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  Aaron made a comical face and put his hands up, palms out. “Definitely. Catch you later, man.”

  They all laughed, the ice broken.

  “Oh, I almost forgot . . .” Danae picked up the freshly diapered baby and handed him to Dallas. “While we’re making introductions, this is Dallas’s brother, Drew.”

  With little Austin still straddling his neck, Drew reached to shake Bree’s hand. “I think we’ve met before? One of the holidays?”

  “Yes, I remember. Nice to see you again.” He’d had a girlfriend with him back then, as she remembered.

  Drew extended a hand to Aaron. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise. Are you from around here, or visiting?”

  “No, I’m a local. I live in Cape,” Drew explained.

  “Yeah, same here,” Aaron said. “So, where do you work?”

  Bree froze. The one question they weren’t supposed to ask. Of course, poor Aaron hadn’t gotten the memo.

  Dallas’s brother shifted from one foot to the other, gently slid Austin over his head, and lowered the little boy to the ground. A crooked smile came to his face. “Well, until a few days ago, I could have answered that question without stuttering.” He ran a hand through his sand-colored hair. “I got laid off. I was in sales.”

  “Oh . . . Sorry, man. That stinks.”

  “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

  Dallas put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We’ve got some things in the works in the meantime.”

  Drew looked sheepish, and Bree’s heart went out to him.

  “Glad to hear it,” Aaron said. “Good luck, man.” To his credit, Aaron deftly turned the attention away from Dallas’s brother by ruffling Austin’s hair. “And who’s this little guy?”

  Austin puffed out his chest, arms akimbo. “I’m not little!”

  “Oh. Sorry there, buddy. You’re right. In fact, you’re a regular bruiser.”

  Austin grinned, and Aaron knuckled the boy’s hair again. Everyone laughed, obviously relieved.

  It warmed her to see Aaron so at ease with Austin. He’d make a good dad. Slow down, Whitman. She liked Aaron a lot, but she was getting ahead of herself. Way ahead of herself. She was glad the others couldn’t read her thoughts.

  Audrey called them all to the kitchen, and the usual Whitman chaos ensued. Aaron held his own, but there was no denying it was a little tense having him there. She felt like everyone was watching them together, trying to figure out what their relationship was.

  Part of the awkwardness of the evening was due to Dallas’s brother being there. He seemed like a nice guy, but it was obvious he felt a little out of place, as did Aaron. If the two of them hadn’t had such an uncomfortable introduction they might have hit it off, but instead they seemed to go out of their way to avoid each other.

  After dessert, Bree helped clean up the kitchen until Audrey shooed her out.

  “You have a guest. You don’t need to be back here slaving away.”

  Tim’s sisters agreed and urged her to go find Aaron. She found him out on the back deck making small talk with Grant and Link. She gave a little wave and walked past them down to the meadow where the kids were catching fireflies in Mason jars.

  She wished she could have a do-over and not invite Aaron. It was too soon. Having him here made this evening beyond awkward, and now she’d have to tiptoe around every Whitman while they hinted and pushed and tried to drag out of her what she did not know herself.

  Despite the heat of the summer night, she wrapped her arms around herself and stood at the edge of the meadow watching the kids. Save for the fireflies, strings of tiny lanterns Grant had strung from tree to tree provided the only light. On an ordinary night, the Whitman grandkids would be begging Aunt Bree to come and play with them. But tonight they’d been shy with Aaron beside her, eyeing him from a safe distance. She wondered if their parents had warned them not to bother Bree and her “young man.”

  A moment later, she turned to see him walking down the hill toward her.

  “How’s it going?” His smile seemed forced.

  “Good. I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

  “Yeah, okay.” He kicked at a clump of grass. “It probably would be good to get going. We’ve both got to work tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I’ll go tell everyone good-bye, and I’ll meet you at the car.”

  “Don’t we have to take . . . the grandmother home?”

  “Oh. Well, we can offer, but usually Grant drives CeeCee home. It’s his chance to spend time with her and check on her house and everything.”

