“Elvis,” Gretchen said, toeing him back into the house. “You stay here, buddy. I’ll be back later.”

  “Yeowl,” Elvis said, but Gretchen paid him no mind as she stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her.

  “I like your wreath,” Will said, reaching out to touch one of the flowers. He saw little faces on some of the snowballs too, and he realized they were snowmen.

  “Thank you,” Gretchen said. “I’m not great at decorating, but my sister-in-law and I did a wreath class one year when I was visiting them in Fort Worth. I have one for every month now, and that’s about what I can handle as far as putting out holiday décor.”

  She slid her hand in his, and all of the jagged and upset pieces of Will smoothed and aligned. “I was thinking we’d try Italian tonight,” he said, stepping to move down to the sidewalk. “You mentioned you like pasta, right?”

  She had said it in a text last night. Will hadn’t been on a date in a while, and he really wanted tonight to go well.

  “I love pasta,” Gretchen said. “Where were you thinking?”

  “Wherever you want,” he said. “Do you have an idea in mind?” He went with her to the passenger-side door and opened it for her.

  She pressed in close to him. “I love the Cheese-It Bakery in Castleton. It’s only twenty minutes from here, same as town.”

  Will swallowed, because she stood so near to him. She put one hand on his chest, and all Will had to do was lower his head and he could kiss her. “I’ve been to Castleton,” he said instead, his voice made of gravel and dust.

  Gretchen grinned and stepped up into his truck. He closed the door while she reached for the seatbelt, and Will took a couple of extra seconds to round the truck to get behind the wheel, needing the cooler night air to help lower his internal temperature.

  Calm down, he told himself. Be cool. Cool and calm.

  He started the truck and lowered the volume on the radio. “Cheese-It Bakery,” he said as he lifted his phone to type it into his maps. Once he had that set and running, he added, “Only seventeen minutes from here,” with a smile in Gretchen’s direction.

  He backed out of her driveway, thinking maybe the hardest part of the night had ended. Then she said, “So, Will,” and he realized he’d have to talk to her tonight. All night. And he never liked sentences that started with “So, Will.”

  “Mm,” he said, tamping down his annoyance.

  “I told you a little bit about who I’ve dated in the past,” Gretchen said, her voice made of light and air. “What about you? Who’ve you been out with recently?”

  Will’s hand jerked on the wheel, and he dang near drove them off the road. He blinked and looked at Gretchen. “Did Travis set this up?” he asked.

  Gretchen’s smile faltered. It was false anyway, even if Will couldn’t quite see all of it in the orange lamplight. “No,” she said. She folded her arms across her chest. “It’s fine. Never mind.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Will said, swallowing back his idiocy. “Sorry. It’s fine. Let’s see…” He pretended to think about who’d he’d been out with. It wasn’t a long list, that was for sure, and he certainly knew the name of the last woman who’d carved his heart from his chest and sent him down this five-year-long road of celibacy.

  He sighed, because he really couldn’t lie very well. “The last woman I went out with was named Tara Wells,” he said. “I fell in love with her pretty fast, and pretty deep, and it wasn’t very pretty when she rejected my proposal.”

  Gretchen sucked in a breath, but Will didn’t look over at her. The road was dark, and he needed to make sure he didn’t kill them on the way to pasta bliss in Castleton. “Will,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “That’s why you asked.” He did look over at her then. Her arms had released, and she wore a genuinely compassionate look now. “Right?”

  “I mean…yes.”

  “You didn’t tell me anything about who you dated in the past. You said your boyfriend stole from you. That’s it.”

  “That’s a lot,” Gretchen said.

  “What was his name?”

  Her arms cinched around herself again, and Will wished he hadn’t asked. “Malcolm Adams,” she said. “We opened a candy shop together in New Orleans. I thought we’d get married, work the shop, teach our children all of our ways with caramel and chocolate.” She sighed, and Will really didn’t like the sound of that.

