybe it would crush them and make them feel like she’d betrayed them all.

  9

  Bree was changing clothes after work, getting ready to go pick up CeeCee on her way out to the inn, when her phone rang—the annoying, comical ship’s alarm ring she’d assigned Aaron.

  She’d had a rock in the pit of her stomach ever since he’d stormed out of the office this afternoon. Maybe stormed was too strong a word, but it definitely qualified as their first big fight. And she’d felt like a lost puppy ever since.

  She grabbed the remote and muted the volume on the TV. “Hello?”

  “Hi. It’s me.”

  “I know.” She smiled into the phone. “Remember? Your special ringtone . . .” She hoped he was in the mood to be teased.

  But he ignored her joke. “Listen, Bree. I’m sorry I got all bent out of shape this afternoon. Here’s the thing. I like you. A lot. If . . . if this is that important to you, I’ll go. I’ll meet Tim’s family, and if they hate me, they hate me.”

  “They won’t hate you, Aaron.” She said it so convincingly, but she was reeling a little bit that they were even talking about the possibility of introducing Aaron to Grant and Audrey—let alone the entire Whitman family.

  She hadn’t really expected him to capitulate so easily, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for this. It felt too soon.

  But she could hardly back out now. Not after making such a big deal about the whole thing. And not after Aaron was being so sweet about things. She couldn’t believe he was actually willing to go with her, to meet Tim’s family.

  The question was: were they ready to meet Aaron?

  * * *

  Gripping the sides of the seat in Aaron’s car, Bree felt slightly nauseated as they wound over the curvy road to the inn. The woods on either side were dense with summer growth and the humidity was cloying. She wasn’t sure she could do this.

  “You okay?” Aaron looked over at her from behind the steering wheel, looking puzzled.

  “I’m a little nervous,” she admitted.

  He grinned. “Too late now. We’re almost there.”

  “Seriously, Aaron. Stop the car.”

  He looked askance at her. “You mean it?” He slowed down. “They’re expecting us, right?”

  “Sort of.” She couldn’t hide a sheepish grimace. “I told them I was bringing a friend from work.”

  She thought he’d laugh, that it would break the ice. But instead his jaw tensed, and he looked straight ahead at the highway. They were too close to CeeCee’s to get into an argument, so she kept quiet, only speaking to direct him to CeeCee’s house.

  She had Aaron stay in the car while she ran in to get CeeCee, already nervous about how that introduction was going to go.

  The minute she got out to the porch, CeeCee craned her neck, checking out Aaron’s car. “Did you get a new vehicle?”

  “No, it belongs to a friend from work.”

  CeeCee ducked, trying to peer through the passenger window. “Is she in there?”

  Bree giggled. “Aaron. My friend’s name is Aaron. And yes, Aaron is driving us tonight.”

  “Well, that’s nice of her.”

  “No . . . Aaron.” She spelled his name. “He’s a guy, CeeCee.”

  Tim’s grandmother looked up at her with a suspicious glare. “A boy?”

  She smiled. “He’s twenty-six.” Probably a twenty-six-year-old man did seem like a boy to CeeCee. Bree couldn’t deny that it bothered her a little that Aaron was two years younger than her. It might be no big deal now, but it wouldn’t be fun when she turned thirty. Or forty. “Aaron is just a friend . . . from work. Would you like to sit in the front seat?”

  “Good heaven’s no. I don’t even know this person. Just toss me in the back. I’ll be fine.”

  Oh dear. CeeCee was in a feisty mood. “Here, let me help you with the seat belt.” She opened the door and waited for CeeCee to get situated before making introductions. “Aaron, this is CeeCee. Cecelia Whitman,” she corrected.

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Whitman.”

  Good. At least Aaron was on his best behavior.

  “Hello, young man.” She reached over the front seat with an outstretched hand. “I’m Timothy’s grandmother, in case Bree didn’t say.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He contorted his lanky frame in the seat and shook her hand. “She did tell me that. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Oh? Well . . . that’s disturbing.”

  Bree chuckled and carefully closed CeeCee’s door before climbing into the front seat beside Aaron. Turning in her seat, she glanced back. “All good things, CeeCee. I promise.”

