"She didn't say anything. She was perfectly nice."
"Riley."
"What?"
"You get a very specific look on your face when Tessa Martin is involved. The same look you got in high school when she beat you for prom queen."
Riley grabbed another potato. "I don't care about prom queen."
"No. But you care about Grant."
Riley's hands stilled. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means Tessa's always been good at zeroing in on what other people want. And if she's back in town, single, and commenting on Grant?—"
"She wasn't commenting on him."
"Wasn't she?"
Riley didn't answer. Because Tessa absolutely had been commenting on him.Mr. Dependable. All those muscles. So steady.
Carol set down the masher and turned to face Riley fully. "Sweetheart. If you care about him—really care about him—you should tell him."
"We're taking it slow."
"Are you? Because it doesn't look slow. It looks like two people who never stopped caring about each other finally figured out how to be in the same room again."
Riley's throat tightened. "Mom. It's complicated."
"Love usually is."
"I didn't say anything about love."
Her mother just smiled. "You didn't have to."
By the time Grant arrived at five-forty-five, Riley had worked herself into a state of barely controlled anxiety.
She opened the door to find him standing on the porch, holding a bottle of wine and wearing a button-down that made him look unfairly attractive.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi."
"You okay? You look?—"
"I'm fine." Riley stepped aside to let him in. "Just nervous about dinner."
"It's going to be fine."
"Please stop saying that."
Grant smiled and handed her the wine. "I mean it every time I say it. You worry too much."
“How do you stay so relaxed?”
“Because I enjoy your company. Now, let’s go in so I can say hello. Plus, I’m hungry.”
"They’re definitely going to be testing you."