  “Things just don’t work out sometimes,” she said. “You know?”

  “I’ve experienced that, yes,” he said quietly. He reached over and took her hand in his. “I’ve seen people work through difficult things too, and they do stay together and work out. So it goes both ways.”

  Gretchen nodded and looked out her window. “Yeah.”

  “Do you miss him or the candy shop?” Will asked.

  She swung her attention back to him, her hand tightening around his. “Neither.”

  “Then why are you sad?” He glanced at her but quickly put his attention back on the road.

  “I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “There’s this element of fantasy, right? The big house, the white picket fence, the children…”

  Will wouldn’t allow himself to clear his throat. “That fantasy comes true for people.”

  “I know,” she said. “But not for me, it hasn’t.”

  “Not yet,” he said, looking at her again. “Right? It’s not too late for any of that.”

  “Will,” she said, her voice definitely brighter now. “How old do you think I am?”

  “I have no idea,” he said, and he did clear his throat then. “My mama taught me not to ask a lady’s age.”

  Gretchen giggled, and that made Will smile. “You say anything else you want though.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I do?”

  “Do you miss him or the candy shop?” Gretchen asked, dropping her voice and mimicking Will’s. “Who asks someone that?”

  “You seemed sad,” he said, a fire lighting inside his chest. “I was tryin’ to figure out why.”

  “You were tryin’ to figure out if I was ready to date you or not.”

  “That too,” he shot back. “Is there a problem with that?”

  “Yes,” Gretchen said, holding her own with him. “Not every woman is going to be Tara.”

  Will sucked in a breath and held it, wondering how this conversation had gone from her flirting with him about how old she was to the biting quality in her voice when she said Tara.

  “I’m sorry,” she said at the same time he said, “I don’t think every woman is Tara.”

  Pinpricks of light appeared on the horizon, and Will kept driving. “I dated her for a long time, Gretchen. Three years. Before her, I hadn’t dated in a while, and I thought she was going to be my fantasy, you know? That I’d have the cute house with the wreath on the door, and the kids in the yard, and there wasn’t a candy shop, but they’d all come with me to the dairy farm, boys and girls alike.”

  He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.

  “Maybe there could be a candy shop,” Gretchen whispered. “And a gray tabby cat named Elvis.”

  Will forgot about driving then. He looked at her and took his foot off the gas pedal so if they did crash, it wouldn’t be fatal. “Maybe,” he whispered back. “And the kids?”

  “I want kids,” Gretchen said, clearing her throat. She reached up quickly and swiped at her eyes, and Will wondered what he’d said to make her cry. “This is deep first date conversation,” she said in a much lighter tone.

  Will agreed, and he went back to driving. His mind wouldn’t let go of what she’d said, and when they pulled into the packed parking lot at Cheese-It Bakery, he knew he’d have to say what was in his brain.

  He found a spot and pulled in, put the truck in park, and looked at Gretchen again. “Does your age have anything to do with having the kids you want?”

  She smiled at him, and he liked the softness of it. She released his hand and reached over to cradle his face in that palm instead. “Do you always just say whatever’s on your mind?”

  “Not always,” he said. “Just the stuff I know is gonna keep me up at night.” He searched her face, almost desperate for an answer. “I’m forty years old. I haven’t dated in five years, since Tara said no. I’m a redhead and hot-headed, and I swear, Gretchen, I’m doing everything I can to keep my temper in check when you’re around.”

  He swallowed, because he’d said too much already. “Because I like having you around.” He pressed his lips together, but he had one more thing to say. “I really like you, and I want to get to know you, and be with you, and I’m going to stop talking now.”

  Gretchen’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t brush them away this time. “I’m thirty-seven,” she said, her voice a tad choked. “I spent a lot of my child-bearing years building my career, and I’m definitely second-guessing my life choices.”

  “It’s not too late,” he said.

  “No,” she said. “Not yet.” She dropped her hand and looked down into her lap. “I really like you too, Will.” Her gaze flitted over to him and then around the truck. “Should we go in?”

