“I’m leaving, Dad,” Becca said, standing in the doorway of the living room. Her father was in his recliner, reading glasses perched on his nose, face in an aged paperback suspense novel. It was his favorite pastime, and seeing him sitting there gave her a little hope that dating wasn’t going to change him too much.

Becca hadn’t let him off the hook this morning when he’d gotten home, but instead prodded until he’d come clean and told her about Evelyn. Ugh. It was still hard for Becca to think about. He’d called it casual. Said it was nice to have a companion. Reassured Becca that no one could ever replace her mother, but that he was lonely. That comment alone had made Becca sad. It was selfish of her to expect her father to live out the remainder of his life alone. But that didn’t keep it from hurting, or prevent her from feeling a little jealous and angry on her mother’s behalf. Yet she knew that Karen wouldn’t have wanted him to be sad, either. Life was just so hard and unfair sometimes.

“Dad, you hear me?” she asked, her voice going up an octave. “I’m leaving.”

His head jerked up and he pulled off his glasses, then smiled. “Well, don’t you look nice. Where you off to?”

“Hannah called and invited me to hear her boyfriend’s band play,” Becca said.

Her father chuckled. “That should be interesting. The way she describes him, I get the feeling Jonas is quite a character.”

Becca smiled. Tim Walters wasn’t the kind of man to insult—or even dislike—most people. But Becca could usually tell when he thought someone was a little off, as this Jonas must be. Not a surprise, really. Hannah liked to date the oddballs, but never for long, and never very seriously. Why should she? Jase was always there for her, making it easy for her to have her cake, cookies, and candy, and eat them, too.

“Brian driving down tonight?” Tim asked.

Becca shook her head. “I wish. He was supposed to come Monday after work, but he called a little bit ago and said he might not make it until Christmas Eve.”

Her father’s brow furrowed. “Well that’s too bad. He say why?”

Becca shrugged. “Work stuff, I’m sure. It happens all the time.”

“Everything okay with you two?”

“Course,” she said, pasting on a smile. “Just growing pains, I guess. He’s busy at work. I’m always busy grading papers or staying late after school.”

“Time for that boy to propose. A relationship is hard, but you have to commit. That’s when things blossom, when you both know you’re all-in.”

“When you’re stuck, you mean?” Becca teased.

“That’s right. Except these days not enough folks consider themselves stuck. Instead of working it out, they bail.”

Becca just smiled. She really felt like this Christmas should be the one where Brian made the commitment to be stuck with her. They’d been seeing each other for over two years. They were both grown adults. It was time. Wasn’t it?

She was trying hard not to be pissed about him not driving down until Christmas Eve, but she was. Lately it was always something that made him let her down, and honestly, it was getting harder and harder not to take it personally. Part of their reason for deciding to spend so much time at her dad’s was to get away for the holidays. Relax together for a change. Sit by a fire, enjoy the scenery of the country. Last year they’d gone to his family’s house in St. Louis, and she’d missed being home for Christmas.

This year, at her childhood home, it felt like the perfect way for him to propose. Surrounded by her family after a week of nothing but R&R. And maybe he still would. It was possible that she was being oversensitive and worrying about nothing.

“You going to be warm enough in that dress?” her father asked as she put her coat on.

“Yes, Dad. I’ll be fine.” She’d chosen an outfit that made her feel good, her favorite black sweater dress with a modest but plunging neckline. Brian had called it “a little suggestive” when she’d worn it out with him. But she liked it, and after getting walked in on in her underwear and bedhead, it was nice to feel put together.

“Well you look real pretty, Becca. Remind me of your mother when she was young.”

“Aw, Dad. Don’t make me cry and ruin my makeup.” She walked over, leaned down, and kissed him on the head. He smelled faintly of cigar smoke—a habit he’d been trying to give up for twenty years—and an unfamiliar cologne. She couldn’t help wondering if that was an Evelyn change.

“You be careful, now. If you have a little too much to drink, maybe stay in town with your sister,” he said, looking up at her with a stern but loving face.

“I’ll be fine, Daddy.” Becca squeezed his shoulder and then headed back through the kitchen and out the side door.

As she picked her way across the snow-coated gravel yard to her vehicle, she suddenly questioned her dress choice. It was December, and although she had on tights, she instantly had goose bumps. She wasn’t even sure what kind of bar this was that Hannah had invited her to. Maybe she ought to run back inside and put on some jeans.

Headlights on the main road caught her attention as she stood next to her car deciding what to do. Jeans were about to win out when the white truck slowed down and then pulled into the driveway. It rolled up next to her, window sliding down to reveal Jase. He smiled.

“Can I offer you a ride?”

She pursed her lips, holding back a grin. “I was thinking about going back in to change.”

“What for?”

“I might be a bit overdressed.”

