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by Raney, Deborah;

  This was not a good thing. He was twenty-seven years old, and he still didn’t have a clue what he wanted to do with his life. He’d been content enough in his sales job—not that he was a natural at sales. He’d sold clients a product they were already looking for. But if necessary, he could do the schmoozing cold sales required. His job had always been merely a way to pay the bills. Not a passion for sure.

  He’d never had a job that was anything but a necessary evil. He put in the hours so he could enjoy the evenings and weekends. He enjoyed them well, too. Maybe not so much recently, since he’d been without a girlfriend for the past five months.

  He wouldn’t wish Nora back. She was a nice girl, and they’d had fun together, but he recognized—even before she dumped him—that she wasn’t right for him. Like Lisa hadn’t been right for him. Or Heather. Or Rebecca.

  He slathered butter on the toast and carried his plate and mug into the living room where his iPad waited on the coffee table. He wasn’t sure if his restless spirit was a personality flaw or just a symptom of the fact that it was time he settled down and got serious about life.

  He’d had his fun, and it had been fun. Life had been pretty good to him. But if a year from now he was still living for the weekends and dating the flavor of the month, something was wrong. Maybe God had orchestrated this layoff to give him a chance to reevaluate his life and figure out what he really wanted from it.

  He flipped open his tablet and navigated to the job search he’d started last week. Most of the jobs that looked like possibilities were out of state. Or as far away as Kansas City or Columbia. St. Louis wouldn’t be too bad, but he didn’t really want to move away from Cape Girardeau. Dallas and his family were here, and they were the only family Drew had. Though Dallas had been adopted as an infant, Drew never thought of him as anything less than a blood brother. After all, Dallas had been there first. And Drew was grateful for the wisdom of an older brother.

  He clicked on a link in the job search site. A couple of generic responses, but nothing solid. And his brother seemed to be coming up with dead ends at his company too. Drew felt kind of bad he’d even asked Dallas to get involved trying to help him find work. That wasn’t a pressure his brother needed just when he was taking on the financial burden of two little boys.

  Taking a sip of strong coffee, he inhaled the aroma and stared, unseeing, at the iPad screen.

  The other night, being at the inn Danae’s parents ran, he felt he’d gotten a glimpse of a future that appealed to him. Not the bed and breakfast part. He didn’t have a clue what it took to run a business like that. But the big-family-gathered-round part. There was something about the Whitman family that drew him like a magnet. Maybe it was because he and Dallas grew up with only each other as siblings. They’d lost their parents young in life, and with that loss came a sense of . . . was it loneliness?

  He wasn’t sure. He stretched out his legs and propped his bare feet on the coffee table, cradling the warm mug in both hands.

  Being forced to think about the future this way, it had taken him by surprise—though it shouldn’t have—to realize that what he really wanted out of life was exactly what Dallas had. His brother had a great wife—gorgeous, yes, but so much more than that. Danae had substance beyond her beauty. She was funny and thoughtful and a great mom to their two kids. And it was easy to see those kids meant the world to Dallas.

  Drew was proud to take a little credit for his nephews too since he was the one who’d convinced his brother to consider adoption after Danae had tried for three years to conceive. It hadn’t been easy after Dallas’s own difficult experience searching for a birth mother who wanted nothing to do with him.

  He brought the iPad back to life and scrolled to his account. With a few clicks, he deleted his name from three out-of-town job listings. He’d keep St. Louis on the list, just in case he got desperate. But he was certain now. He wanted to stay in Cape.

  If he ever found a woman and settled down, he wanted to be close enough that his kids would know their Uncle Dallas and his family. Dallas and Danae had always included him in their family—even when it was something they were doing with Danae’s family. He hadn’t taken them up on those invitations often—usually because whatever girl Drew was dating at the time hadn’t been too hot on tagging along to his brother’s wife’s parents’ family gathering. He got that.

  Of course, when he had a girlfriend, he tended to feel more like he had a place he belonged. Until the girl started seeming all wrong.

  He let out a sigh. After Nora, he hadn’t exactly sworn off women, but neither had he gone looking. Now, given his job situation, even if the perfect woman appeared, he was in no position to ask her out. Dating wasn’t cheap. Even with Nora, who’d been generous and frugal—cooking for him more often than she expected him to take her out on a “real” date—still, a woman in one’s life tended to hit the wallet pretty hard.

  Not that he had even one woman on the radar right now. Well, maybe one. He thought of Bree Whitman, the woman who’d been married to Danae’s brother when he was killed somewhere in the Middle East. That’d been years ago, but Bree still attended all the family stuff at the Whitmans’. Drew had only met her a couple of times, but after seeing her again the other night . . . She was the kind of woman he would have gone after—if he had a job.

  And if she didn’t already have somebody in her life, of course.

  That guy with her the other night had been introduced as a friend from work, but it was pretty clear to him they were a couple. At least he—Aaron something-or-other—clearly had intentions toward Bree. He’d seemed like a nice enough guy, but Drew sensed he was more serious about Bree than she was about him. But who knew? Maybe she just held her emotions closer than most women.

