It was about a month after our dinner with Christian's parents, and Aunt Christy's suggestion to widen our friendship circle had been spot on. I immediately warmed to Glen and Susan, and I knew they liked me too. We'd only met up with them twice before she invited me to her book club which met every Wednesday, and was more of a girls’ night out since very few of them had time to read a book a week.

Christian had decided to spend his Wednesday evenings with Glen working after hours at the garage for some overtime that Axel doled out in cash. It was strange. Both Christian and I had wealthy parents, and never had the financial burden that so many young couples faced. We could go to either set of parents if we ever needed monetary help. I knew the Bears had given Slade a condominium as a graduation present. They'd made the same offer to Christian and me as a wedding gift. We hadn't turned them down, but put it on the back burner while we did what Christian originally suggested, which was to rent for a year before deciding on anything permanent. In the meantime, we paid our bills using our money and still managed to live quite comfortably.

We hadn't been back to The Alibi in almost a month, and I didn't miss it at all. However, I did miss the loss of what I thought was a solid friendship with Debbie. She'd started making excuses and turning down a couple of my invitations to meet up with them for dinner. I'd tried to meet her for lunch, and she was always too busy. When she turned down my offer to grab a quick coffee, I swiftly realized that she hadn't been my friend. Even though she'd kindly asked about my situation with Autumn every time I called her, I figured it might’ve been more gossip-fueled than concern for my welfare.

As he’d promised, Christian never confronted the couple about Debbie not covering for his lie, so I knew she wasn't upset about that. I think our supposed friendship took a nosedive because Christian and I were no longer the proverbial cool kids at The Alibi. Debbie may have pretended not to care about the biker hierarchy, but it was now obvious to me that it hadn't been true. She cared more than I’d thought, and if she and Joe weren't going to be seen hanging with biker royalty—as Christian and I had come to be known—they didn't have time for us. I guess it was better that I found out sooner rather than later.

It was a cool Saturday afternoon in November and Christian and I were heading over to Glen and Susan's to discuss the possibility of the guys going into business together. Since they preferred repairing bikes over cars, they'd been toying with the idea of opening their own shop.

It was Autumn's weekend to have Abby, but more than likely she left the little girl with her handicapped mother. Even though the woman was wheelchair bound, now that Abby was no longer an infant, Autumn’s mother was able to manage her visits and welcomed the child with open arms. I knew it was only for two days, but I missed my stepdaughter. I couldn't imagine what my father felt spending fifteen years away from me while he was in prison. Children had a bigger impact than I'd ever imagined. I laid my hand on my abdomen and tried not to mourn the child I would never carry.

Christian was driving my car when we stopped for gas at my regular station. I pulled my reward card out of my wallet and handed it to him with a reminder: "Don't put in diesel like I did," I teased.

He rolled his eyes before lowering our windows, turning off the engine, and swiping the card from my hand. Once he started the pump he leaned in my window and asked, "Is this where you always get your gas?"

"Always," I answered without looking at him. I'd been texting with a lady at the museum who wanted to know if I'd be interested in working full-time for two weeks while another employee recovered from surgery.

"And you never get gas anywhere else?" he probed.

I sent the message I’d typed on my phone and looked up at him. "This station is convenient to home and work, and has the best prices. Why?"

"Because there aren't any diesel pumps at this station," he replied while scanning the other kiosks. "You never get gas anywhere else?"

"I can't say that," I answered. "I'm sure I've stopped at other stations, but it's not the norm. I'm a creature of habit," I said with a shrug. "You know that."

We spent the afternoon with Glen and Susan and were saddened to have to turn down an invitation for Thanksgiving at their home. I told them we would be spending it with my grandfather in North Carolina. Early on, I'd handled casual inquiries about my family by telling them they lived in Montana. After a time, Christian had privately reminded me to be careful. "I understand why you've stuck to the Montana story, Mimi, but what are you going to do if you actually say it to someone who's familiar with Montana, and starts asking deeper questions?"

His observation was accurate and I considered it a miracle that it hadn't happened yet. I would remember to ask my parents for their thoughts and advice when I saw them at Thanksgiving.

After finishing up at Glen and Susan's, we headed home with a plan to go for a motorcycle ride together the next day. I was getting ready to ask Christian if it would be a good time to give Slade his surprise present when my phone pinged. I must've made an uncomfortable sound because we stopped at a red light, and Christian looked over at me.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"Rachel."

