Jessa’s temples pulsed. After two hours of debate, the city council members still hadn’t reached a consensus. She had a spot on the council by way of her position at the chamber of commerce, but it was the one responsibility she wouldn’t mind giving up—at least for today.

The condition of Jasper Lake’s roadways caused today’s argument. In her opinion, they were fine and didn’t need improvements yet. Others argued that the town should petition the state for funds to repair them, as the added traffic from the detour had caused substantial wear. Another segment argued that since the increased traffic brought increased income, the town should increase business taxes to augment the infrastructure fund.

—Which is when the debate rose to a hotter level.

She didn’t care for politics, they didn’t interest her at all, but she had an obligation to the businesses who were chamber members to look out for their best interests. Reluctantly, she’d had to enter the conversation to pose that higher taxes would be an undue burden on the town’s establishments.

When someone made a motion to table the debate until the next meeting and Gabe Delong seconded it, Jessa almost pumped a fist in the air with glee. When Maxine Tatrem, the city council president, rang the gavel and ended the meeting, Jessa shoved her notes into a folder and rushed out of the building.

Oxygen pumped into her blood, and the fresh, brisk air eased the tension in her head. She took her time walking the five hundred feet from city hall to the chamber office. Good, no one is outside waiting for me. Her head needed more time to clear before she entered into more human interaction. She pulled out her phone to check the time—close enough to her lunch break.

She’d check her messages then go to lunch. Raising her key to the lock, she noticed the lights on inside. The door opened without her unlocking it. It took her several seconds to remember that Rachel, her secretary, came in today. Her normal days were Tuesday and Thursdays, but she’d missed yesterday because her daughter had been home sick.

“Hi, Rach,” she called out from the front.

Rachel lifted her gaze from the computer. “How was the meeting?”

“Don’t ask.” She plopped into a wooden chair near the desk. “I really thought my head would explode.”

“I’m guessing you all didn’t come to a resolution?”

“Nope.” She reached over the L-shaped desk she shared with Rachel and grabbed the thermos from her side, swallowed a large gulp. The water she’d poured that morning was still ice cold, and she took another drink. She hadn’t realized how dry her mouth was. “In my opinion, the state should pay for any damage to the road, but I don’t know the legalities and logistics of that. It’s above my pay grade.”

“Mine too.” Rachel tossed her a foil-wrapped candy. “Have some chocolate.”

“Gladly.” She caught the miniature peanut butter cup midair and unwrapped it. “Can I make an entire lunch out of these?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Hey, I had just broken up with Chris and needed comfort.” Her lips involuntarily curled upward—she could laugh about it now. “So what if I found that comfort in a bag of sugar. Every calorie was worth it. Every. Single. One.”

“Whatever happened to him?” Rachel took a candy for herself and popped it in her mouth.

“Don’t know. We talked a few times after he moved to Chicago, but then we lost touch.”

“Good riddance.”

“He wasn’t that bad. We simply wanted different things out of life.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Are you forgetting that he never missed the opportunity to insult small-town life?”

Jessa cringed. “Hindsight’s always twenty-twenty. I blocked it out while we were dating, and when I did notice, gave him a pass because he was charming.”

“I want it known that I never said, ‘I told you so’ despite the fact I had warned you.” She ducked her head and laughed when Jessa threw a crumpled ball of foil at her.

“You just did.” Leaning back in the chair, Jessa released a round of laughter. Only true friends could tease each other about their failures without getting offended, and Rachel was one such. They’d known each other since grade school, although their friendship didn’t bloom until they played together on the volleyball team during high school. “What are you doing for lunch?”

“Brown-bagging it today.”

“Want to save it for tomorrow and join me at the diner?”

Rachel shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m trying to save money. My car needs new tires in the next month, and my bank account is in denial.”

“I can talk to the board about adding a few extra hours.”

“Neal said he’ll ask his boss for some.”

“You married a good one.” Jessa left the chair and hooked her purse over her shoulder. “Your relationship with him sets the bar high for the rest of us.”

A snicker escaped from Rachel. “Don’t tell him that. His head is big enough already.”

