“We should leave,” I say as a horrible feeling sinks into my gut.

  What if something is happening to the baby? We can’t just sit here.

  “It’s really not that bad, just weird. I’m probably reading too much into it.”

  But then she jerks again and I’m up out of the salon chair.

  “Leanna, let’s go. I’ll take you to see a doctor.”

  “No, no. There’s no sense in worrying over nothing.”

  But even as she argues, her eyes lock with mine, and it’s impossible to misread the worry there.

  “I’m sorry to run out on you, Mable,” I say as I gather my stuff. “My nails were going to look really pretty.”

  At the moment, I have one hand sporting Candy Apple and one hand that’s totally bare, but I’ll worry about that later.

  “Nonsense. You go get that girl checked out, and y’all come back here another day for manicures on the house.”

  “Come on, Leanna. I’ll drive you over to the doctor.”

  “I think I’m making this out to be a bigger deal than it is,” she says as we head out the door toward my nan’s car. I’ve been driving us around this afternoon just to make it easier. Her car’s still back at the diner, and I don’t feel comfortable taking her back to get it just yet.

  “I’d like to stay with you if that’s okay. I wouldn’t want to be by myself.”

  She gives me an appreciative smile as we climb in and then I peel out of the parking lot, heading toward Pine Hill’s sole family practice doctor. There’s not an obstetrician nearby. We’d have to go one town over to Maken for that, and it’s already getting late. There’s a chance the doctor’s office is already closed for the day, so I tell Leanna to call Dr. Sanders on the way and hand me the phone. As expected, the front desk girl tries to tell me they can’t fit Leanna in today as Dr. Sanders is done seeing patients, but I ask her twice to put Dr. Sanders on the phone. Every summer while I was growing up, Nan would deliver bushels full of her prized tomatoes to Dr. Sanders so he could use them to can his signature salsa. The second he gets on the phone and I explain the situation, he tells me to come right in.

  Once we arrive, it’s obvious Dr. Sanders was closing up shop. His front desk area is already deserted, and there’s only a medical assistant there to unlock the door for us. She smiles kindly and starts to show us back to one of the rooms.

  “I could sit in the waiting room—”

  “No.”

  That one word is uttered so quickly and firmly I know Leanna means it.

  I’m grateful for Dr. Sanders and his practice, grateful for this little town of mine that tries its best to take care of its own. He stayed an hour after he needed to so he could run a few tests on Leanna and even did an ultrasound. When we all heard Leanna’s baby’s heartbeat, we sighed in relief.

  Dr. Sanders walked her through the possible causes for why she was experiencing some cramping that ranged from the hilariously innocuous (she might have just had some bad gas) to slightly more concerning. For that reason, he suggested she see her obstetrician as soon as possible, but for the time being, he could confirm the most pressing matter: she wasn’t losing the baby. The little nugget was safe inside her with a perfect heartbeat and no signs of distress.

  “I feel so silly now,” Leanna tells me once we’re back outside of Dr. Sanders’ office, sitting on the curb, waiting on Trey.

  “No! Come on,” I reassure her. “We’ve all been there. You get into your head about something and start to think the worst. I can’t imagine what it’s like having to worry about another human inside of you! You did the right thing. Even Dr. Sanders said so.”

  She gives me an appreciative smile and knocks her shoulder against mine as a silent thank you. We only sit for a minute longer before Trey’s SUV cuts off the highway. Now that the sun’s gone down, it’s impossible to not get blinded by his headlights as he pulls into the parking lot and parks right in front of us. Leanna only reached out to him after she’d been seen by the doctor, and once he knew we were here, he insisted on coming to get her.

  He cuts the engine and the lights fade. A second later, he’s out of the car—unexpectedly coming from the passenger side—and already talking.

  “I could have come with you to the doctor,” he says as soon as he gets out. “I could have been in the appointment with you.”

  “I didn’t want to pull you out of practice,” Leanna says, standing just in time to receive the full force of his hug.

