“You’re trying too hard,” Jonah observed as I scrolled through another page on the website. He was steaming broccoli while I searched for exactly the right set of pajamas.

“Cassidy loves these things,” I said, remembering the matching Strawberry Shortcake pajamas Nadine Tucker had given Cassidy and Scarlett for Christmas one year. Every time Cassidy slept over, she had on a different set of pajamas.

I imagined a cozy pair of pajamas would be a smart start to worming my way back into her good graces. I could see her lounging around in soft purple thermals while we curled up on the couch to watch one of those eighties movies she was obsessed with.

I was in this for the long haul. Cassidy Tucker was meant for me, and I wasn’t letting her slip away a second time.

“She didn’t seem to be wearing any pajamas the other night,” Jonah noted.

“Don’t make me drown you in boiling broccoli water,” I said mildly.

He grinned, checking the chicken breasts roasting in the oven.

Having Jonah as a roommate was all right in my book. He did most of the cooking, slapped baked goods out of my hand, and was, in general, the easiest Bodine brother to talk to.

“How are things going for you?” I asked him, adding a red satin short and cami set to my shopping cart.

He shut the oven door with his hip and reached for his water bottle. “Good,” he said with a roll of his shoulders. “Business is pretty steady for the off-season.” He’d started some group exercise classes during the week that had a huge and primarily female following. But Jonah didn’t seem to notice the adoring attention.

“How about everything else? It’s gotta be weird to share not just DNA but a name with our dad.”

It was the vice principal in me, checking in, testing the waters.

“Everything’s weird as far as I’m concerned. I try not to worry about it much,” he said.

“I noticed reporters are trickling back into town,” I said. “Any of them giving you any trouble?”

“They’re a bit more respectful than the last bunch.”

The school was only fielding about six or seven calls a day from journalists looking for a story. There hadn’t been any more newsworthy breaks in the case since the sweater, and interest seemed to be tapering off.

Jonah looked like he wanted to say something else.

“What?” I asked.

“What was he like? Your father. To you, I mean. Scarlett’s told me some. Jameson, too. But it seems like you all had different relationships.”

“First of all, it’s y’all.”

“I’m not an official Bootlegger yet. I don’t think I can appropriate your language.”

“You’re kin,” I said in my thickest West Virginia drawl. “‘Round these parts you can y’all anyone and anything y’all want to.”

He chuckled, knowing full well I was stalling. He pulled two beers out of the fridge and popped the tops. I accepted the one he offered.

“I had a complicated relationship with my dad,” I told him.

Jonah waited while I took a long pull on the beer and collected my thoughts.

“He wasn’t as hard on me as he was Gibs. But he didn’t love me like he loved Scarlett. We had a bond, a tenuous one, around baseball. He played in high school and so did I. In fact, I think the only reason I played was because he liked that I played.” I hadn’t really thought it out like that before. The other reason I’d kept coming back to the diamond was the fact that Sheriff Tucker was the coach.

I waited for the sharp edge of shame that always poked out when I thought about Sheriff Tucker and realized that I didn’t have to feel it anymore. That I’d never needed to feel it. He’d never thought I wasn’t good enough.

“What’s happening? You look like you’re having some epiphany right now.”

“Since when are personal trainers the new bartender therapist?” I shot back.

Jonah slung a dish towel over his shoulder and crossed his arms.

“We won states my senior year,” I told him, getting back on track. “Dad was over the moon. He’d been a star on his team in his time, but like his music, he never got the chance to reach for any dreams. Mom got pregnant. They got married. He got a job.”

“Did he want you to make a career out of it?”

I shook my head. “It was more like he thought baseball should be my ticket out of here. Gibs never went to college. So Dad set his sights on me to live out the dreams he never got to.”

“Did you?”

“I played ball until my junior year. Got hurt. And never went back. Dad didn’t think a degree in school administration was nearly as interesting as a baseball career. He wanted adventure for us that he never got, I guess.” And all I’d wanted was a happy home. A place to plant roots. A real family, not just one held together by blood and scotch tape.

“Was he always a drinker?” Jonah asked.