  “She’s right,” Aaron said. “All good. Bree thinks the world of you.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  Bree couldn’t tell if CeeCee was being condescending or just being her ornery self. Thank goodness it was only fifteen minutes to the inn. Not that things promised to be any better there.

  “So you and Bree work together?”

  “That’s right. I’ve only been there for about half as long as Bree, but we work in the same department.”

  “I assume you make good money then?”

  Aaron gave Bree a sidewise glance, chuckling. “Could be better, but they have a nice benefits package.”

  “That’s worth something, I suppose.”

  Bree willed him to step on the gas. At the rate they were going, this was going to be the longest fifteen minutes of her life.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, as she and Aaron escorted CeeCee up the stairs to the inn, Audrey met them on the porch. Her knit brows said Who in the world is this man with you?

  Bree hurried to make introductions. “Audrey, this is Aaron Jakes. Aaron is a friend from work.”

  He shifted beside her and cleared his throat, but Bree refused to meet his gaze.

  “Hi, Aaron.” Audrey offered her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too, Mrs. Whitman. Bree’s told me a lot about you . . . your family, I mean.”

  Audrey’s eyebrow went up, but without comment, she turned to CeeCee. “Cecelia, could you show Aaron through to the kitchen. We’ll be right there. I need to speak with Bree for a minute.”

  Audrey waited until they’d disappeared into the house before turning to Bree with a look that said something was up.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. Everything’s fine. I just wanted to warn you: Dallas’s brother is here tonight. You’ve met Drew I think?”

  Curiosity gripped her. “Yes. I met him at Austin and Tyler’s dedication at their church. And he was here for . . . some holiday too. Thanksgiving maybe? I forget.”

  “Well, I just wanted to give you a heads up. Don’t ask him about his work or anything. Dallas said Drew recently got laid off from his job, and I guess the job search has been a little discouraging. Understandably.”

  “Oh, no. Understandably,” she echoed. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sure he’ll find something. I think Dallas has a few leads for him, but it’s kind of rough right now.”

  “Of course.” It was starting to look like the ride from CeeCee’s with Aaron had been a picnic compared to what they’d walked into.

  Audrey cocked her head toward the house. “So this Aaron works at Wilkes? I think I’ve heard you talk about him.”

  “Yes. And I’m so sorry I didn’t let you know he’d be coming. It was kind of a last minute thing.” She cleared her throat and wiped her
palms on her jeans. “I hope that’s okay.”

  “Oh, heavens, of course. There’s always room for one more. So, Aaron, huh? What did you say his last name was?”

  “Jakes.”

  Audrey waited. For an explanation, Bree knew, of why she’d invited this stranger. Audrey was a most gracious hostess, but she didn’t exactly subscribe to the “there’s always room for one more” philosophy when it came to Tuesday family nights. Grant had gotten in trouble more than once when he invited the inn’s guests to join them. They’d finally just quit booking the inn out on Tuesdays.

  But if Aaron was going to be in Bree’s life, then that was different, wasn’t it? But this was a trial run. She certainly wasn’t ready to introduce him as her boyfriend, and she was beginning to wonder herself why she’d brought him.

  Audrey would just have to keep on waiting for an answer. “I’d better go introduce Aaron around.”

  “Of course.” Looking flustered, Audrey slipped into the house.

  Bree followed her, the luscious smell of Grant’s famous pulled pork barbecue meeting her in the entryway. She found Aaron with CeeCee, who was escorting him around the room for introductions as though she’d brought him herself.

  CeeCee presented him to Chase and Landyn, and then to Link, as “Bree’s friend from work.” Then she took the poor man’s arm and headed for Dallas and Danae who were in the corner of the living room tag-teaming a diaper change for their newly adopted baby. Dallas’s brother stood nearby with Austin, the Brooks’s four-year-old, on his shoulders.

  Before Bree could intervene, CeeCee started in with introductions again. “Kids, this is Aaron, Bree’s young man.”

  Oh for heaven’s sake! By the time CeeCee got to Grant, she’d have them engaged!

  Laughing nervously, Bree jumped into the circle. “Hi guys. Aaron works at the agency with me. At Wilkes. Aaron Jakes.”

  Dallas put down a wadded up diaper and started to offer a hand, then quickly wiped his hand on his jeans, grinning. “You might rather not shake hands just yet.”