Andrew had not kissed a woman in quite a long time, just like Becca. His heartbeat raced, and the feel of her in his arms brought him so much comfort. It seemed strange that he’d met her less than a week ago, and here he stood in her house, kissing her.

And kissing her, and kissing her.

He finally came to his senses and pulled away, wanting to be a gentleman but also needing her to know how much he liked her without having to put it into words.

Becca tucked herself against his chest and they faced the window together as the last of the sunlight disappeared. He liked that she fed strays, that she had a kind heart for those in need, whether human or feline or canine. Or whatever raccoons were.

“Okay, so I better go,” he finally said with a sigh. “Your second day isn’t going to be any easier than the first.”

She walked him to the door, slid her hands over his shoulders, and smiled at him in a slightly woozy way. She was tired, but Andrew couldn’t help kissing her one last time before ducking out into the night.

He felt the exhaustion pulling through him too, and the thought of getting up early in the morning to feed the horses made him cranky as he drove back to the lodge. So did the dark windows. Even the strip at the bottom of Bree’s door was black, and Andrew entered his own room, finding that he wanted to talk with someone about his relationship with Becca.

When he’d dated in high school, he used to sit up with his mother, and he could practically hear what she’d tell him.

Is she nice, Andrew?

Are you being nice to her?

What are you worried about?

Andrew brushed his teeth, admitting to himself that he was worried about how he could manage everything at work—including Becca—without anyone finding out that he’d kissed her. There were already a million little pieces and details to be managed, and he was bound to forget something.

But he couldn’t forget to sleep, so he crawled into bed and fell into unconsciousness with the taste of Becca still in his mouth.

The next day, she once again arrived at the office before he did. He caught sight of her sitting at her desk as he went next door. “Morning,” he called, flinging his hand out in a haphazard wave.

He didn’t stop walking, so he hit his hand on the doorframe as he entered his office. “Ow!” Frustration and humiliation raced through him simultaneously, and he ignored Carla’s call asking if he was okay.

The hours at work passed quicker than ever, as if God wanted to test Andrew to see if he could meet the October first deadline for the reveal. Becca was a huge help, because she learned quickly, worked as hard as he did, and asked questions he hadn’t considered.

He spent every evening with her as they sampled the cuisine from a different restaurant each night. On Saturday, he fed the horses and promised Wolfgang he’d be back to ride tomorrow, then he zipped down into town to have lunch with his mother.

He hadn’t brought up Admiral Church, and he wasn’t the only one at lunch. The whole family—minus Eli in California—was there, as if it were their Saturday night dinner tradition. He wanted to ask his mom about this Admiral guy despite Beau’s assurances that he was a good man.

When he walked into the house, it was clear he was the last to arrive and that lunch was about to be served. His mom stood in front of a Crock pot with a fork and a bottle of barbecue sauce.

“Hey, Ma,” he said, stepping up to her and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Pulled pork sandwiches?” His stomach growled.

“There you are. I just asked Beau to text you to see if you were coming.” She glanced up at him, and it was like looking into his own eyes. “He thought you might be working today.”

“Not today,” he said, though he had loads of items still on his to-do list at work. “Maybe next weekend though.”

“Laney, we’re ready.”

She stood from the table and left her phone, which she’d been looking at. She stepped over to the back door and opened it, calling, “Graham! Bailey! Time for lunch.”

“What can I do to help?” Andrew asked.

“Go sit.” She lifted the pot out of the heater and took it to the table. Andrew followed with the buns and as they passed, she added, “And don’t ask me about my date tonight.” She looked at him sternly, and Andrew tossed the buns on the table beside the meat.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, I think that says something.”

She walked over to the edge of the kitchen and said, “Beau, lunch,” and turned back. “We haven’t even gone out yet.”

“But you said yes, Mom. So you must see something you like.” Even the thought of his mother kissing Admiral the way he had Becca…. Andrew shook his head, needing that image out of his head.

“He’s a nice guy,” she said.

“Who is?” Beau asked.

“No one,” she said at the same time Andrew said, “Admiral Church.”

“I told you not to ask her about it.”

“I didn’t. She brought him up.” Andrew gave his brother a glare as Graham entered the house with a burst of laughter, his step-daughter right behind him.