“Not as big as his heart for you.” Jessa smiled at her good friend and co-worker. Rachel and Neal’s relationship wasn’t perfect—nobody’s was—but they were a prime example of a couple who had married right out of high school and defied the odds. Ten years and three kids later, they were as much in love as the day they married, if not more. “Want me to bring you back anything? My treat.”

“I’m good. I have my dessert.” Rachel plucked another chocolate from the bag to emphasize her point.

“I’ll be back in a bit. Call my cell if anything comes up.” Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d skipped breakfast. She should have grabbed a cinnamon roll at the meeting.

She left her office and walked in the direction of Tippy’s Diner. Her mouth watered for a chicken salad croissant. She could taste the sweet pickles that set the sandwich above others.

“Watch out.” A disembodied voice called out to her, and a hand clutched her arm and pulled her aside in the nick of time to avoid a collision with a bicyclist. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She turned to see the owner of the vaguely familiar voice. Her pulse skipped a beat. “Landon?”

A short smile curved his mouth. “You remember me.”

“I have a knack for it.” She glanced at the man on the bike, several hundred feet away already. “Thanks for the save. I was lost in thought and didn’t see him.”

“He should have paid better attention. I doubt he saw you either.” A scowl came over his face. “There’s no personal responsibility left in this world.”

His gruffness surprised her. He’d seemed so easy-going the first time she’d met him. “Accidents happen.”

“At least you’re okay.” His expression softened. “Off work today?”

“Lunch break.”

“Mind if I join you?” He flicked his gaze in the direction of the chamber’s office. “I was on my way to the bed and breakfast, and if things didn’t work out, back to your office for more suggestions.”

Just say no. You don’t know him from Adam. But she couldn’t ignore the sudden giddiness sprouting in her chest. “Sure. I’m on my way to the diner. There aren’t too many places to eat within walking distance of the office, but the food’s always good there.”

“Anything is better than the self-serve convenience store hotdogs I’ve been living on lately.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “It’s quick and easy. When I’m on the road, I’m not one to sit and eat a meal.”

“Today’s the exception?”

“If it means lunch with a friendly face, then yes.” His jaw tensed then relaxed. “It’s been a rough week.”

“I’ve been told I’m a good listener if you need an ear.” She stepped forward, leading the way to the diner.

“Thanks, but I won’t bore you with my family drama.” He answered with a casualness that made her think it couldn’t be that bad.

“We all have some.” Like a brother in jail for a DUI.

“True, but I’ve recently become the black sheep of the family.”

She took long strides to keep up with him. “How so?”

“I said I wouldn’t bore you.” He patted his rear pants pocket and pursed his lips. “I left my wallet in the truck. Can I meet you at the diner?”

Without asking, she knew exactly where he parked. “I can walk with you. You’re in the vacant lot behind the library, right?”

His brows arched. “How’d you know?”

“There are only two lots right in town that can accommodate eighteen-wheelers, and the other one is on the far end. I didn’t figure you’d park there to come to the chamber of commerce.”

“I guess you would know that.”

She pointed to a path leading to a slight incline. “If we cut through here, it will shave off a few extra steps.”

When they got to his rig, Landon climbed up the galvanized steel steps and swung into the cab like it wasn’t a pickup on steroids. He exited a second later, sliding his wallet into his pocket while he lowered himself to the ground.

“What’s it like, driving a massive vehicle?” She stared at the enormous truck, admiring the metallic black paint job.

“Not much different than any other once you get used to it.” He grinned. “Except it has a lot more power and is a pain to park in tight spots.”

“I’d fail.” She laughed at herself, then explained. “The first vehicle I bought on my own was an SUV, but after I backed into my third mailbox, I accepted that I stink at parking large vehicles and traded it in for a car.”

His forehead crinkled into creases, assuming a doubting expression. “For real?”

She scrunched her face. “Sad but true.”

“Remind me not to get in any vehicle with you behind the wheel.”

“I’m fine as long as it’s a small car.” Breaking into a gait, she gestured for him to follow.” “I blame it on a lack of depth perception.”

