“You said a few things.” Ash grunted as he dropped the box of dishes atop the stack he’d already carried in. “Your definition and my definition of a few are very different.”

“Not everyone is a minimalist, Shepherd.” Jesse rinsed a glass and placed it on the towel with the others to dry. The apartment came with a dishwasher, but she hadn’t gotten around to buying the soap for it yet. “This is just the basics.”

“The basics for a small army.” Pressing his hands to his lower back, he groaned with a stretch. “Thankfully, there are only two boxes left.”

“One,” Dana said as she lowered a box to the floor beside the stack. “I got the one full of blankets and left the pots and pans for you.”

Jesse tried not to laugh as her friend flashed an innocent smile.

Ash cast them both an impatient glare. “I used to like you, Mills.”

He lifted the hem of his Titans T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow, and Jesse nearly dropped the glass in her hand. Good Lord, the man was hot. Due to daily rehearsals with the academy kids, they hadn’t seen each other outside of the studio until today. And though Ash didn’t know it yet, she planned to make this an extended visit.

“She and I carried the couch,” Jesse reminded him. It wasn’t as if they’d left all the heavy lifting to him.

“And who do you think helped her get all this crap into the storage unit?” Dana said. “That was me. Who were you dating back then?” she asked Jesse. “All I remember is that he bailed on us at the last minute.”

Sadly, Jesse had to scroll her memory banks to find the answer. “That was probably Ned. He was a master at avoiding manual labor.”

“Ned who?” Ash asked.

“Ned Berman. Do you know him?”

He snorted. “Yeah. He’s a roadie. His job is nothing but manual labor.”

The irony still amazed her. “That might be the case, but when he was off the clock, he’d barely pick up the mail.”

Dana grabbed her jacket off the arm of the sofa. “I hate to leave you with all of the unpacking, but I promised Ingrid I’d pick her up at six. She’s got her master lights on the shoot with her today, and those don’t fit in her car.”

“I owe you,” Jesse declared, wrapping her in a hug. “As soon as I get this place set up, y’all have to come over for dinner.” When Dana cringed, she added, “Don’t worry. I’ll order out.”

“Then count us in.” To Ash, she said, “Thanks for helping out today. It’s about time Jesse had a man in her life willing to step up.”

Grimace easing, he nodded in recognition of the compliment. “Not a problem.”

As Dana closed the door behind her, Ash pulled Jesse in close. “I thought she’d never leave.”

His scent surrounded her as he nuzzled her neck, and Jesse held her breath. Pushing him away, she retrieved a few essentials from the box near the bathroom door. Handing over a towel, a wash cloth, and a bottle of body wash, she said, “You need to use these.”

“I don’t have a change of clothes,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “If you’re goal is to get me naked, all you have to do is ask.”

That was her ultimate goal for the evening, but there was one more thing Jesse had to do first. “Technically, you do, since I stole that outfit I wore the night I showed up at your house in the rain. But, the point here is that I will not be getting naked until you smell better.”

Message received, Ash dropped a quick kiss on her cheek and darted into the bathroom. Knowing what condition he’d be in when the moving was done, Jesse had hung her new shower curtain an hour before. The black and white number had been on sale, and she’d even found matching rugs.

With a deep breath, she braced herself for what came next. Despite the fact that her parents rarely checked on her, Jesse had long felt an obligation to at least keep them informed on where to find her. After the breakup with Ryan, she’d called home to explain that she’d be staying at Dana’s while searching for her own place.

In typical fashion, Enid Rheingold had been only half interested and hadn’t even asked if Jesse was okay or needed to talk. Instead, she’d given a pat, “Thanks for letting us know,” response before sharing the details of the memorial service they were planning for Tommy for the tenth anniversary of his death.

They held the same service every year, and every year it was like revisiting his funeral all over again. The condolences. The crying. Enid in head-to-toe black.

Jesse had loved her brother more than anything, but she wanted to celebrate his life, not his death. Tommy had possessed a smile that could light up a stadium, and he’d rather have a ball field or a scholarship named after him than a somber annual remembrance.

And still, she’d agreed to be there, as she did every year. Because for better or worse, her parents were the only family Jesse had left. Though there would be one more face at the service this year, and that’s what this phone call was about.

Pulling up her contacts, Jesse’s thumb lingered over the phone number that had been connected to the Rheingolds since before she was born, but she didn’t touch the screen. For this, she needed fortification. Part of Ash’s official payment for the day included a six-pack of Music City Light. Jesse snagged one from the fridge, popped the top, and took a long swig for courage.

