What’s the best way to deal with a broken heart? Hang out with the guy’s grandmother and break your heart some more.

Right—that wasn’t the best advice, but it was exactly what I was doing.

Travis and I had returned from Napa Valley three days ago. Neither of us had talked about what happened the night the spider decided to be an unwelcome intruder. We had continued as if we hadn’t discussed Travis’s fear of losing someone he loved. And yes, that included having more incredible sex.

Why weren’t we currently working on the mural? Because we had finished it last night.

And since I hadn’t gotten my oven fixed…

“Have you thought of making sugar cookies and decorating them with little love sayings?” Fanny asked as I added chocolate chips to the cookie batter.

“You mean like those little candies?”

“Yes—but with longer sayings. Like ‘I just want to be yours,’ ‘Forever yours,’ and ‘You’re my new favorite feeling.’ You can cover the cookies with icing and then pipe the sayings on. My hands aren’t steady enough, but I bet you could easily do it.”

“Even though I know nothing about doing something like that?” I asked.

“Sweetheart, I’m sure you’ve heard of these little things called Google and YouTube. Great inventions. I’ve found all kinds of information on them.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” I said, and I meant it. “I could at least try it out and see how things go.”

Grinning, Fanny patted my hand. “That’s the attitude. Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations. You know, you really are something special, Emma.”

Right—that was kind of random. I didn’t mean the difficult roads part. That was just Fanny being Fanny. I meant the second part. She thought I was special because I’d agreed to make cookies with messages on them?

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she said and walked to her bedroom. She returned a minute later carrying a small box covered in blue velvet. “For years, I’ve wondered if Travis would find a woman who would make him happy. A woman who I’d be thrilled to call family. And I’ll admit I was getting worried when that wasn’t happening. Until you…”

Oh, no. Can’t we go back to discussing cookies?

“You’ve made Travis happy, Emma. And because of that, you’ve made me happy.” She opened the box to reveal a twisted gold pendant about an inch in length, with six small red gems and a bunch of smaller clear ones. “Those are diamonds and rubies,” Fanny said. “My sweet Robert gave it to me on our thirtieth wedding anniversary, even though it wasn’t our ruby anniversary. He didn’t believe in following tradition. He believed in following your heart.

“And since Travis has finally followed his heart, I’m giving you this for being the one willing to cherish it.” She handed me the box. Pesky tears clouded my vision.

How many people had ever given me a gift—if you didn’t count Hannah?

None—that was how many. Maybe there had been some when I was born but I didn’t remember any of those. I only remembered seeing kids at school showing off their birthday or Christmas or just-because presents. They were always so happy. And each time, for a brief moment, I had allowed myself to pretend it was me. That I was the one getting to show off my gifts.

And when I was younger and the teacher announced our birthdays to the class? I would lie about my presents because it was better to do that than to admit no one cared about me enough to remember my birthday.

Not even my foster homes had bothered to acknowledge it. Yes—I had won the lottery jackpot when it came to foster care parents. Not all were like that. Hannah had gotten lucky in some of her homes.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Fanny said, looking concerned.

I gave her a weak smile. “I’m sorry. It’s just I grew up in foster care. I’m not used to getting gifts.”

Fanny’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide. “I had no idea,” she said at the same time I said, “But I can’t accept it.”

Why couldn’t I? Because it would be wrong. She was giving it to me because she wanted so much to believe that Travis was in love with me. But he wasn’t—and would never be.

Lines creased on her forehead. “Why not? You’re like a granddaughter to me. I love you like a granddaughter.”

The tears came harder at that—because Fanny was the grandmother I’d never had. Or if I had a grandmother, she hadn’t bothered to track me down.

“Why do I have a feeling those aren’t happy tears?” Fanny said, looking even more confused. She stepped forward, her arms wide as if to hug me.

But I couldn’t let her hug me—not with all the lies Travis and I had told her about us being a couple. I didn’t deserve a gift or a hug.

