After changing into her street clothes, Evie searched for her purse and phone, still not happy about leaving the day’s mess to her boss. Toward the end of the day, she’d noticed Lisa rubbing her right temple. She’d been doing that a lot lately. Every time Evie would ask her about it, she would murmur something about a headache.

Despite Lisa’s comment to Deke, she rarely read for pleasure. Most of her downtime was spent going over the current day’s treatments and preparing for the next day.

On the last tour, Lisa had been preoccupied with administration matters, spending more hours than normal on the computer and pouring over documents. Evie’d only been able to manage a glimpse of the paperwork, but she saw enough to know they weren’t patient-related. When she’d offered to help, Lisa had refused, citing her desire for Evie to concentrate on the patients.

Evie forced herself to set aside her worry for Lisa. In order to make it through the next two hours without embarrassment, she would need whatever end-of-the-day mental power she had left while dining with Deke.

Splaying her feelings at his feet had been one of the most liberating and frightening things she’d ever done. But she wouldn’t allow her inclination toward shyness—something she’d fought against her entire life—to send her running.

Few knew that she had to force herself to be outgoing and to talk to strangers. Confidence didn’t come naturally to her like it did the rest of the Steele clan. Every day, she had to psych herself up for whatever challenge lay ahead. Succeeding at her part-time job and graduating college summa cum laude had helped a great deal.

The only time she didn’t second-guess herself was while she worked with her patients. Every decision or recommendation she made seemed like second nature. Natural. Only after the patients had long departed did the questions and worry start.

As long as she didn’t poison anyone, she could see kicking this lack of self-confidence thing, once and for all.

Dropping her phone inside her purse, she stepped out of the RV and searched for Deke. Halfway between the Med Mobile and staff RV, he stood in profile, a white earbud attached to the side of his head. His gaze strayed her way, and he gave her a wave of acknowledgment.

All these years she’d assumed he couldn’t see beyond her connection with Britt. The sibling thing had been part of the issue, but not the grand banana. An age gap had kept him away. Had his fantasies of her made him feel like an old lecher?

She grinned. Not at his internal torment, but at the image of this big, strong, handsome-as-hell guy thinking he needed to protect her. From himself.

He turned, catching her smile. The moment drew out, intensified. Not backing down, she lifted a brow. He ended the call.

“Something funny?”

“Yep, but you wouldn’t appreciate the humor. Are you up for a walk?”

“Lead the way.”

They strolled down Main Street for a few blocks until they reached the downtown area. The hub of Haden’s Hollow consisted of a bakery, restaurant, real estate agency, and bank. A gas station, park, grocery store, and church wrapped around the town’s center.

A bell jingled when they entered Lantern Café, and the rich scent of mashed potatoes, coffee, fried chicken, grease, apple pie, and decades-old wood enveloped them.

“Hey, y’all,” a fresh-faced young hostess said. “Two tonight?”

“Yes,” Evie said. “Any booths left?”

“One just opened up.” She showed them to a corner booth lit by a small hanging lamp with a shade made of amber glass.

“What’s with family-owned, small-town restaurants and fake green plants?” Deke asked.

Evie scanned the dining room, spotting variegated ivy and philodendrons trailing along shelves. “Lower maintenance than the real deal.”

“What’s good here?”

“I’m fond of the chicken wrap. Lisa likes the Reuben.”

He closed his menu. “Reuben it is.”

Uncertainty burrowed into her chest. Did he value Lisa’s opinion over hers? Or did he find Reubens manlier? A more insidious option scratched to the surface. Did he and Lisa have a history? She hadn’t missed their exchange about milkshakes.

“How did things go today?” he asked.

“Pretty well. We had a couple of tough cases, though.”

“Can you talk about them?”

“Not really.”

“Will the baby Harry be all right?”

“Should be. Lisa will call his mom tomorrow to see if his treatment is working.”

“The girl who helped me organize the crowd—is her mom very sick?”

She sipped her water. “Yes.”

“Cancer?”

“I can’t get into specifics. I’m already walking a thin line.”

“Many of your patients quite freely told me about their issues.”

“They’re allowed to. I’m not.”

He cocked his head, studying her. “Don’t take this the wrong way…”

“Why do people always think that statement somehow lessens the blow?”

“I’m used to seeing you carefree and happy, as if nothing can dampen your spirit.” The area around his eyes lifted in amusement. “Like the time I came over to pick up Britt before our high school graduation ceremony. It had rained the previous night. You came flying out of the house toward me, wearing a pretty blue dress. Your bare feet slipped on a patch of damp grass, and you went down.”

“How could I forget such a mortifying time?”

“Most girls your age would’ve burst into tears or complained about the grass stain.” His dimple deepened. “Not Evie Steele. You bounced up like a pogo stick and laughed about how your mama was going to kill you.”

“My wild ways, Mama used to call them. It took me years to find the balance between my love of all things feminine and the need to run with my brothers.” She rubbed her middle finger against the table. “You remember the color of my dress.”

He broke eye contact. “Where the hell is our waiter?”

“That had to be sixteen or seventeen years ago.”

“The point of my story,” he said in a tone determined to change the subject, “was to highlight how nursing has brought out another side of you.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Neither, just different.”

“Are you going to tell me how—or do I need to tickle the information from you?”

His attention slid down to her mouth, and her lips parted of their own accord. Need darkened his features. Her pulse slammed against the side of her neck.

