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“Fine.” She crossed her legs and put her hands on her knees. “So, darling, tell me about your family.”

He spent the rest of the drive giving her a rundown. Carson and Olivia got married last January. Elsie, his younger sister, was at the University of Montana and wanted to find work in Lark Springs after she graduated so she could be near her boyfriend, Kye. He split his time between being a high school math teacher and working on his family’s ranch.

“What sort of a job does she want in Lark Springs?”

“Her choices will be limited. But as long as Kye is running cattle, he has to stay here.”

Love versus career location. It was the same kind of situation that Jace and Jennifer were in, but Elsie was willing to sacrifice more for love than Jennifer was. Marlowe didn’t point that out. She was afraid if she made the comparison, Jace would decide he was the one who needed to make a grand gesture for love and stay in LA with Jennifer.

While Jace spoke, Marlowe watched him, tracing the lines of his face with her eyes. His square jaw, strong nose, and the sweep of his blond hair. Those lips. She had kissed those lips so many times in high school … and at Legends.

She shouldn’t be fixating on them. And she shouldn’t care where Jace ended up or that he’d given his heart to someone who didn’t deserve it. Not her circus, not her monkeys. And yet part of her brain was replaying their date on Friday, the feel of Jace’s arms around her as they swayed to the music, the feel of his mouth on hers, kisses short enough to be teasing but long enough to leave her breathless.

Jace pulled up to his house, a large white home in a neighborhood where the houses weren’t crowded together like they might accidentally elbow each other. This house knew it had presence. Importance. The front porch stretched out, already staged with chairs that practically invited people to sit down and stay awhile.

Jace turned off the car. “It’s showtime again.”

It was definitely showtime, just not the showtime Jace expected.

He got out of the car, and this time, he automatically opened her car door. They went inside to a home that looked both old-fashioned and lived in. A comfortable black leather couch and loveseat sat in the family room, worn in places. A big-screen TV perched between bookcases filled with a hodgepodge of books, there to be read, not placed there as quaint knickknacks.

Marlowe’s memory had failed her. The picture hanging on the wall wasn’t of Benjamin Franklin. George Washington at Valley Forge had the honor. But she was fairly certain the two men were friends, so maybe the quotes would still work.

Lucas was sitting on the couch with Riley and called to the others that Jace had arrived. Carson and Olivia came into the family room to meet her. Marlowe had always thought that Jace and Lucas were tall at six foot three, but their older brother had several inches on them and was built mostly of muscle—and from the way he was eyeing Marlowe, also suspicion.

Olivia was welcoming, though, happily making small talk. She had the height of a model with long dark hair and pale skin that brought Snow White to mind.

Elsie, the only daughter of the family, came in with her boyfriend, Kye. At that point, Marlowe began to feel that being five foot seven made her very short. Elsie was brunette, pretty in a striking way, and more reserved than her brothers. She smiled shyly, keeping close to Kye as everyone talked. He wore cowboy boots and a plaid shirt, like someone who’d wandered off the cover of a western romance novel. With his dark hair and blue eyes, he was handsome enough that Marlowe could see why Elsie wanted to find a job near him.

Jace’s parents came into the room to announce that dinner was ready—more tallness. Mr. Clark was at least six foot four, and Mrs. Clark looked close to six feet herself, which, to Marlowe’s mind, had always made her seem intimidating. She was plump and matronly with lines at the side of her mouth that gave her a permanent expression of mild disapproval.

Jace’s parents greeted Marlowe and told her it was good to see her again, but even Marlowe could tell their smiles were tight and wary.

Time to turn on the charm.

The entire family settled around the big oak table in the dining room where the food was already waiting. Marlowe sat next to Jace, trying to act natural as she passed the potatoes, laughed at the right times, and maintained perfect posture like this was an interview instead of dinner.

She was quick with compliments. She told Mr. and Mrs. Clark that their home was beautiful. She told Carson she was a Broncos fan. She asked Elsie about her college classes. And since Olivia had been an art teacher before she married Carson, Marlowe told her and Kye that she thought teachers had some of the most important and underappreciated jobs.

When Mrs. Clark asked Marlowe how her weekend was going, Marlowe mentioned that she’d taken her grandma to church, and the two had signed up to work on a service project that provided school clothes to needy children.

Jace sent her tight-lipped looks during that part, which she ignored. It was the truth, after all. Grandma never missed church and insisted on gabbing with her friends afterward for so long that Marlowe ought to bring snacks, a phone charger, and the patience of a saint.

“Well,” Mrs. Clark said, “I’m glad you could fit dinner with us into your schedule. As I understand it, you had planned to visit a friend. In prison.”

Marlowe nodded and resisted the urge to twist her hands in nervousness. “My old roommate is s a staunch opponent of deforestation. I told her she needed to protest in legal ways.” Marlowe put her hand on her chest for emphasis. “Heaven knows, I learned that lesson the hard way in high school when I got a ride in a police car.” Marlowe shrugged—an older but wiser sort of shrug. “My roommate didn’t listen to me, but as the Good Book says, I was in prison and you visited me.” Marlowe gave herself bonus points for working that quote into the conversation. “I don’t want to turn my back on a friend just because she made a bad choice.”

“Two bad choices,” Jace said, “if you count the bulldozer theft.”

“Fine,” Marlowe said, “two bad choices.”

Riley leaned closer to Olivia. “I totally want to go joyriding on a bulldozer now.”

“You can’t do it,” Olivia said. “Lucas won’t let you. Your boyfriend still has the instincts of a police officer.”

“I know,” Riley said, deflating a little. “You wouldn’t believe how many activities that ruins.”

“Does it?” Lucas asked with raised eyebrows. The expression was identical to the one Jace used on Marlowe so often.