“Sure.” He drew the word out, once again expressing disbelief, but his eyes sparkled. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Did you decide where to take your grandmother?” After she’d asked the question, she wished she hadn’t. Was it weird to remember every detail of a conversation held two months ago with someone she’d never met?

Then again, he’d remembered her and invited himself to lunch, so if anything, their weirdness quotient was even.

“Yes, but I’m not sure it will work out.”

“Why not?”

“I presented her with the surprise weekend getaway last week, but she won’t accept it without conditions.” They reached the diner, and he held the door open for her.

“That’s…” She trailed off before she insulted his family. He obviously loved his grandmother, and it wasn’t her place to judge the situation.

“Rude,” he finished for her. “It goes against everything Gran ever taught me, but in her defense, she has good intentions.” He paused. “The problem is, I don’t happen to agree with her.”

“What has to happen for her to come?”

“I have to invite my parents.” It sounded like he choked on the words. The taut line of his cheekbones confirmed the idea disgusted him.

“I’m guessing that’s where the drama comes from?”

He nodded. “Like I said, it’s a long story.”

“Did you do it?”

“Invite them?”

“Yes.” A booth along the left wall opened, and she moved toward it.

“Unfortunately.” He let out a sardonic laugh. “I’d hoped, even prayed, they would decline so I could fulfill my obligation without having to spend a weekend with them.”

She stole a look at him before sliding into the seat, saw his eye twitch. “I guess that plan failed?”

“You have no idea.” He shook his head as he lowered himself on the bench across from her. “Not only did they agree, but they also took it as a sign of me wanting reconciliation now.”

“Would that be so bad?” She’d unwittingly instigated a game of twenty questions. Though naturally curious, she typically didn’t pry but sensed Landon needed an unbiased ear for venting.

Staring at his hands folded on the Formica tabletop, he didn’t say a word. After several seconds, he looked up and cleared his throat. “Unless you’ve lived my life, it’s hard to explain. Let’s just say I don’t trust them and never will, for good reason.”

“Fair enough.”

“What’s good here?” He craned his neck to look at the menu board on the back wall.

“Don’t pay attention to that. It hasn’t been updated in years.” She jutted her chin toward the approaching waitress. “Tilly will give you a menu. The burgers are good, and the chicken salad is to die for.”

“Good to see you, Jess. Who’s your friend?” Tilly dropped menus in front of them but not before giving Jessa a curious wink and Landon a devouring appraisal.

Great. The gossip mill will be running rampant before our meal arrives. Jessa smiled back without giving any indication of anything amiss. Because nothing is. I’m having lunch with a visitor who wants more information on Jasper Lake. “Tilly McClean, Landon Reeves. He’s arranging a little getaway for his grandmother.”

Landon nodded his head as means of greeting her. “Nice to meet you.”

She noticed he didn’t offer Tilly a normal handshake. Did he discern her blatant interest and knew it best to steer clear of her? Tilly was a sweet girl but made no secret that she had one goal in life—to find a husband.

“Where you from, handsome?” Tilly asked, pulling out an order pad.

“Pennsylvania, and I’d like an iced tea to drink, please.” He turned his attention to the menu, respectfully refusing her bait.

“One iced tea coming up.” Unfazed, Tilly turned to Jessa. “Your usual diet pop?”

“Yes please.” Once Tilly left, Jessa offered Landon a sympathetic smile. Her admiration for him grew as she’d watched him handle the situation with dignity. “You handled her well.”

“I’ve dealt with her type before. Harmless if you ignore them, but give them an inch, they’ll drag you along for a mile.”

She burst into laughter and used the napkin to dab the tears from her eyes. “You pegged her exactly right. She’s very sweet, but a bit too ambitious to find matrimonial bliss.”

“Which she won’t find in me. No one will.”

“You don’t believe in marriage?”

He squinted, contorted his mouth to a frown. “That’s a loaded question.”

Even without knowing the specifics of his story, she was receiving a clear picture that he’d suffered substantial hurt in his life. “Divorced?”

“Never been married.”

Tilly reappeared with their drinks, and her sudden smile said she’d heard his last comment. “Interesting.”

Landon looked directly at Tilly. “And I never plan to.”