An eternity ticked by before a breath expanded his chest and his gaze lifted. “You’re more serious, focused, though I detect some uncertainty. Does this work mean so much to you?”

“It’s everything to me. If I don’t nail this, I’m up a creek, because I don’t have a Plan B.”

“You won’t need one. The Steele heart beats inside your chest.”

“Steele heart?”

“Tough, unstoppable, take no shit. Not even from yourself.”

She laid a hand against her chest. “All that’s in there, is it?”

“And much more.” A dimple appeared in his right cheek. “Those were the highlights.”

She smiled.

“There you go.”

“What?”

“Don’t forget to enjoy the ride. No goal is worth achieving if you have to sacrifice your happiness.”

“You know this by experience?”

“We all lose sight of what’s important, from time to time.”

Evie waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t.

“Well,” she said into the awkward silence, “I appreciate the reminder. But when a patient’s health is in my hands, it’s hard to think about anything other than ‘Don’t screw this up.’”

“Whereas, my worst worry is meeting a production deadline or navigating to the right location.”

She nodded at his sling. “Are you sure?” Something about his attitude at Triple B still gnawed at her. When she’d asked about his injury, he’d shut down the conversation. Had he done something embarrassing to cause the accident? Or had he been protecting the truth? “Gonna tell me what really happened?”

“I already did. Hunting accident.”

“I’ve known you for a long time and can tell when you’re tweaking my nose about something.”

He said nothing for a long while. “It’s not something I’m proud to discuss.”

The raw quality in his voice made her pause. She knew about regret. Knew its lasting effects. Before she could pull back her question, he glanced down at his injured arm and said, “It was a hunting accident. My shoulder got in the way of a crossbow arrow.”

“An arrow?”

“A moment of inattention. Classic cliché, right?”

“I’m sorry for prying. I sensed you were keeping something from me…and I didn’t like it.”

“You dislike secrets in general—or those by me?”

“Both.”

“What if the secret is for your protection?”

Evie huffed a breath and shook her head. “My brothers have used that excuse often. I love those egomaniacs, but ‘protection’ is a mask for control. No man’s going to control my life again. From this point forward, I decide what’s right and wrong for me.”

“What if you have no experience with the situation?”

“Then I’ll speak with someone who does before making a decision.”

“My little Squirt has truly disappeared.”

“She’s been gone for a long time. The men in my life seem oblivious of the fact.”

The rest of their dinner passed with the ease of two friends reminiscing over old times. They laughed, they conspired, they shared long stretches of contemplative silence. They even picked food off each other’s plates.

Neither brought up the hairy gorilla eyeballing them from the corner of the room. Now that she knew the real crux of Deke’s relationship avoidance, she needed time to devise a plan to crush it.

After paying the bill, they headed to Bailey’s where they grabbed Lisa’s toffee-chipped milkshake, Deke’s three scoops of Rocky Road, and her vanilla ice cream cone dipped in chocolate.

They fell back into the silence of their own thoughts on the way to the Med Mobile. But this time, their lack of communication wasn’t companionable. The air between churned thick with regret. Regret that the evening had come to an end.

Once they stepped inside the RV, they would have to share their conversation with Lisa. Evie didn’t want to share Deke with anyone. Not now. Not when over a decade of clouds had finally lifted.

They paused at the staff RV’s entrance, neither knowing how to end the evening.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said.

“I enjoyed our time together.”

“Me too.” She cleared her throat. “Any ideas where we go from here?”

“Try like hell to forget today’s revelations and settle back into friendship.”

Not a chance, big guy.

“Then give me a hug goodnight.”

Not one of his muscles moved. He didn’t even blink, just peered down at her as if she’d give him a rash if he dared touch her.

“We’ve been hugging each other for years, Deke. Folks will notice if we suddenly stop. Think about Britt’s suspicion at Triple B.”

One hand bent the paper cup of Rocky Road nearly in half while the other remained at his side in a tight fist. The air crackled around them while he made his decision.

Temptation and fear roiled like a boiling kettle. Could they embrace without giving in to the heat? With knowing they each craved the other’s touch?

For the love of God, one of them needed to break the tension, make the next move, prove that they could hug without shredding each other’s clothing.

She took the two steps separating them and curled her arms around his body like she’d done countless times before, only this time holding a milkshake and sugar cone. No one could blame her if she pushed the embrace further by pressing her body flush with his and resting her head against his broad chest.

Thrump-thrump-thrump-thrump-thrump.

The rapid pace of his heart brought her an odd comfort and a deep-seated excitement. Inhaling a long breath, she closed her eyes.

A strong arm enclosed her in a warm cocoon, though his body remained rigid. How long they stood in each other’s arms she didn’t know. Didn’t care. She needed this small contact, this connection to the man she’d loved forever.

Soon his body loosened enough for him to bury his nose in her hair. His lips brushed the shell of her ear. “I will do the right thing by you, Evie Steele—” restraint shook his voice, “—even if it kills me.”

He released her and strode into the night.

Cold ice cream dribbled over her knuckles. She ignored it, following Deke until the darkness consumed him.

She plopped down onto the top step, stunned by the power of one embrace. With absolutely no brainpower behind the action, she licked the dripping ice cream.

How to make a stubborn, honorable man to see that the best thing for her was to be wedded and bedded. Or bedded and wedded. She liked the sound of the latter better.

“Beware, Deke Conrad.”