  “Okay. Whatever.”

  She eyed him in the encroaching darkness. He seemed a bit aloof. But then she probably did, too. It was just weird being here with Aaron.

  She ran inside and made excuses, thanked Audrey for the meal, and got to Aaron’s car as quickly as she could.

  They weren’t even out of the driveway before he said, “Friend from work, huh?”

  “What?” But she knew exactly what he was talking about.

  “Is that really how you think of me?”

  “I . . . wouldn’t say that. But I didn’t exactly want to go into any details with Tim’s fam— With the Whitmans.”

  “What, you’re not allowed to have a boyfriend? You have to get their permission? After almost five years now?”

  “No. It’s not like that, Aaron. You don’t understand.”

  “So, help me understand.” He gripped the steering wheel, navigating the curvy road.

  “It’s just . . . I don’t want to make a big deal of it until there’s really something serious between us.”

  “Well, that could be arranged.” He grinned but kept his eyes on the road ahead.

  She was in way deeper than she wanted to be. Now they were going to be forced to “define the relationship.” Although bringing Aaron out to the inn had pretty much taken care of that.

  She shifted in her seat, stretching her seat belt out so she could angle toward him. “I like you a lot, Aaron, but I . . . I need to go slow. It’s been a long time since I was in the dating game, and I don’t even remember what the rules are any more.”

  “I’ll tell you what the rules are. When a guy has been working hard for a month and a half to win you over, you don’t introduce him to your ex’s family as ‘my friend from work’.” He affected a snarky tone.

  “Don’t call him that.”

  “What?”

  “Tim isn’t my ex. Are you serious?”

  He held up a hand, looking meek. “I’m sorry. I . . . wasn’t thinking.”

  “No . . . I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to jump down your throat.” But she wasn’t sorry. Aaron had forced this whole thing, and he was upset with her for introducing him as her friend? She had to admit, she could imagine how she would have felt if the tables were turned.

  “So just how tight are you with this family? Tim’s family? I mean, if we would end up getting married some day, would you—”

  “Aaron—”

  “No, hear me out.” He held up a hand. “I’m not proposing or anything. But I think it’s a fair question. Would I be marrying into two families? I mean, I haven’t even met your parents yet, and I’m supposed to meet the former in-laws?”

  “I haven’t met yours either,” she challenged, knowing she was just trying to divert the inevitable.

  “You will. I think I get a pass being that Fresno is two thousand miles from here. Your parents, on the other hand, live just up the road.”

  “Aaron—” She didn’t even know where to start with her parents. She got along fine with them, but she had a feeling that was only because they lived four hours away in Boonville and she rarely saw them.

  She drove to Boonville to visit a couple of times a year, and if her parents ever had business in Cape Girardeau, they would take her out to dinner. But for reasons she wasn’t ready to share with Aaron, conversation during those visits was like navigating a minefield—every topic a potential explosion
.

  Despite numerous invitations to stay at the Chicory Inn, compliments of the Whitmans, her parents always found an excuse to drive back the same night. Her mother never asked about Tim’s family and quickly changed the subject if Bree spoke of them.

  “It just seems like maybe his family has some kind of mysterious hold on you that—”

  Aaron’s words jerked her back to the present. “Listen, I’m sorry. It was a colossally bad idea to invite you tonight. I don’t know what I was even thinking.”

  He tapped on the brakes and reset the cruise control at a slower speed. “Did I embarrass you that much?”

  “No! Aaron, it’s not that. I just . . .” She might as well say it. “I’m not sure I’m ready to call us . . . a couple . . . an item. To date each other exclusively.”

  “What—?” He tapped the brakes again. “Why? Because you’ve got someone else in mind?”

  “No, of course not. Good grief, when would I even have time to see anyone else? If I’m not at work, I’m with you . . . or sleeping.”

  “Or at the Whitmans’,” he muttered.

  “Aaron—”

  “Man.” He shook his head and gripped the steering wheel harder. “I guess I know where I am on your priority list.”