  “Are you kidding? Fuck practice. You think I care about—”

  He starts showering kisses on her hair and face.

  She laughs and tries to push him away, but he doesn’t let her.

  “How is she?” he asks.

  “The doctor says she’s okay. I was probably worrying for nothing, but I’ll confirm everything at the OB tomorrow. Dr. Sanders recommended one nearby and called ahead so they could squeeze me in. I didn’t want to fly all the way back to Los Angeles.”

  “Good. I’ll go with you.”

  Another car door slams, and I look away from them then freeze when I see Ben. A moment ago, it didn’t register for me that since Trey got out of the passenger side door, that meant there was another person driving the car.

  Ben’s here.

  My stomach somersaults around and around as I get a look at him, trying to seem casual about it. He hovers near the car, giving the couple some relative privacy. His attention shifts to me and I realize I’m still sitting down on the curb. I smile gently and push to stand, annoyed to find that my legs have gone a little wobbly. I slide a hand over the clothes I changed into after I left the diner—the junky t-shirt I throw on when I’m on my way to clean houses and some athletic shorts.

  Why can’t we ever meet on an even playing field?

  Oh right, because there is no even playing field.

  I could be standing here in a ballgown and he’d still be out of my league.

  He’s wearing jeans and a pale blue U.S. men’s basketball t-shirt like they were both specifically designed to grace his body. The t-shirt is a little snug across his broad chest and arms. The blue color looks great on him, just the right shade to bring out his olive skin and dark hair.

  I’d tell him that if I had a tongue that worked.

  He nods in my direction, and I smile again before looking back at Trey and Leanna. They’re still talking, having forgotten all about us until Ben clears his throat.

  Trey looks back at his friend.

  “Right, okay. C’mon, let’s go home. Ben’s going to drive us to get your car. It’s still at the diner, right?”

  Ben steps forward. “Actually, I was going to suggest that you two just take the SUV back. Leanna, you’ve had a long day.” He looks toward me and my stomach squeezes tight. “Maybe Raelynn wouldn’t mind driving me back to get your car?”

  “No, yeah. Of course,” I say quickly, wanting to be helpful.

  Leanna shakes her head. “No. I feel bad. It’s late and you’ve already been with me all day. You probably want to go home and unwind—”

  I laugh and shake my head. “It’s fine. I swear. Go home, and I’ll help Ben get your car back.”

  She nibbles on her bottom lip as she tries to smile, and I think she’s trying to hold back tears. I’m not surprised. Today’s been so stressful for her. She steps away from Trey and swoops me up into a big hug. Her arms are so tight around my waist I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to. It’s been so long since I’ve had a hug like this, and I’m momentarily frozen, unsure of what to do. Oh right…hug her back.

  “Thank you for being so nice to me,” she says quietly. “You really are the sweetest.”

  I’m so embarrassed by the lump in my throat that I just smile and shake my head, trying to shirk off her compliment.

  When she releases me, I step back to see Ben watching us curiously.

  “Thanks again, Raelynn,” Trey says, throwing me a friendly wave.

  I dip my head and start to head toward my car, already worrying over what a mess it is inside. The cleaning supplies that don’t fit in the trunk overflow into the back seat. My dress and apron from the diner are back there too. The passenger side is clear since Leanna was sitting up there all day, but when Ben opens the door and looks in, I can’t help but laugh.

  “Will you fit?”

  It’s a legitimate concern. The guy is somewhere north of six feet tall with shoulders that are probably twice the width of mine. This vehicle is minuscule compared to his SUV.

  “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

  Chapter Ten

  Raelynn

  I watch as he attempts to shrink himself down to fit inside the vehicle, hunching his shoulders and curving his spine. When he tries to sit up straight in the seat, his head skims the roof. His knees are bent up, hitting the dashboard, and then he looks over at me as if to say, Well? Are you going to drive or what?

  I can’t help but burst out laughing.