Now she made the call, and her father picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?” he said, louder than necessary, as if the lines of communication still involved a can and some string.

“Hey, Daddy.”

“Oh. Hello, Jesse.” The enthusiasm was overwhelming. “How are things in Nashville?”

“Good. I moved into my own place today.”

“You moved? What was wrong with your old place?”

In other words, Enid hadn’t bothered to share the change in Jesse’s relationship status. “That was Ryan’s place. Since we broke up, I had to find my own apartment.”

“Ryan?”

Digging deep for patience, she said, “You met him last Christmas, Daddy.”

A grunt came down the line. “I can’t keep track of all the boys you see. Do you want to talk to your mama?”

The hand off happened every time. “Yes, please.”

“All right.” His voice became muffled as he yelled for his wife, and seconds later the phone changed hands.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mama.”

“Oh,” she said in the same tone her husband had. “Vince, you could have told me who it was.” Incoherent grumbling followed, and Jesse rolled her eyes. “Well? Are you all moved in?”

“I am. Did you not tell Daddy that Ryan and I broke up?”

“I’m sure I did, but you know your father. He never listens to a word I say.” Jesse didn’t blame him. “We had some rain today. Did your things get wet?”

Unwilling to explain to her mother how weather worked, she got to the point of her call. “Mama, I want to talk to you about Tommy’s service this year.”

“Of course, honey,” Enid said with heightened interest. “We were thinking instead of you singing to that old recording that we’d get Lydia Sue Grenville to play the organ.”

“That’s fine, Mama. But I wanted to let you know that I’ll be bringing someone with me this time.”

“I’m not surprised you have another beau already. You rarely set one aside without having another already in the web.”

She made it sound as if Jesse’s love life worked like an assembly line with another coming down the belt right behind the last. If Jesse was being honest, that wasn’t far off, but those days were behind her.

“This time it’s someone you know.”

Instantly suspicious, Enid said, “Who?”

Closing her eyes, Jesse answered, “Ash Shepherd.”

The line went silent except for the sounds of Jeopardy playing loudly in the background.

“Mama?”

“No.”

“Mama, you—”

“Jessica Marie Rheingold, you will not bring that boy anywhere near this family. Do you hear me?”

“Do you hear yourself?” she exclaimed. “Tommy loved Ash like a brother, and he’d be furious to know how you cut him out of our lives. He was hurting, too, and you turned him away. How could you have done that?”

Voice tight, she growled, “That boy killed my son.”

“No, Mama. Tommy’s death was an accident. We’ve been over this many times. There was a deer—”

“I said he isn’t welcome, and that’s the end of it.”

Searching for a way to reach her, Jesse said, “What if it had been me? What if I’d been driving that night, Mama? Would you have tossed me away like you did Ash? Would you have refused to speak to me ever again?”

“It wasn’t you.”

“But it could have been. Or it could have been Tommy driving and Ash who’d died. Would you have called your son a killer because of an accident?” When no answer came, she said, “He loved him as much as we did, Mama. And he still hasn’t forgiven himself. That’s only going to happen if you forgive him first.”

Still no response and the muted sounds from the television were the only way Jesse knew her mother hadn’t hung up. Finally, Enid said, “I don’t think I can do that.”

“Try,” Jesse pleaded. “Do it for Tommy. You know it’s what he’d want.”

After a brief hesitation, she said, “I need to go. The burgers are on the stove, and you know your father likes his rare.”

Knowing she’d done all she could, Jesse sighed. “I’ll text my new address to your cell phone.”

“That’s fine,” came back in clipped tones before the call went dead.

Jesse shoved three boxes out of the way to reach the sofa, and then collapsed onto the faded blue cushions. She hadn’t tried to reason with her mother in years. Not since the week after her college graduation when she’d insisted on moving to Nashville. That battle had been won only because Jesse had given them no choice. She was going with or without their support, and in the end, they’d conceded. Not enough to help her move or to visit more than once a year, but enough to send a small monthly stipend until she’d found her footing.

Where she’d gotten the idea that they might have mellowed on this particular subject, Jesse didn’t know. Clearly, she’d suffered some delusional optimism brought on by temporary insanity. That was the only explanation.