What did I deserve? To sit on the platform in a dunk tank and have people toss baseballs at the target. At least the money could go to charity, so it wouldn’t be a complete loss.

“I’m not Travis’s girlfriend,” I said.

Her frown deepened. “What do you mean?” Then her eyes widened again. “You two broke up? When?” The compassion in her voice almost did me in.

I could lie and pretend that Travis and I broke up the other day, after our weekend in Napa. But I’d fibbed enough and couldn’t do it anymore…even if I was throwing Travis under a train. Maybe I could toss him a puck bunny or two to keep him company while I was at it.

“We were never together. We told you we were because Travis knew it would make you happy. All he wanted was for you to be happy.”

And yes, Travis was going to be beyond pissed at my telling her this. My brain pointed out this was a good thing, then after he’d finished yelling at me, he’d never want to see me again. And in time, I would be able to move on with my life.

My heart wished me luck with that; it had no intention of making things that easy for me.

“But he loves you, Emma. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

What do you know? Once his hockey career was over, he had a bright future ahead of him as an actor. He had to be good to have convinced his grandmother that he was in love.

Shaking my head, I lowered the box onto the counter. “Travis isn’t interested in falling in love.”

“It’s not about whether or not you want to fall in love. We don’t always have a say in the matter. It just happens because the heart knows what the heart knows. And there’s no arguing otherwise.”

Except in Travis’s case, even his heart didn’t want to fall in love. It didn’t wish to risk being damaged more than it already was.

I could relate.

“That doesn’t matter,” I told her. “He’s not interested.”

She studied me for a moment. “Are you interested in falling in love with someone?”

Falling? Try fallen—bruised butt and all.

Despite my deep-down fear of commitment—my way of protecting my heart from more pain—I had screwed up. I had let Travis in when I shouldn’t have. But was I willing to do that again with another man?

I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure if I wanted to fall in love again. There was only so much being kicked around that my heart could take.

I grabbed the spoon on the counter and scooped cookie dough from the bowl. “No,” I said as I dropped it onto the cookie sheet.

“Hmm.”

I dug the spoon back into the bowl, giving the task one hundred percent of my attention. Shit, why did I come here? At least if I hadn’t been baking cookies, I could have bailed.

Hello, awkwardness, my old friend.

What would make this more awkward? That’s right—Travis showing up.

I slapped my palm against my forehead. “Oh, I can’t believe I forgot. I have a meeting with my realtor.” I backed toward the hallway. “Do you…can you finish the cookies for me?”

Now that I had broken my part of the agreement with Travis, I would need to contact the realtor anyway. Fair was fair. I didn’t expect him to still help me now that Fanny knew the truth.

I grabbed my purse from the kitchen chair. Fanny followed me into the hallway.

“I can’t believe I’m so forgetful,” I said, hurrying toward the door. “I’m really sorry about that, but I’m sure Hazel and Abigail will be happy to eat them.”

“You don’t want us to bring them to the store tomorrow?”

More than anything I longed for her to do that, but it would be wrong. She wasn’t my grandmother and I had to stop wishing she were.

Maybe I could find a place that rented out grandmothers for the day, to help me move on.

Or maybe once I was kicked out of my store and had to begin all over again, I could create my own “grandmothers for hire” business for people like me.

“Or Travis can drop them off?” she suggested.

Right—because that was so much better. While he was at it, maybe he could bring his next fake girlfriend with him.

“That’s okay. They’re for Hazel and Abigail and you. And I’m really sorry about everything.”

Luckily for me, I was quicker than Fanny. I was out the door and racing down the stairwell faster than you could say, “Bingo night.”

At my car, I sent Travis a text. Your grandmother knows I’m not your girlfriend. I’m sorry. But you’re off the hook to find me a new store location.

Now if only we weren’t still working together on the fundraiser.

But after I screwed things up for him, maybe he would avoid me anyway.

Hello, my new awkward. Pull up a chair and grab some popcorn.