  “Stop it. It’s not that.” She wished she could see his expression better, but on a moonless night in the dim interior of the car, she couldn’t tell if he was just being his usual snarky-but-teasing self or if he was genuinely ticked at her. Even if it was the former, she sensed there was some truth behind his fears and accusations. “I’m sorry I ever brought it up. I didn’t want to have this conversation tonight.”

  “What conversation?”

  “This! The one we’re having right now. The one where we’re suddenly obligated to decide how serious we are about each other, and what that means for our futures and—”

  He put the brakes on hard and veered to the right, driving a few hundred yards on the bumpy shoulder until he could pull into the driveway of a small farm on the outskirts of town.

  Bree froze, not sure what was going on. And she was afraid to ask.

  Aaron made a sharp U-turn on the drive, but instead of pulling back onto the highway, he threw the car in park, cut the engine. The headlights dimmed and faded like the night around them.

  10

  Despite the cloying heat, a chill went through Bree as the engine died and the headlamps went dark. She shrunk closer to her side of the car, watching Aaron from the corner of her eye.

  He unbuckled his seat belt and turned toward her. “Bree Whitman, I want to make myself—my intentions—very clear. I don’t want to be just friends. I’m falling in love with you, and I don’t care who knows it. But at the very least, you should know it.”

  “Aaron . . .” She’d never seen him this way. So intense. So bold. She wasn’t sure she liked it. She pressed deeper into the corner of the passenger seat, praying he wouldn’t try to kiss her. “I like you, Aaron. A lot. Maybe—probably more than ‘just friends.’ But I’m not where you are yet. Please give me a little time, okay? I’m not saying no or that I don’t like you in that way. I just need some time.”

  He blew out a hard breath. “Can I ask what it is that’s making this such a hard decision for you? If it’s something I can fix, I’ll fix it. If it’s Tim . . . I get that. I’ll try to be patient. But I don’t want to be strung on your chain and jerked around until you make up your mind.”

  “I don’t know what it is. If I did, I’d tell you. Maybe it is Tim. Maybe I’m just not ready to move on from that yet, but—”

  “It’s been five years, Bree. I’m sorry, but that seems like an awfully long time.”

  She shook her head, hard enough to feel her dangly earrings brush her cheeks. “Not five yet. Four years and seven months.”

  “I rest my case.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you know the days and minutes and seconds too?”

  “Now you’re just being mean. And no.” But there’d been a time when she could count the days. Not that long ago. “I’m trying, Aaron. I really am.”

  He scooted closer to her. Reached for her hand and wrapped it in his. “I’m trying too.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  She shuddered inwardly, hoping he didn’t notice. What was wrong with her? This man—a man she’d flirted with and genuinely liked—was being very sweet about declaring his intentions toward her. Aaron had been nothing but a gentleman since the day they met. They had so much in common—their faith in God, their careers, even their desires for the future, including wanting to settle down and have a family. Why couldn’t she let herself embrace this gift God had offered her?

  She forced herself to count to ten before withdrawing her hand from his. She gave his arm an awkward pat. “I don’t want to lose you either, Aaron. But . . . Can you give me some time? I’m a little confused right now. I need to try to figure things out. Without your handsome face complicating things.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean? You sound like you’re going somewhere. Going away.”

  “I . . . I might. I have some vacation time coming.” She felt as surprised as he looked to hear the words coming from her mouth. She did have some time coming. Several weeks of it, in fact. But she didn’t have a clue where she would go or how that would help her sort things out. But what she’d told him was true: she couldn’t think straight in his presence. And she needed desperately to think straight.

  * * *

  Bree opened her eyes and raised herself up on one elbow. The sun was just slanting through the blinds, casting a pleasant pattern on the wood floor in her bedroom. But last night’s forecast had promised another hot July day. She stretched and threw back the quilt, glancing at the clock out of habit.

  But she had no reason to get up this morning. She hadn’t set her alarm, but some internal alarm had awakened her at the usual time. Six thirty. Wednesday morning, the middle of the week.