  He finished his last bite of toast and brushed the crumbs off his hands. What was wrong with him . . . not only thinking about a woman he couldn’t afford, but one who was already taken anyway. Dallas teased him about being a lady’s man. Well, he might be somewhat that, but one thing he never did was hit on some other guy’s girlfriend. He wasn’t that desperate. Not yet anyway.

  His cell phone dinged from the kitchen counter and he popped Messages up on his tablet. A text from Dallas.

  You home?

  Drew typed in a quick Yup.

  Got a proposition for you.

  He sat up and pushed his plate and mug out of the way. Maybe something had opened up at Troyfield, Dallas’s company. He typed quickly, muttering the words as he pecked them out on his keyboard: Shoot, bro. I’m up for just about anything.

  If it would keep him out of the unemployment line, he was game.

  12

  Bree cringed, seeing Sallie’s car parked in front of the office. She’d purposely come to work early so she wouldn’t have an audience for her first contact with Aaron since their Tuesday night fiasco.

  Okay, maybe fiasco was a little strong for what had happened, but that didn’t make it any easier for her to face him today. She’d stopped by Starbucks for his favorite drink. That was something, wasn’t it? That she even knew his favorite drink?

  Taking a deep breath, she got out of the car and entered the building. Sallie was on the phone in her office, and Bree could see the top of Aaron’s head over the cubicle wall. After throwing a quick good morning to Wendy at the reception desk and putting her own coffee on her desk, she went to stand in the doorway of his cubicle.

  He looked up from his computer screen. The tortured look on his face made her feel like a jerk. She held out the coffee. “A peace offering?”

  He smiled, but his expression held reservation.

  She needed to take the bull by the horns here. “You doing anything for lunch?”

  He cocked his head. “Who’s asking?”

  “I am. I . . . I’d like to talk to you. If you’re not too mad at me.”

  “Okay. Lunch. But we can’t go till one—I’ve got a meeting—and I get to choose.”

  “Fine. You buy, you get to ch
oose. As long as it’s not McDonald’s.”

  “Awww.” He made a pouty face.

  She rolled her eyes at him.

  And just like that, they were back to their old banter.

  All morning, she was keenly aware of his presence. She wasn’t sure if she liked the feeling or not. But by the time one o’clock rolled around, she was feeling more at ease.

  They took his car and drove to Culver’s for burgers. The lunch crowd had thinned out by the time they got their food and found a table by a window.

  Aaron bowed his head, praying silently. She did likewise, not just to bless the food, but to ask God to guide their conversation.

  “Amen!” he said after a few seconds, unwrapping his hamburger and taking a man-sized bite.

  They ate in silence for a few minutes, but Bree felt him watching her and knew he was waiting for her to start the conversation.

  She took a sip of her Coke and straightened in her chair. “I think I owe you an apology first of all.”

  “Oh?”

  “It was pretty cowardly of me to just skip out on work like that. Leave you hanging.”

  He kept silent.

  “But I’m glad I did. It gave me a chance to figure some things out. Decide what it is I want for the future.”

  “So, did I make the cut?”

  She affected a chiding glare. “Just barely.”

  “That’s good because I paid for lunch, and I’d really be ticked if this was a breakup lunch.”

  She could tell he was trying to keep it lighthearted, but she wanted to sort things out. “It’s not a breakup lunch. And thank you for paying, by the way. I guess I never said that.”

  He waved her off, but she could tell he’d given up on the teasing, his expression serious now.

  “Aaron, if you haven’t completely written me off, I’d like to start all over.”

  He slumped in his chair. “Are you kidding me?” His smile said he was teasing, but she could tell there was some frustration behind it too.

  She held up a hand. “I don’t mean from square one. Obviously, or we wouldn’t be here having lunch together. But here’s the deal: I’m ready to start dating again. I’ve worked that out in my mind, and I’m all in on that. Okay?”

  “That’s a step in the right direction. Except”—he leaned forward and looked into her eyes, sort of the way an optometrist might—“I’m hearing a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

  “No buts, really. But I—” She laughed and started over. “I just want to be sure you understand that this is hard for me. I might not be the most fun date in the world. I’m still . . . working through some things. This might be emotional for me in ways you can’t really understand if you’ve never lost someone who was . . . the world to you.”

  “I get that, Bree. You may not believe it, but I do. And I promise I’ll take it slow, and I’ll let you freak out if you need to.”

  “I’m not planning on freaking out.”

  “Well, you never know.” He grinned, then dipped his head before meeting her gaze again. “I did a little bit of soul searching myself while you were off work.”

  “You did? What did you have to soul search about?”

  “Just . . . I realized I need to let you know I’ll be . . . careful with you. Before, I was treating you like any other normal girl—” He laughed and held out a hand. “That didn’t exactly come out right. Let me explain.”

  She grinned and rolled her eyes. “I know I’m not normal. You don’t need to tiptoe around that.”

  “You’re not normal. You’re incredible and intelligent and gorgeous and funny and—”

  “Okay, now you’re freaking me out.” She smiled. But he was freaking her out just a little. This “defining the relationship” was harder than it sounded.

  He stretched his legs out under the table and leaned way back in his chair. “You’re not going to let me off easy, are you?”