  “Yes,” he said, his cells buzzing with a new kind of energy now. “Stay there, and I’ll come get you.” He slid from the truck first, and while he wanted to run around to her side and help her out, he took his sweet Texas time.

  First to give her a chance to wipe her eyes and collect her emotions. Second to give himself a moment to enjoy the words I really like you too, Will.

  He hadn’t felt liked in a long, long time, and as he finally opened her door and found a smiling, shining Gretchen waiting for him, he wondered if she could ever possibly fall in love with a man like him.

  10

  Gretchen couldn’t remember a better date than the one she was currently on. Sure, the conversation had been a little heavy on the drive to Castleton, but once they’d gone inside the restaurant, it had lightened up.

  She’d gotten her “can’t decide spaghetti,” which came with marinara meat sauce and Alfredo sauce, and Will had professed his love for a good lobster mac and cheese. They’d talked about their siblings and their jobs, while staying away from the harder things like her mother’s death and his mama’s sickness.

  She’d already confessed far too much to him that night as it was, and he seemed to feel the same way.

  Now, he turned down her street, and a yawn pulled through her whole body. She couldn’t contain it, and Will chuckled. “Tired?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “I’m not up this late ever. I go into the shop about dawn.”

  “I’m up at four-thirty to run every morning,” he said.

  Horror ran through her. “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You won’t go tomorrow,” she said, not asking. “That’s in like four hours. Or will be, by the time you get home.” He drove an incredibly nice truck, and the clock blinked like diamonds in white lights on the dashboard.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “We’ll see how I feel when the alarm goes off.”

  “Will,” she said, helplessness in her voice.

  “What?”

  “You’ll be tired.”

  “I’m a grown man,” he said. “I know what kind of sleep I need.”

  “I feel bad.”

  “So our next date we won’t stay out so late.” He grinned at her. “The Culinary Cabin on Wednesday? Or did you want to maybe get together on Sunday? That’s a slower day for me around the farm. I could go with you out to your daddy’s.”

  Gretchen thought about it while he pulled into her driveway. The porch light shone in the midnight darkness, and her heart boomed in her chest. Surely this gentleman cowboy would get out and walk her to her door. Her lips tingled in anticipation of kissing him.

  Would he even try to kiss her?

  “Did I ask a really hard question?” Will teased. “It’s okay to say no, Gretchen. I can wait to see you until Wednesday.”

  “Do you go to church in the morning on Sunday?” she asked.

  Will sighed and reached to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Sometimes.” He looked at her. “I’d go with you.”

  She smiled at him. “Great. I’ll come pick you up, and we’ll go. I usually go to my daddy’s right after that, but you can follow me in your truck so you can get back to the farm if you need to.”

  “Oh, you’re gonna cause so much trouble for me,” he said, grinning at her. He got out of the truck before she could ask him what he meant, but she wasn’t going to let this go.

  He opened the door for her and crowded into the space as if she couldn’t get down herself. She could, but she took his hand and let him slide his other one along her hip. “What does that mean?” she asked, staying close in his arms. “Why am I going to be trouble for you?”

  “Remember my family?” he asked, his eyes a dark blue now. “We eat together every Sabbath Day. If I don’t show up…they’ll be all over me.”

  “Then we’ll eat at your house—farm—wherever you guys eat, and then go to my daddy’s.” Gretchen grinned up at him, noting the shock as it marched across his face. “Oh, I see that’s worse.”

  “Not worse,” he said, backing up as she stepped forward. “I’m just tryin’ to imagine the hullaballoo if I show up with a woman to Sunday dinner.”

  “Because you haven’t dated in five years.”

  “Right.”

  “But you told your mama about me.”

  “And Rissa.”

  “And Travis.”

  “Lee knows too.”

  “So no hullaballoo,” she said, stumbling over the word. She laughed and added, “I don’t know anyone who talks like that.”

