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“I’ve done a bunch of work for George, not only keeping his vehicles going, but restoring a couple of old cars,” I tell her.

She nods. “Everyone knows George is into that.”

I shut the truck off and rest my wrists on the top of the steering wheel, just watching her. She’s taking in the trees that hug the wooden fence line on either side of the dirt path that will lead into the property.

The trees are a collection of local varieties, with magnolias on either side of the path.

“As George has gotten older, he needed more help with some of the restoration projects,” I say. “One day when I was working on his truck, he mentioned it. We’ve had a really good time over the past year working on a couple of his cars.”

She shoots me a smile. “You seem to really get along well with guys who are forty or fifty years older than you.”

I laugh. “Or more. George is turning eighty-six next month.”

She grins. “So are we out here to work on an old car?”

“No. And I hope that’s not what you’re into, considering George just sold his collection.”

She lifts her brows. “Really?”

I nod. “It was a tough decision for him, but he realized he wanted to decide where the cars went rather than leaving it up to some auction after he died.”

“Oh, that’s kind of nice.”

“I agree. He seems pretty satisfied with it.” I look past her, out the window at the path. “But that means he now has a big old barn sitting empty. And I had an idea.”

“What kind of idea?”

Instead of answering, I get out of the truck and come around to her side. I pull open her door and extend a hand. “Let me show you something.”

She doesn’t even hesitate to put her hand in mine, and I like that more than I should.

I like it so much I don’t let go of her hand, and she doesn’t tug hers away as we head up the path. It’s about twenty yards, and the sun breaks through the tree leaves in several spots, splashing the dirt and large gravel with bright patches.

It’s a gorgeous seventy-three degrees with a light breeze, and I swear I almost have to believe the universe is on my side for this big reveal.

“It’s so nice out here,” Sutton comments.

“It really is,” I say as we step out from the tree-lined corridor and see the reason I brought her here.

She makes a little gasping noise. “Oh, this is really pretty.”

It’s a barn. Sitting in a cleared area, with packed dirt around it, a few old tires, wooden crates, and a rusty toolbox off to one side. There are a few slats missing on the front, but for the most part, George kept the building in good shape because he kept his prized cars inside.

The junk can be cleared, and beyond the dirt packed by car tires over the years, there are several feet of wild grass and wildflowers, then a half-circle of more trees.

“We could put big stone tiles out here over the dirt,” I tell her. “It would make it easier for people to walk around. We could mow down the grass and plant something else though I do think the wildflowers are pretty. We could maybe even scatter more seed and fill it in, make it thicker. And imagine lights strung from the trees. Little tables and chairs set out on a patio area. We could build out a wooden awning for shade and string more lights there.”

She looks up at me, completely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Come inside,” I say, tugging her forward.

I was out here just a little bit ago to make sure it was what I was thinking of before bringing her here, and I have a lot of ideas.

I yank open the left barn door and then pull her inside. I hit the switch on the wall—George has electricity out here, and it’s climate-controlled, again for his precious cars—and the lights overhead come on.

Again she gasps. “Oh, this is really nice.”

It’s a little dusty, and George was in the habit of storing more than just old cars out here. It needs some general cleanup. And for what I have in mind, it will need a paint job and more.