“Lemme see.”

She pulled her coat open to reveal her dress. His reaction was subtle, but she hadn’t missed his eyes widening and lips parting the slightest bit. “You trying to pick up a man?”

“I already have a man.”

He angled his head. “Well, then I wouldn’t tell him you wore this out tonight without him present.”

Becca’s shoulders slumped and she let her coat fall shut. “I didn’t ask for your chauvinist opinion. I asked if I was overdressed. So, is it that bad?”

He chuckled. “No, it’s that good. Now come on, I’ll chase the men off you.” As he said it, he opened his door and got out. Lifting his arm, he offered his hand to help her carefully step around the front end of the truck, then opened the passenger door and helped her inside.

“Text Tim and tell him I drove you so he doesn’t worry when he sees your car.”

Becca figured it was a good idea so she did as he said while he walked back to the driver’s side. Within moments they were heading down the gravel road and making their way to the state highway that would lead them the thirty-minute drive to Manhattan, Kansas. Becca had driven this road a million times and knew it by heart, but right now that heart was beating overtime as she sat in the leather-and-cologne-scented cocoon of Jase Beckford’s truck.

“So have you met this Jonas guy?” he asked.

“No, I haven’t,” Becca replied. She glanced over, liking the sight of his profile lit up by the faint dash lights. “I didn’t even know Hannah was seeing someone until she called today. I assume you haven’t met him?”

Jase shifted in his seat and gripped the wheel a bit tighter, as she couldn’t help noticing. “Not really. Seen him from a distance a time or two when she stopped by for this or that. But we’ve never had a proper introduction.”

“So, is he good looking?” she asked, laughing when his head jerked back.

“Hell if I know.”

“Oh, come on. You can tell if another man is attractive or not. I won’t judge you if you say yes.”

He sighed. “I said I only saw him from a distance. But he’s . . . okay, I guess. He looks soft, though.”

It was Becca’s turn to laugh. “Soft? Like . . . fat?”

“No, just . . . I don’t know. Fragile. Not tough. Soft.”

“Sooo, the opposite of you, right?”

“Exactly.” He gave her a sexy little smirk, which had her grinning back.

“Well, not all guys can be high-quality in every way,” she said, glancing out her window. “Somebody has to appreciate the soft guys.”

“What about your guy. He high-quality in all the right ways?”

“Are you asking me if he’s soft?”

“Maybe.”

She considered that. Brian worked out regularly, lifted weights, but he wasn’t really . . . tough. “I don’t know. He’s . . . medium density.”

“What does that mean?” Jase asked, sounding amused.

“Well . . . he’s fit. Has some muscles, but if presented with an opportunity to fight, he’d probably take a rain check.”

“Ah, I see. He’s preppy fit.”

“Meaning?”

“Oh, come on. You know exactly what I mean. Lives a lifestyle that requires a gym membership to maintain his abs. No day-to-day manual labor is expected of him.”

When she didn’t reply—only stared at him—he stole a quick glance at her. “Am I right?”

“You’re exactly right. But there’s nothing wrong with that. There are plenty of desk jobs that need to be filled. Important ones.”

Jase was grinning as he said, “I won’t argue with you about that. Takes all kinds to make the world go around. He make good money? I’m sure for you that makes up for the lack of toughness.”

She was a little shocked at his interest in Brian. “He does okay, I guess. He works a lot, so if you broke it down into an hourly rate, I’m sure it’s not as impressive as it sounds.”

“Long hours are a man’s lot in life.”

Becca choked out a laugh. “Please. Never-ending hours are a woman’s lot in life, especially once she has children. Don’t even get me started. And I don’t really like the way you implied his money was what would matter to me.”

He put his hands up in front of him. “Okay, okay. Christ. I’ll tell you what my lot in life is, to be nagged by Walters women, and I’m not even married to either one of them.” He was teasing her, she could tell by the lopsided smile on his face.

She laughed, trying to get back to the fun, easygoing conversation they’d been having before things got weird. “Not for lack of wishing.” The minute the words left her lips, she froze, her eyes glued to the windshield in front of her. Why had she just said that? Had he caught it? She glanced over at him. “I mean . . . obviously Hannah always had a thing. For you. I mean, you guys still . . . have a thing.”

“Nah, we definitely don’t have a thing.”

The ride was awkwardly silent the rest of the trip, and she couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking about.

Finally, they pulled into the Belfry, which appeared to be in a former grocery store if she thought back to the last time she’d been here, about ten years ago. In the Midwest, if a building sat empty too long, it ran the risk of becoming a country bar with a big wooden dance floor.

“I really expected a place called the Belfry to . . .”

“Have a belfry?” he finished for her.

“Yeah. I figured it would be in a church or something.”

“This place is probably owned by a millennial. No use trying to understand their thought process,” Jase said, stepping down out of the truck.