"Who is Rachel?" He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and scanned the intersection, only half interested.

"It's Nick Rosman's fiancée."

"Yeah, right," came his reply.

"She wants to know if I can have lunch with her next week. She's already asked like four or five times and I’ve always made excuses. I think she wants to be friends. I guess she's seen me talking with Jolly Roger so maybe she feels it's okay."

"Do you want to be friends with her?" he asked. He turned his head toward me and tucked his chin against his right shoulder, his blue eyes looking at me over the top of his sunglasses.

"Not necessarily. And it's not because she isn't a nice person. It doesn't feel right." I glanced at the light and told him, "It's green."

"You're too nice, baby," he said as we proceeded through the intersection and approached our neighborhood. "Some people and relationships aren't meant to be. They're like dead skin. After a while, if you don't slough it off, it starts to itch. When it starts to itch it annoys and distracts you. You've gotta scrape them off, Mimi, before they take you away from what's really important. How many hours have you wasted fretting over how to tell this girl you aren't interested?"

I'd already known that Christian saw the world in black and white, but it became more obvious since I'd moved to Florida. Christian either liked someone or he didn't. A potential friendship was something he wanted to pursue or drop. He didn't waver with what-ifs or maybes. I remembered his advice when I had to break up with Lucas at college. "Rip the Band-Aid off," he'd told me.

"You're right," I informed him when we pulled into our driveway. "I'll let her know, and I'll tell her why I don't think it would be a good idea." I thought about the embarrassment I would've saved myself in pursuit of Debbie's friendship if she'd been honest with me about not feeling the need to stay friends. We no longer fit into her and Joe's world, just like Rachel and Nick had no place in mine and Christian’s.

I asked Christian how much longer it would be before he gave Slade the surprise he'd been working on.

"I'm thinking about asking him over tonight.”

"It's ready?" I asked.

"I want to give it a once-over, but yeah, it'll be ready. I know it's last minute, but can you check and see if he wants to come by?"

"What should I tell him?"

"Tell him the truth." He grinned at me. "That it's a surprise."

“Give me your phone.” I held out my hand. “Mine is almost dead. I need to charge it.” He handed it over and I stuck it in my pocket.

I went inside and found my charger while Christian headed to the garage. I called Slade from Christian's cell phone, and when he didn't answer I sent a text.

I caught up on chores and reflected on how in spite of the loss of our friendship with Debbie and Joe, things had been looking up. For starters, Autumn's harassing notes had ceased. I hadn't seen her in over a month, which was fine with me. And when I mentioned her to Aunt Christy I was told that she'd heard through Autumn's mother, that Autumn had finally found a love interest. Mrs. Truncle had never again visited the museum, and I was enjoying my job more than ever. I was making good progress in my eating disorder therapy and had even joined a support group that met weekly. I'd only been once, but it was nice knowing they were there if I felt the need to share outside of my weekly visit with my therapist.

Finally feeling settled and confident in my new life was having another positive effect on me. I didn't seem to be as scatterbrained as I'd been when I'd first moved here. Adjusting to a new husband, stepdaughter, family, job, therapist, had weighed heavier than I’d thought. I guess I'd been so overwhelmed, I couldn't seem to focus on what I was doing, and I'd started to believe I really was Dreamy Mimi. Yes, I was proud of myself that it had been over a month since I'd done something ridiculously stupid. Like putting a gallon of milk away in the cabinet instead of the refrigerator. Or washing my car and leaving the hose on all night.

I looked over at the chess set and the candlestick that replaced the white queen we'd never been able to locate. I would have to say that the missing queen was the biggest regret in my lapse of responsibility. When we'd discovered Abby's fascination with the chess pieces, I was certain I'd made it a point to put it out of her reach. But I'd obviously not stayed on top of it because it came as a surprise when Christian and I discovered the piece was gone. I knew it would show up one day, but until then, it nagged at me.

The distinct ring of Christian’s phone brought me out of my daydreams. I slammed the dryer door shut and pulled the phone out of my back pocket. It was Slade. He told me he was supposed to have dinner with Erin, but he knew she wouldn't mind if they stopped by.