  She’d called Sallie late last night and asked for the rest of the week off, telling her boss it was a minor emergency. “I’ll do what I can from home to finish up the events I was working on, but I won’t be able to come in to the office.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Bree.” There was more than a hint of curiosity in her boss’s voice. To her credit, she didn’t press Bree. “Aaron has been asking for some overtime, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to pick up the slack. Just so you’ll be back Monday. We need to meet about the dealers event for Preston-Brilon.”

  “Thanks for understanding, Sallie. I promise I’ll be back first thing Monday. And—if Aaron has any questions, he could e-mail me. Everything he should need is in the folders on my desk. I may not be able to answer my phone.” That had felt like a lie, and yet, it could be argued that she wouldn’t be able to answer her phone. Not if it was Aaron on the other end.

  She wondered what he would tell everyone at work. She’d started to text him and let him know she wouldn’t be in the rest of the week, but something stopped her. He would only try to talk her out of taking the time away, and that would just complicate things further. Besides, she’d told him last night that she needed some time to think. He would know what this was about and be anxious to hear whether she’d managed to resolve all the questions roiling inside her.

  And she had to figure this out. It was ridiculous that she was still wrestling with Tim’s ghost after so many years. She knew other war widows who had moved on, remarried after only a couple of years. Why was she making this so hard?

  She wished there was someone she could to talk to, but the people she usually went to—Audrey, and Tim’s sisters—couldn’t be objective on this topic.

  By the time she’d showered and thrown on jeans and a T-shirt, she’d made up her mind to pay CeeCee a visit. Tim’s grandmother might be growing forgetful in her old age, but there was still a lot of wisdom to be mined there. Bree could always depend on CeeCee to tell things like they were.
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  She started to dial CeeCee and make sure she’d be home, but then decided to “lay out a fleece” as Tim used to call it. If CeeCee was home, she’d take that as a sign that she was supposed to talk to her. If not, she’d have to deal with this on her own.

  Twenty minutes later, she rang the doorbell of the old house on the east edge of Langhorne. It was hard to imagine CeeCee moving out of this house. The tidy two-story home was the only place she’d ever lived as long as Bree had known her.

  Feeling suddenly nervous, she listened for footsteps. She thought she heard CeeCee’s scratchy voice, and a few seconds later the door opened.

  CeeCee put a hand to her throat, looking confused. “Oh dear. Is it Tuesday? I’m not ready, honey. You’ll just have to go without me.”

  “No, no . . . Today is Wednesday.” She was a bit alarmed that CeeCee could forget so quickly that they’d been to the inn only yesterday.

  “Oh, silly me. Of course it’s Wednesday.” CeeCee instantly seemed to “come to” and be herself. “Good thing too, since I didn’t have a dessert ready to take.”

  “You’ve got a whole week to worry about that.”

  “Well, not really. It’s my turn to host bridge at my house. I like to try out my recipes on the girls before I take anything new to Grant’s. It’s a pickier crowd there.”

  Bree laughed. “Really? I would have thought it would be the other way around.”

  CeeCee huffed and waved her hand as if swatting away a mosquito. “My bridge gals will eat anything. But don’t just stand here on the porch, for heaven’s sake. Come in!” She opened the door wide, and Bree followed her through.

  “Come help me get some iced tea ready.” CeeCee led the way to the little kitchen at the back of the house. “Why aren’t you at work?”

  “I have a few days off.”

  “Well, isn’t that nice?”

  They worked in silence getting glasses and pouring CeeCee’s home-brewed sweet tea over ice, then carried their glasses back to the living room.

  “So what brings you here,” CeeCee asked, after taking a healthy swig of tea.

  “I’m not even sure where to start.” Bree hadn’t rehearsed what she would say, knowing however she said it, CeeCee would hear deeper than her words. “I’m struggling a little bit with some things and I just”—she shrugged—“needed someone to talk it over with. Do you mind? Do you have time?”