  “You should see yourself. It’s like you’re inside of a clown car.”

  His dark brow arches. “Are you going to start driving any time soon?”

  “I can’t,” I say, unable to curb the laughter. Soon, there will be tears rolling down my cheeks. “If I drive now, I’ll…I’ll…”

  I can’t even get the words out.

  He stares at me with furrowed brows and fake annoyance. I know it’s fake because he’s fighting back a smile.

  I inhale a deep breath and force it out slowly. “Okay. Phew, I’m good. I just won’t look at you while I drive, and I should get us there in one piece.”

  Sadly, the diner’s not far from Dr. Sanders’ office. Before I even work up the courage to talk to Ben beyond asking him how his day was, I’m pulling up beside Leanna’s sleek sports car and putting mine in park.

  “Thank god,” Ben says with a sigh of relief as he opens the door and tumbles out of the car. He stands to his full height and twists around, stretching out his back. His t-shirt rides up a little, just enough to afford me a quick peek at the side of his rock-hard abs. My cheeks blaze with heat and I whip my attention back out the front windshield before he catches me gawking. I feel like my eyes are the size of quarters when he rests his forearm on the roof of Nan’s car and leans down to poke his head back in.

  “C’mon, I’ll drive you home in Leanna’s car.”

  His demand catches me off guard, and I forget I’m trying hard not to look at him.

  My gaze whips to his. “What? Why?”

  “I don’t want you driving around by yourself this late. That highway is dangerous with the truckers barreling down it. This car’s so tiny they won’t even see you coming.”

  I want to tell him I drive at this hour all the time, but I don’t think that’ll convince him of anything.

  “I appreciate the concern, but there’s no need. I’m fine. Besides, if I go with you, I’ll be stranded back at my place, and I need to be able to get back to work in the morning.”

  “I can have someone come get you.”

  He has an answer to everything, doesn’t he?

  “I’m fine, Ben.”

  His head cocks to the side as he studies me. “Just curious, do you ever just do what you’re told?”

  I smirk, making sure he hears me loud and clear when I reply. “On principle, I try not to let men like you browbeat me into falling in line.”

  He grins. “Good. I like that.” He taps twice on the roof. “Now, let’s go.”

  Is he serious?

  I don’t even bother trying to hide my scowl. “Do you have faulty hearing or something?”

  That grin doesn’t waver. “Nope. I’m letting you drive your car, just like you asked, Little Bird. But I’ll follow behind you, make sure you get back safe. It’s a win-win.”

  We’re going around and around in circles. We’ll be here all night, warring over who’s the most stubborn, and I don’t have time for that. I lean across the console and prop my arm on the passenger side seat so I’m nice and close to him. “You know what? Go right ahead. Enjoy the view of my rusty fender for as long as you damn well please.”

  Then I grab the door handle and yank on it. He moves just in time for me to slam it shut without hurting him in the process.

  As I pull out of Dale’s parking lot, I’m high on how wonderful it felt to slam the door in his face. What kind of jerk insists on escorting a woman home? Hasn’t he heard of consent? Women’s rights? Hello, it’s the twenty-first century! If I want to drive in the dark on some shitty two-lane highway, that’s my right!

  My fuming anger burns out quickly though. I’m not even five minutes from Dale’s before I start to regret not arguing with him more. The truth is, I don’t really care all that much if Ben wants to make sure I get home safe. It’s kind of sweet, and honestly, I can’t remember the last time anyone cared that much about me or my life.

  My real worry is that taking Ben back to my trailer is crossing some kind of invisible line. I don’t really want him to know where I live or, more importantly, how I live.

  Until now, he’s only seen me at the diner. There’s a nice padding between him and my real life. We talk and taunt each other, and occasionally, yes, we flirt, but bringing him back to my trailer, showing him this part of my life…it’ll ruin everything.

  I can already imagine the pity on his face, and I don’t want to see it.

  I rub my palms on the steering wheel, glancing back at Ben’s headlights in my rearview mirror.