  “Whatever,” Will said, his arm tight around her. “Everyone in Texas talks like that.”

  They laughed together as they went up the steps, and Gretchen paused right in front of her perfect mint door with the very January wreath. She put both hands on Will’s chest and leaned into him. “Thank you for tonight, Will. I had a lot of fun.”

  “Me too.” He smiled at her, and his eyes dropped to her mouth. Oh, yes, he was going to kiss her. Excitement built in Gretchen’s stomach, and her eyes drifted closed.

  The wisp of his breath touched her cheek, and then a horn filled the air. A truck came roaring into her driveway, startling her and Will apart, the horn blaring as the lights illuminated them and the house.

  “What in the world?” Will asked.

  Gretchen started toward the steps, because she knew who owned this truck. “It’s my neighbor,” she said. “Something’s wrong.” She flew down the steps in her long skirt, already calling, “LaMar? Is Rachel all right?”

  An older gentleman got out of the truck on the driver’s side, and he said, “She’s fine. We’re fine.”

  Gretchen’s heart wouldn’t stop sprinting. Neither would her feet, and she ran past Will’s truck to LaMar. “What’s going on then?”

  He reached back into the truck and pulled out a box. “Elvis got hurt at our place. We’ve been takin’ real good care of him, and I’ve been watchin’ for you to get home. I didn’t want you to go in and be worried he wasn’t there.”

  He handed her the box with Elvis cowering in it. He wore a wrap around his front right paw, and Gretchen couldn’t believe this was what had interrupted her first kiss with Will. Her brother’s bothersome cat.

  She looked up at LaMar, feeling so out of sorts. “Thank you,” she managed to say.

  He beamed at her, tipped his hat, and got back in his truck. She took Elvis up to the porch, where Will had waited for her. “My neighbor,” she said. “His wife has some health problems, so I thought it might be her.” She held up the box. “It was Elvis instead. He gets out and into things he shouldn’t.”

  She sighed as she opened the door and put Elvis inside. He yowled at her like that wasn’t the treatment he expected, but Gretchen’s exhaustion wove through her now too.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, stepping into Will’s arms again. The moment was broken though, and she couldn’t call it back now. “I’m keeping him for my brother as he goes through this hard thing in his life. His wife left, and he’s got the three kids all alone. I guess Elvis was too much for him.”

  “Hmm, I can see why.”

  Gretchen smiled up at the cowboy. “I’ll see you Sunday?”

  “I can’t wait,” he said, his lips right at her ear. He touched them to her neck and stepped back. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Mm.” She walked to the edge of the porch and watched him descend the steps and then stride toward his truck. She couldn’t believe she’d caught his attention, and while he had a gruff exterior, she knew more about the man underneath all of that now.

  And she sure did like him.

  “Meow,” Elvis said pathetically, and Gretchen sighed as she turned back toward her house. She went inside and closed the door, then bent to pick up the tabby cat.

  “You silly thing,” she scolded him. “You interrupted my kiss with Will.” How embarrassing was that? Her injured cat took precedence over kissing the handsome cowboy. Max was going to have some cat-tax to pay, that was for sure.

  Humiliation dove through her when she remembered how she’d run from Will—and all for a cat who probably wasn’t injured that badly?

  So embarrassing.

  She took Elvis down the hall to her bedroom, where he limped to the empty side of the bed.

  “You’re going to have to help me brainstorm a new plan to get him to kiss me on Sunday,” she said pointedly, glaring at the feline. “So start thinking.”

  Gretchen reached to untie her apron, her hands sticking to all the fabric on her shirt too. “Okay,” she said with a huge sigh. Her heart raced, and her eyes darted around the candy kitchen. “I have to go.”

  At the same time, she couldn’t go. Not with caramel-like-glue on every surface she could see. She and Jon had been making caramels for hours now for an event this weekend. She looked at the man, her eyes wide. She needed his permission to go before she could actually do it.