Ash stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel, expecting to find Jesse still unpacking, but the kitchen was empty. A few boxes had been moved, but there was no other sign of activity.

“Jesse?” he called.

“I’m in here,” came a voice from the bedroom.

Stepping back into the bathroom, he crossed to the opposite door, which led into a large closet and eventually into the bedroom. It was an odd setup, but convenient for both Jesse and her guests.

He found her wrestling with the heavy box spring. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she said with a grunt. “I’m trying to put the bed together.”

Rushing into action, Ash caught the box spring seconds before it landed on top of her. “You should have waited for me.”

“I’m not helpless,” Jesse argued, pushing on the contraption with her shoulder and getting nowhere.

Ash grasped one end and said, “Grab that side and we’ll lower it straight down onto the rails.”

Rails she’d managed to assemble single-handedly while he showered, proving her previous statement. Once the box spring was in place, he reached for the mattress, but she held up a hand. “I need to put the bed skirt on first.”

Waiting patiently, Ash watched her unzip clear plastic packaging and dump the contents onto the floor. Tossing stray pieces of cardboard aside, she came up with the dark purple skirt and tossed it over the flat surface of the box spring.

“Fix that corner, please.”

He did as asked.

“Okay,” she said. “Now the mattress.”

They worked together to lower the bulky piece into place, and then Jesse went to work applying the sheets.

“Don’t you need to wash those first?”

She froze. “I should, shouldn’t I?”

When Jesse was thirteen, she’d slept with a brand-new, unwashed blanket and wound up with hives from her shoulders to her ankles. He’d never forget how miserable she was that day, and Ash had other activities in mind for this evening that did not include an emergency dose of Benadryl.

Remembering the box Dana had carried in before she left, Ash said, “Hold on.”

A quick dash to the living room and he was back with the box. “How long did you say these have been in storage?”

“Those are fresh from Ingrid. She has so many blankets that she insisted I take some.”

Then they were all set. Ash pulled a beige number off the top and tossed it over the bed before reaching in for the next one down, a comforter covered in penguins wearing raincoats.

“Why would penguins need raincoats?” he asked as he threw it over the other.

“I have no idea and don’t care so long as they keep me warm.” She rubbed her hands together. “The heater doesn’t seem to be doing much.”

Ash took that as his cue and closed the distance between them. “Guess we’ll have to rely on body heat.”

As if just noticing his limited attire, Jesse said, “You aren’t wearing any clothes, Mr. Shepherd.”

Sliding his hands over her hips, he muttered, “And you’re wearing too many, Ms. Rheingold.” Like a switch, her expression changed. “What’s the matter?”

Jesse shook her head. “That name throws me off, that’s all.”

She may have taken on a stage name, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d grown up as a Rheingold.

“I’m sorry, hon, but you’re always going to be Jesse Rheingold to me.” Ash brushed a loose lock off her forehead. “She’s the girl I fell for.”

“I know, but that name reminds me of my parents.”

Not where he wanted her mind to go right now. “Point taken.”

With a huff, she plopped onto her back on the bed and threw an arm over her eyes. “I called them.”

Uncertain where this detour was leading, Ash sat down beside her. “Okay.”

“I told them that I was bringing you to Tommy’s memorial service next month.”

And the fog cleared. “I doubt that went over well, but first, what memorial service?”

Jesse sat up. “Every year on the anniversary of the accident, Mama organizes this depressing service to remember him.” Eyes on her hands, she added, “It’s like attending the funeral all over again. I hate it, but I can’t not go.”

Ash cringed, certain that Tommy would despise such a ceremony. But if her parents needed an annual service to honor their lost son, then he didn’t begrudge them the tradition.

“Just because I’m back in your life doesn’t mean they’re going to suddenly want me back in theirs.”

“But they need to let this go,” Jesse said. “What if we get married? Are they going to refuse to come?”

Ash would be happy to take that walk down the aisle with Jesse and doubted anything would change his mind—since nothing had in the last ten years—but they had a ways to go before she needed to start stressing about that particular issue.

“They might, but how about we focus on us right now?” Tugging on her shirt, he murmured, “I’m trying to warm you up, remember?”

Eyes dropping to his mouth, she whispered, “I don’t want anything to mess this up.”

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, Ash reached around and pulled her ponytail free. “I told you. I’m never leaving you again.” He held her gaze, willing her to hear him. “I love you, Jesse.”

Sliding her arms around his neck, she said, “I love you, too.”