I shook my head. “No. Mostly he was pissed off at the world in general. I remember him being grumpy all through my childhood. The drinking really ramped up in my late teens.” I thought back to those days. “Mom died in a car accident. Took us all by surprise. I think as much as he was unhappy in that relationship they really did have a bond.”

Jonah picked up the pot and dumped the steaming contents into a colander in the sink. “What was your mom like?”

“She was…different. She made an effort with all of us. But you could tell that her heart wasn’t in it some days. She blew hot and cold. None of us ever knew which Mom we were coming home to. When she was happy we were all happy. We’d roast hot dogs over the fire outside and make a party of it. But when she was down, it was like there was a cloud over this house. She loved us. But she wasn’t capable of any kind of consistency. It was like her highs burned her out until we started to dread them as much as the lows. What about your mom?”

“She’s great,” Jonah said with a small smile. “Toughest woman I know. But not like hard, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“She raised me single-handedly. Made sure I brushed my teeth and could throw a ball and do laundry. She always tells me she was training me for a nice girl someday.”

“You haven’t been datin’ much,” I pointed out.

“I don’t think someday is right now. Not when I share the name of a man under investigation for murder and I’m only starting to get to know the half-siblings I didn’t know I had. Do you think he did it?”

I looked up from the screen.

“Kill Callie?”

He nodded.

“I think it’s unlikely. I don’t know how that sweater got there. Our father was no angel. But he never lifted a hand to any of us. If he had anything to do with it, it wasn’t murder. And if it was an accident, like a hit-and-run, I don’t think he’d be able to cover his tracks.”

“Good to know,” Jonah said, pulling plates out of the cabinet.

I didn’t know if he liked the pieces he was getting of our father or if he was relieved the man had never been in his life.

“So what should the gift receipt say?” I asked, changing the subject. “For our own sleepover?”

Jonah winced. “Too creepy.”

“Yeah, definitely creepy.”

“How about ‘For sweet dreams on winter nights.’?”

“Much better,” I agreed.

Jonah looked up at the flash of headlights through the back window. “Looks like the object of your affections is home.”

I hit the Order button and hustled out onto the back porch.

“Evenin’, Cass,” I called to her as she stalked up the porch steps.

“I’m not talking to you,” she told me with a fierce frown.

“That’s all right. I’ll just talk to you. You look real pretty tonight.” She was still in her uniform, her hair pulled back in that tight bun that always made me want to loosen it and let it spill down into my hands.

She reached for her door and then paused, rounding on me. We were separated by that slim strip of railing that I was going to take down one of these days. No more barriers. Nothing keeping us apart.

“I don’t appreciate you insinuating yourself and playing Courtin’ Fairy all over my job.” She stabbed a finger into my chest, and I relished the physical contact.

I grabbed her hand and brought it to my lips.

“Honey, I’m gonna be insinuating myself all over your life,” I promised.

“I have never wanted to slap someone so hard in my entire life,” she hissed. There was fire under the iciness in her eyes. That’s what I loved about her. You always knew where you stood with Cassidy Tucker. She didn’t play games, didn’t hide behind the silent treatment, didn’t go out of her way to throw a temper tantrum. She told you exactly what she felt.

“Try it,” I teased her. “I’d have to defend myself by wrestling you to the ground and kissing you until you can’t breathe.”

Her breath hitched, and I saw that spark of desire fire to life in her eyes. “You’re lucky I have plans tonight or I’d be seriously thinkin’ about kickin’ your ass,” she told me.

“Plans?” If she had a date, I would ruin it. I’d stood on the sidelines long enough. I would answer her front door buck naked if it meant chasing off a man who mistakenly thought he belonged in my spot next to her.

“Girls night out so I can complain about how much I. Do. Not. Like. You,” Cassidy snipped.

“You could have told me it was a date. Tortured me with it.”

“I’ve dated with your knowledge before,” she pointed out, eyes narrowed.

I reached out, knowing that I was pressing my not-getting-slapped luck, and pulled her a step closer. “That was before I made my intentions crystal clear.”

“Your intentions?”

“You’re it for me, Cass. You can waste time being mad, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have every intention of living happily ever after with you.”

“You can’t just suddenly decide to get married because my dad says it’s okay! You should have fought for me.”

“I should have,” I agreed. “And I’m willing to spend the next eight years wearing you down to make up for the time we lost.”