“Lots of men say that, but they just haven’t found the right woman.”

Seeing Landon’s jaw clench, Jessa interrupted. “Any specials today?”

“The mini dog plate with your choice of toppings and a side of fries for six dollars. Add a fourth dog for only a dollar more.”

Her stomach revolted. “I’ll take the chicken salad on a croissant with a fruit cup as my side.”

“Always a good choice.” Tilly glanced at Landon, seeming to be deterred from sinking her hooks into Landon, at least temporarily. “And for you?”

“I’ll take the special with chili and cheese on top.” He handed her the menu.

“Would you like the extra dog?”

“No thanks.”

Once they were alone again, Landon looked at her. “Did I order the wrong thing? I saw your nose scrunch when I gave my order.”

“People rave about their mini dogs, say they’re the best.” She unwrapped her straw and set it in her cup. “I can’t eat hot dogs, not even small ones. When I was eight, I had two hot dogs at a church fair. That night I came down sick. Even though it turned out to be a nasty virus, I’ve always associated hot dogs with it and haven’t had one since.”

“I can’t eat coconut cream pie for the same reason. Fourth of July picnic for me.” He sipped his tea and swallowed. “It’s only been in the last few years I can eat anything with coconut.”

“Funny how those childhood memories stick with us.”

“If you only knew,” he mumbled.

The conversation began to frustrate her. Either he would share or he wouldn’t, but for the love of everything, she wished he’d stop alluding to whatever happened. That annoyed her.

You’re not being fair. You’re a stranger in his life, a brief interlude who happened to cross his path at a bad time in his life. He owes you no explanations. “When’s this trip you’re planning?”

“I’d made the reservations for the first weekend in November because that was the only available vacancies for the bed and breakfast.” He pushed his cup aside and sighed. “Now I’ll have to change the weekend or find a different place since we’ll be needing an extra room.”

“You can’t keep your original reservations and have your parents stay somewhere else?”

“Nope.” He drew a long breath, exhaled in slow motion. “Gran is taking this extremely serious and said that would be a cop-out—that nothing would be resolved if they stayed in a separate location.”

“Can I ask what your parents did to cause the rift?”

He snickered. “Rift is an understatement.” His gaze lingered out the window. His eyes clouded as emotions flickered through them. “They abandoned my siblings and me. We were just young kids when they decided they didn’t want the responsibility of us. Dropped us off at our grandparents, said good riddance, and parted ways.”

She fought to keep her jaw from dropping. “They really said ‘good riddance’?”

“Not in so many words, but they’re actions sure said it.” His fists coiled into tight balls. “I guess we were a novelty that wore off.”

“I’m sorry.” What else could she say?

“It is what it is.” He scratched his cheek then reached for his drink. “In a way, it worked out because we had a better life with Gran and Granddad. They gave us stability my parents never could have.”

“They say there’s a silver lining in everything.”

“I guess.” He quieted as Tilly approached with their orders.

Her stomach rumbled again. “Mind if I bless the food?”

“Go ahead. I usually do automatically but was distracted.” He closed his eyes and dipped his head.

She kept the prayer short and picked up her sandwich in the same breath she’d said amen. “I’m so hungry. Excuse my manners while I inhale this.”

A belly laugh roared from deep within Landon. “You’re not like most girls.”

“Is that good or bad?” She bit off the coveted first bite.

“Good.”

Warm butterflies flitted through her. “Thanks.”

Conversation stalled as they ate. At the end of the meal, Landon insisted on paying her share.

“You don’t have to do that,” she protested, trying to shove a ten-dollar bill in his hand.

“I appreciate the listening ear.” He swallowed, shifting his lips as though uncertain he should say more. “I don’t usually vent to strangers—anyone for that matter—and I’m afraid I’ve made a poor first impression.”

“Not at all. From all indications, you’ve had a lot on your shoulders.”

“Nevertheless, I’m grateful, and I enjoyed our lunch together. Let me treat.”

She could have resisted his perfect smile, but not his heartfelt thanks. “All right, but next time, I pay.”

He reached over the table to shake on it. “You’ve got a deal.”