CeCe places her hand over mine. “Okay, so Asher isn’t ‘the one.’” She pauses for a beat, tapping her lips. “Ooh, I have an idea. What if we sign you up on eMatch? Maybe you’ll find the one there.”
“No way. I draw the line at dating apps.” I mimic tracing an invisible line in the air.
“They aren’t what they used to be,” Ginger pipes up. “Lots of people meet their soulmate online now.” Her tone is so convincing she could advertise for the damn app.
“You’re incredible, Liv, and I bet you’ll have so many matches you’ll be handpicking them—”
“You know what? Fine,” I give in, hoping they’ll stop talking so I can sip my coffee in peace. “I’lltryit. But if I get any weirdos, I’m out.”
“Define weirdos …” Ginger grins. I shoot her a look that tells her I’m about to change my mind.
“Of course, no weirdos. Deal,” CeCe says, clapping. “We’ll help you set it up.”
“This is gonna be so fun!” Ginger’s excitement scares me. Cole has turned her into a blissful romantic who wants everyone else to be as starry-eyed as she is.
“And we’re only doing this because you won’t take advantage of what is right in front of you,” CeCe adds, holding up her orange juice.
“Look, even if we weren’textremelydifferent”—I remember our fire chief ’s words from last night—“Asher is not the type to settle down. He told me himself. Plus, he’s the epitome of the bad boy I said I’dneverdate again.Andhe’s a firefighter.”
Ginger gasps and covers her mouth in mock horror. “Not an extremely hot, hands-on profession!”
I start to laugh in spite of myself. “Look, it’s just the idea of being with any man with such a risky career is a hard no for me.”
The fuzzy image of him getting out of his truck lookinglike a small-town superhero last night enters my mind. I suppose Ginger has a point—itwashot.
“I’d just like to know the odds are on my future husband’s side that he’ll come home to me every night.”
“I hate to break it to you, but your future boring husband could get hit by a bus walking across the street,” Ginger fires back.
“We don’t have buses in Laurel Creek,” I answer dryly.
Ginger sticks out her tongue. “Semantics.” “And we’re talking about it for nothing. All I’m looking for right now is a long-term, steady relationship. Asher Reed not only sorta, kinda scares the shit out of me, but he also haszerointerest in that.” I picture his face scowling down at me last night.“Orme.”
Reaching for my phone, I almost moan as I take my first big sip of coffee, knowing it’s time to face the music. I quietly dial my parents’ number, take a deep breath, and brace for impact.
“What are you doing up here so early, darlin’?” a deep and kind voice asks as I pull in the fresh air and the view from the big house back porch.
“I didn’t know you were here. I don’t want to disturb you,” I say to Jo’s dad, Dean. We all call him Papa Dean. I’ve known him for almost my whole life; he’s not just the Ashbys’ grand-dad, he’s everyone’s granddad.
“There’re plenty of chairs out here for a reason.” He brings his coffee to his lips and takes a big sip, his white mustache twitching, his form of a grin.
“I just came to grab one of Jo’s famous muffins and another coffee.”
“Mm-hmm. Needed some breathing room?”
“Yep,” I answer, settling into the moment as we look out over the peaceful property together.
“I was thinking about taking a walk through the trails, to clear my head,” I admit. The early-morning sun is beaming down, evaporating the light dew in the grass.
“Spring is such a nice time, isn’t it? Everything’s so fresh and new …” Dean replies as he glances at the wide, flat yard. Jo’s daffodils and the Virginia bluebell beds are in full bloom, meaning the property is alive with color as far as the eye can see.
I follow his gaze as the sun creeps over Sugarland Mountain in the distance.
“Normally I love spring,” I tell him softly. “But this spring is a bit of a challenge for me.” I have no idea why I’m saying this to him, aside from the fact he’s always been easy to talk to.
“Heard about your place. You know you’re welcome here as long as you need.” Dean rocks in his chair, his eyes filled with the wisdom of almost eighty years of lessons learned.
“I know, and I’m grateful. But my home has always beenmyspace and, without it, I feel unsteady. Like the rug has been pulled out from under me.”