  “Not on your life.”

  “Note to self: don’t tell Bree she’s incredible, intelligent, . . .”

  She laughed. “You can tell me all those things. You just might want to spread it out a little. I can only take in so much about the wonders of me in one sitting.”

  “Got it.” His expression turned serious. “So what else. Any other ‘guidelines’ I need to know about?” He made quote marks with his fingers.

  She released a sigh. She was on touchy turf now, but she wanted to cover all the bases today. “This is nothing personal, Aaron, I promise, but would you be offended if I said I’d rather keep Tuesday nights to myself? With Tim’s family? At least for now? I know you’re not comfortable there, but . . . I’m not willing to just forget them. I’d like to take things slow . . . before I spring it on them that I’m in a relationship again.”

  “You don’t think they figured that out last Tuesday?”

  She stared at him. “Are you kidding me? That’s what started this whole thing. Because I introduced you as a friend from work.”

  “Oh. Right. So you just aren’t ready to show me off in public yet? Is that it?”

  She looked up toward the cash register. “Would I be here with you if that was true?”

  “Point taken. You’re not ready to give up Tim’s family yet.”

  “Yet? What if I never am? Is that a deal-breaker for you?”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “It just feels weird to me that you’d even be comfortable with that.”

  Her spirits did a nosedive. “What if I told you it was a deal-breaker for me? Do you really expect me to just ‘break up’ with them?”

  “You don’t think they’d understand? They surely don’t expect you to be single the rest of your life.”

  “No, Aaron, they don’t. But that’s not the point. They’ve been my family for all these years. I care about them. I love them like family.”

  “I’m not saying you shouldn’t care about them. But every Tuesday night? That seems a little extreme.”

  “Maybe it wouldn’t always be every Tuesday night. I’m sure as time goes on, things might taper off a little.”

  “They haven’t tapered off in five years,” he challenged.

  She clenched her jaw, then forced herself to stay calm. “If this is going to be that big of a deal between us, then maybe we’re wasting our time.”

  “Wait a minute.” He visibly tensed. “Let’s don’t make any rash decisions. We’ve got time to work things out.”

  “You’re the one who’s being rash. And if by ‘work things out’ you think you can eventually change my mind, then we’d both just be wasting our time.” This was not going like she’d hoped.

  “No, that’s not what I meant. Let’s just . . . let’s drop it for now. There are more important things to talk about.”

  “Like?”

  “Like, are we going to tell people? About us?”

  “What’s to tell?”

  “Duh. That we’re dating.”

  “Are we dating?” She wasn’t crazy about how quickly he’d changed the subject. And she’d meant what she said. She really didn’t want to pursue their relationship if he was going to make a stink every time she wanted to spend time with Tim’s family. It was totally unfair of him to ask that of her.

  Aaron looked around the restaurant as if making sure no one was watching, then he took both her hands in his. “I’d like us to be, Bree. I’d like to tell the world that we’re together.”

  “The whole world?” Her attempt to lighten the mood fell short.

  “Yes. But what about at work?”

  “I don’t think we should be all kissy-face at the office or anything, but I don’t care if people know we’re dating— Well, except for Sallie. Might want to keep that on the down-low for a while.”

  He let go of her hands and ticked off the items on his fingers. “No kissy-face at work. Down-low with Sallie. Got it.”

  She gave a sigh that sounded more exasperated than she’d intended. “Can’t we just work things out as we go? I know I’ve said this bef
ore, but I’m feeling my way here.” She sighed again. “It’s not fair to you. I know that. But I’m trying. It’s just . . . baby steps.”

  “I understand.” He put his hand over hers across the table again.

  She almost flinched. What was wrong with her? She liked Aaron. She managed to hide her initial reaction and placed her other hand over his.

  “You’re worth it, Bree. I’ll do my best. But you’re going to have to forgive me if I sometimes forget and treat you like you’re . . .”

  “Normal?”

  He grinned. “Yeah. That.”

  “I can be a very forgiving person.”

  “I’ll try not to give you too much to forgive.”

  She wriggled her hand out from under his and stuck it out for a handshake. “Deal.”

  The handshake he gave her was anything but businesslike, but she gave him a smile that said she was all in.

  But was she? This was going to be even harder than she’d feared.

  * * *

  Drew parked his car in the large area off of the Chicory Inn driveway and cut the engine. He wiped his palms on his khakis and climbed out, shooting up a prayer that this interview would go well.

  He hadn’t even spoken with Grant Whitman himself about this job, which made him a little nervous. But apparently Dallas had told Grant he was looking for work, and Grant said, “Send him out.” They were building a cottage behind the main inn, and Grant was hiring help.

  That was more than most of the companies he’d applied at could say. He didn’t have a clue what the pay was, or how long it would keep him busy, but he wasn’t going to turn down work. He knew Dallas thought highly of his father-in-law, so he wasn’t flying blind in that regard.

  He jogged up the stairs and rang the doorbell, hoping there weren’t guests trying to sleep in or anything. Dallas had said he should come early, so he’d left home a little before eight. August had ushered in ninety-degree days, and already the humidity was a beast.