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“In that case, I’m glad my grandmother provided you with some variety. She can get stuck on a roof while being completely sober.”

He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “That call not only provided variety, it got me a girlfriend.” Without thinking about it, he patted Marlowe’s knee.

She wound her fingers through his and held his hand. And then she didn’t let go. It was suddenly very hard to concentrate on driving and not think about her soft skin pressed against his.

A memory surfaced in his mind of the first time he held her hand. They’d been at a movie and her hand had been sitting on the armrest next to him. He’d worked his courage up for a good twenty minutes before he slid his hand on top of hers. Her hand immediately turned to hold his, and they sat like that throughout the rest of the show.

He left the theater still holding her hand and floating on air.

Now the same feelings were stirring inside him, making him feel like that seventeen-year-old. He ought to know better. Marlowe’s affections for him now were just teasings, probably designed to drive him crazy. He’d told her that they should always act like boyfriend and girlfriend even when they were alone, and she was showing him why that was a dangerous idea.

But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her he’d changed his mind, and they should only act like a boyfriend and girlfriend while they were around his family.

Was that something else he was going to have to analyze later?

They pulled into the parking lot of the Riverside Inn where Lucas and Riley worked. Tourist season was just getting underway, so it was mostly full, but he spotted Carson’s truck and found a place nearby.

It was almost a relief to let go of Marlowe’s hand to get out of the car. He needed some fresh air and an opportunity to reset his brain. He walked around the front side of his car, taking several deep breaths and feeling the sunshine warm his shoulders. His brain didn’t reset. His gaze was drawn to her, sitting patiently in her seat. Her eyes followed him, and she fought a smile.

He opened her door and held out his hand to help her out. She took it and her smile grew. He was about to ask her what she found so amusing when Lucas’s voice came from across the parking lot.

“Bro, we’re over here.” He stood behind their parents’ Suburban, holding a red cooler. Riley was next to him with a shopping bag in her arms.

Riley nudged Lucas. “Your brother opened the car door for Marlowe. How come you never do that for me?”

“You can’t say I’ve never done it,” Lucas said. “I definitely held your car door open for you that time I arrested your date for drunk driving.”

Riley wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think it counts if it’s another guy’s car and you need me to get out because you’re about to tow it.”

“Totally counts,” Lucas said and turned to Jace. “Thanks for making men everywhere look bad.”

Jace squeezed Marlowe’s hand. “She refuses to get out if I don’t. I can’t risk her getting heatstroke.”

He assumed that his parents had already taken the first load of stuff down to the river, but his mother appeared from the other side of the suburban. “Good for her.” She sent Marlowe an approving nod. “I’ve always told my sons they needed to act like gentlemen. It’s nice to know there are still women around who agree.”

Yep, Marlowe had just inadvertently racked up more brownie points with his mother. He should have thought about that and told her he couldn’t open the door for her when his family was nearby.

“I’m trying to be the old-fashioned sort of girlfriend,” Marlowe said, and as though to prove it, she held up the canvas bag she carried. “I hope you all like homemade bread and jam because I brought some.”

“You bake bread?” his mother asked, clearly impressed.

Marlowe nodded. “My grandma taught me how when I was a little girl. The jam is from our raspberries. We make it every year. Nothing beats homemade raspberry jam.”

His mother brightened. “I make jam every year too. We’ll have to make a party of it when raspberries come on. What else do you can?”

Marlowe hesitated and he wondered if she had invented her bread and jam skills just like she’d invented pie-baking skills. “Just the jam,” she said. “Although I keep meaning to learn how to do peaches. I love those.”

“I can teach you how,” his mother said. “I do peaches, applesauce, pears, and salsa.”

His mother handed Marlowe a bag full of chips and crackers to carry, and the two of them walked down the trail to the river talking about pressure cookers.

What was happening?

Did Marlowe actually know anything about pressure cookers, or was she trying to get on his mother’s good side?

And if she was trying to get on his mother’s good side, was it because she was worried about her reputation in town and wanted to counteract the persona that Jace had forced onto her, or was there something more to it?

Jace’s father said, “Kye and Elsie will be late, so we’re not waiting for them.” He handed Jace a bunch of folding chairs, and Jace followed the rest of his family down the trail.