“Graham, will you say grace?” Andrew’s mother moved away from Andrew and Beau and took a seat at the table.

“What did I interrupt?” he asked, switching his gaze from person to person.

“Nothing,” Andrew said as he turned away from Beau’s unhappy expression.

“Laney?”

“Your mother’s date tonight.”

Graham pulled a chair out directly across from their mother. “You have a date tonight?” His tone was one of incredulous surprise.

“Thank you,” Andrew said triumphantly. He reached for the bowl of macaroni salad. “I think it says something that you didn’t tell any of us, Mom.”

“It doesn’t say anything.” She swatted his hand. “Graham’s going to say grace.”

Graham waited for Beau to join them, then he thanked the Lord for their food, their family, the weather, and Coral Canyon.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Graham asked as if the conversation about their mother’s date hadn’t stopped.

“Because.” She sighed and took the twist tie off the bag of buns. “It’s my first date since your dad died, and I thought you might react this way.” She gave Andrew specifically a glare. “And I’m not sure how I feel about it, or if it will even turn into anything. I guess I didn’t see the point.”

Graham didn’t say anything as he loaded his bun with twice the amount of meat it needed. Beau likewise continued filling his plate with food. Andrew didn’t have to understand her reasons to accept them, so he said, “Fair enough.”

“Why don’t you tell them about your press secretary?” Graham asked, and Andrew choked on his forkful of macaroni salad. Horror sang through him as he stared at his oldest brother. Heat rose through him, and there was no way his face wasn’t bright red.

“Nothing to tell,” he said after clearing his airway of the offending noodles.

Beau started laughing, which grated against Andrew’s nerves. “Oh, I believe him. Don’t you, Mom?”

“I’m sure if Andrew has something to tell us, he will.”

Andrew had never loved his mother more, and he regretted his ire with her for keeping her date a secret. He simply hadn’t known she even wanted to date again, and most days, he did just fine without missing his father too much.

But sometimes, the fact that his dad wasn’t there hit him hard, and he spent quite a while thinking about fishing with his dad, and the times on the lake, or lessons he taught as they worked cutting tree limbs or ridding the lawn of weeds.

He’d eaten half his sandwich before Beau said, “Lindsey saw you getting quite a huge order from the deli a couple of nights ago.”

“So?” Andrew asked. “Is it a crime to eat two sandwiches for dinner? I work over ten hours a day.”

Beau did too, but he simply smiled as if he knew the vegetarian delight had been for Becca, and that Andrew had stayed at her place until almost midnight before he’d trudged on back to the lodge.

But it somehow felt bigger and more empty than ever, and he didn’t like being there alone.

“Eli’s coming for Christmas,” his mother said, and that got Andrew’s attention.

“Are we doing the tree lighting?” he asked. Graham had started the tradition two years ago, and it somehow meant a lot to Andrew.

“You live at the lodge,” Graham said. “It’s up to you.”

“I’ll make sure I figure it out,” he said. “I’ll be gone for three weeks in October.”

“You’ll still have two months before Christmas,” Beau said. “How hard is it to flip a switch?”

“Beau,” his mother chastised. “It’s more than that, and you know it. He has to get the tree, decorate it, arrange dinner with Celia, the gift exchange.”

Andrew’s head hurt just thinking about making more plans, for another big event. But this was his family, and he wanted them all at the lodge with him. “I’ll make it happen,” he said. “And I’ll make sure to tell Bree not to overbook us.”

“I’ll come up for Christmas Eve,” his mom said. “Beau?”

“We’ll see,” he said. “I’ve got a new case I should have started by then.”

“You won’t work it on Christmas Eve, will you?” Andrew asked.

“It’s a unique case,” Beau said evasively, and Andrew let it drop. He’d save a room for Beau too, who’d stayed last year.

He stayed quiet for the rest of lunch, his mind whirring about going out into the forest to chop down a Christmas tree with Becca. And then decorating the tree with hot chocolate sitting on the mantle—and Becca at his side. And their fabulous Christmas Eve dinner for friends and family after the tree lighting—and of course, Becca would be at that too.

He wasn’t going to see her that day, as they’d spent so many hours together both at work and in the evenings this week. But as lunch ended and everyone dispersed, he sat in his sensible sedan and sent her a message.

Want to go horseback riding today?