  Just leave.

  Please.

  But he doesn’t, and soon enough, we’re pulling off the highway and passing Sheriff Corbin’s farmhouse. I know what Ben’s thinking: This is where she lives? It’s not bad. In fact, it’s a pretty little house nestled on a nice piece of land.

  Then I keep driving past it, around the bend. The compact dirt road starts to give way to one a little more cobbled together. Weeds sprout up in the divide between the tire tracks as we keep driving through a grove of trees toward the back of the property.

  My headlights illuminate the beat-up trailer and I wince, taking it in with fresh eyes. I hate that I’m near tears right now. I hate that I have to feel shitty about where I’m at in life. I’m not a deadbeat. I didn’t screw up and get myself into a bad situation. Life’s just dealt me a bad hand time and time again.

  I park and turn off the car, staying where I am for a beat and waiting to see if Ben will leave now that I’m home. What a blessing that would be.

  He cuts the engine in Leanna’s car, and we’re plummeted into darkness. Out here in the country, there’s nothing but the moon and stars to lead me to my trailer door.

  With a resigned huff, I grab my purse and my clothes from the back seat then head out into the night. Rocks and grass crunch under my shoes, and I listen carefully as Ben opens his door and joins me.

  I don’t bother telling him he can come in, and he doesn’t bother asking.

  What must it feel like to own the world? To slide through life with that much confidence?

  I don’t keep the trailer door locked, so I whip it open and flip the switch inside so warm light floods out.

  “Come in quick if you’re coming. The light draws in all the bugs.”

  Ben climbs the stairs after me and lets the trailer door slam shut behind him.

  I keep moving down the narrow galley walkway, past the bench and table on the right and the kitchen on the left without looking back at him.

  There’s a deafening silence in here that even the hum of the cicadas outside can’t drown out.

  My hands shake with nerves as I drop my purse and my work clothes on my bed, shutting the door of the small bedroom behind me as I re-enter the common space.

  Ben’s still standing right beside the door, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he inspects every inch of my trailer. His gaze slides over my blown-up image of the Hubble Ultra-Deep Field I keep above the table. It’s a shitty poster I grabbed inside of Caltech’s campus bookstore. I used to keep it in my dorm room. Here, in the trailer, with the shallow light, you can barely tell what it’s supposed to be. It almost looks like assorted-sized white and yellow confetti on a solid black background.

  “That’s one of the deepest views of space ever captured in visible wavelengths,” I explain, and his brows furrow as he continues to study it. His interest spurs me on. “The million-second exposure was taken over the course of 400 orbits of the Hubble Space Telescope, and that image contains more than 10,000 galaxies.”

  His gaze slides slowly to me and still, he stays quiet, goading me on.

  I have to fight my smile as my enthusiasm starts to bleed out of me. “You want to know something else? You probably know light takes time to travel, so when we look at an object or star that’s 13 billion light years away, we know the light emitted from that star has been traveling toward us for 13 billion years. So, basically, we’re seeing that star as it appeared 13 billion years ago.” I point to the Hubble Ultra-Deep Field. “Like those stars right on that little poster in this crappy trailer.”

  He nods, obviously intrigued by my rambling. I pray he can’t see my blush as I turn and busy myself with checking the cupboard for something to eat for dinner.

  “You like space?” he asks, turning in a slow circle, eyeing my other posters and pictures: Eileen Collins as the first female commander of a space shuttle mission, the first untethered spacewalk, the first image of a black hole.

  I shrug. “Yeah. Couldn’t really help it. My nan raised me on Star Trek.”

  He looks back toward me. “Nan is your grandmother?”

  I nod.

  “She raised you?”

  “That’s…not what I meant.” I rummage around in the cupboard like I’m looking for something I can’t see. There are only a few things in here. What’ll it be, Raelynn? Soup or soup? “I was just saying I watched a lot of Star Trek. But yes, she raised me.”