When he opened her door, she responded, “Aren’t you technically a millennial?”

He held out a hand to her, and she stepped out of the truck.

“I am. But I’m tough, remember? It’s just the softies you have to worry about.”

Becca rolled her eyes but laughed quietly as he shut the door behind her. He had an ego as big as his biceps, something she’d always known but had forgotten. Thankfully, he was also a gentleman, so he offered her his arm to help her through the icy parking lot.

A few people lingered at the front door smoking and waiting to get in, and Jase eased Becca’s arm out of his so they could both pull out their IDs for the doorman. Once inside, Becca glanced around. The place was crowded, most tables occupied. She didn’t see her sister anywhere, and the band onstage was playing some moody piece that she didn’t recognize. She wondered if the man singing was Jonas.

“Shall we get a drink?” Jase asked, nodding toward the bustling bar.

“Sure,” Becca said. “Do you see Hannah?”

“Not yet.”

It wasn’t long before they both had a beer and were back to glancing around the room. “Let’s just find a seat and—”

“It’s my favorites!” an excited voice called from behind them. Becca and Jase both turned in time for Hannah to throw up her arms and pull them into a group hug. Becca held her full beer bottle out to the side, hoping to keep it from sloshing. Hannah pulled back and then gave Jase his own personal hug, her arms naturally slipping around his waist—inside his coat. Becca watched as Jase placed his free hand on the side of her face and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

Becca looked away, facing the band that was obviously finishing up their set. Jase and Hannah had always been like that, walking the line between affectionate siblings and needing a room. And after all these years, and even though she was hoping for that engagement ring for Christmas, it still managed to frustrate Becca.

Even worse, the same old raging jealousy was there. She’d liked Jase first. Had made it very clear, and she’d always been afraid that had been the catalyst for Hannah’s obsession—her need for attention. It would have killed her if Jase had shown Becca favor, so she’d made it her mission to have him all for herself. For some idiotic reason, he’d let her get away with that, and all through high school they’d been this weird couple thing. It wasn’t that they dated necessarily, but most guys knew that Hannah was Jase’s. That hadn’t stopped her sister from making out with guys from other schools, and it had always annoyed Jase when she did. To this day, Becca could not understand his weakness for her twin. It wasn’t that Hannah was a bad person; she just liked having all the attention. One would have really hoped she’d grown out of that by now.

“I’m so glad you came,” Hannah said, looping through her arm through Becca’s. She began to lead them through the maze of tables, up closer to where the band on stage was finishing up. When they got to an empty table marked RESERVED, Hannah stopped and turned to Becca. “I can’t wait for you to meet Jonas. His band plays next.”

“I can’t wait, either,” Becca said, taking off her coat. Instead of answering, Hannah’s eyes ran up and down Becca’s dress.

“Holy shit, you look hot. Did you and Brian break up?”

Becca frowned. “No. Why?”

Hannah laughed, glancing at Jase. “That’s a getting-lucky dress. Am I right?”

“I tried to tell her,” he said.

Becca scowled at Jase, who was sitting down beside her. “You also told me not to change!”

He shrugged, a grin sliding across his lips. “I was being selfish.”

Their eyes met, and Becca swore he gave her a little wink as he took a pull of his beer. She glanced back up at Hannah, who was still standing, staring at the two of them. The bar’s speakers had begun playing country music in between bands so the place had a different feel to it now, but at least they could hear one another better.

“Well . . .” Hannah started. “You better beat off the creepers that she attracts in that dress, Jase. Remember, she’s got a boyfriend.” Hannah smiled. “I’ll be back. Going to get a drink before they start.”

Becca let out a breath as her sister walked away. She loved Hannah, she really did. When there was no masculine competition around, they got along great. She had plenty of amazing memories of the two of them during holidays, vacations, weekend trips to visit each other during college. But the Jase thing had always caused a strain, and Becca just couldn’t understand why Hannah needed to have him all to herself. Or why he’d chosen only Hannah to give all his attention to. It wasn’t that Jase had been rude to Becca, but throughout their adolescent years he’d been—indifferent, and that had almost hurt worse than if he’d been an asshole. At least then she’d have had a good reason to hate him.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Jase said to Becca’s left.

She jerked her gaze in his direction. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. I can tell you’re irritated. Brush it off.”

Becca’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not irritated,” she said. But he was right. Damn it.

He glared at her—although it was playful. Then he leaned his elbow on to the table, his face turned toward her. “You Walters women wear your emotions all over your face.” He reached up and touched her shoulder. “And right here. No hiding your emotions from me.”

“Whatever,” Becca said. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of looking impressed. He was good, but he wasn’t that good. Because if he she couldn’t hide her emotions from him, then he would have known all along how in love with him she was.