I headed out to the garage to tell Christian when I saw him walking up the street toward our house. I left the garage and strode across the lawn to meet him. When he got closer I could see he had a scowl on his face.

“Where were you?” I asked, puzzled by why he’d left without telling me and wondering where he’d gone.

He tilted his head back over his shoulder and said, “Tom wanted me to look under his hood.”

Tom was one of our neighbors. He and his partner, Richard, were interior designers and had introduced themselves after we’d moved in. They’d offered their assistance in decorating our home, and after I told them we weren’t certain about buying it, they helped me select some colors for the house.

“Is it something that’s easily fixable?” I asked Christian.

He looked distracted and asked, “Huh?”

“Whatever is wrong with Tom’s car. Were you able to help him out?” I asked while trying to keep up with his long strides as he returned to the garage.

“Yeah,” he replied as he headed back inside.

“Slade said yes to the invitation. He’s taking Erin out to dinner, but said they’d stop by on the way.”

“Okay,” he muttered before returning his attention to the gift he’d been working on for Slade.

“I don’t know what to say.”

It was hours later and Slade was standing in the garage, looking at the Harley-Davidson Christian had restored for him.

“I didn’t know you rode a motorcycle.” Erin ran her hand over the leather seat.

“I don’t,” Slade said. “At least I haven’t in a long time,” he corrected. I could see excitement that he couldn’t disguise. “It’s the hundred-year anniversary model,” he said reverently. He swung his leg over the seat, careful not to kick Erin in the process. “And a hard one to find.”

His comments led me to believe that Slade may not have ridden a bike in years, but he still loved them.

His eyes roamed over the front as he clutched the handlebars and said, “It’s been so long, Christian. I don’t know if I remember how to ride.”

“I could’ve given you your old one,” Christian commented. “I’m sure Dad has it stored somewhere. But if you’d wanted to ride that one, you would’ve already. I found this for a steal because the guy managed to mangle it. I knew when I saw it you would like it.”

Christian reached for a photo that had been sitting on the shelf. He handed it to Slade. “This is the before picture.”

Slade’s eyes widened as he looked up at Christian. “This is the bike I’m sitting on?” he asked as he waved the photo in the air.

Christian nodded.

“I don’t think I ever realized how talented you are, Chris.”

“What do you say?” Christian asked. He was hopeful, struggling not to let it show. “Mimi and I ride almost every weekend that we don’t have Abby. Why don’t you start coming with us?”

I could see Slade nodding as if chewing on a thought. “Yeah, I think I will, bro. It’ll be good for me.” He got off the bike and reached for Christian, pulling him into a man hug and releasing him. “Thank you.” He waved toward the bike. “For this. It means more than you could know.

“And thank you, Mimi. I know he wasn’t spending time with you if he was working on this.” He thumped the seat with his fingers. “Thank you for that.”

I was sure part of Slade’s decision to accept the gift and ride with us was based on how he’d heard from his parents that Christian had been staying away from the club. But I also felt there was more to it. Regardless, it was a way for the brothers to start building their relationship.

I turned to Erin and asked, “Would you like to see the inside of the house? I haven’t done much because we’re renting, but it still feels like home.”

Her answer was a smile followed by, “Lead the way.”

I escorted Erin inside and I listened as she oohed and aahed over some of my minor decorating decisions. It turned out she had a background in interior design, and wholeheartedly agreed with Tom and Richard’s color suggestions.

I’d shown her the bedrooms and was coming down the hall when Christian appeared. “I’m taking Slade next door. He’s thinking about buying a house as an investment. We won’t be long.”

I waved him off as Erin followed me toward the kitchen. It turned out that Erin was a super sweet woman, and someone I hadn’t considered as a potential friend. Then again, why would I? I’d only seen her the one time at the Bears’ home. I’d heard through Aunt Christy that Slade occasionally hung out with her, but that they weren’t officially dating. My curiosity got the best of me and I couldn't stop myself from probing further.

“Are you and Slade a thing or not?”

Without missing a beat, Erin said, “Slade and I are good friends and bed buddies.” There was no embarrassment or shame in her comment.

“Nothing more serious?” I reached for a pitcher. I thought I would whip up some margaritas to offer them before they left for dinner. “You two sure seem well-suited for each other.” I was being honest.

She shook her head with a grim smile. “Slade and I have a simple relationship. The truth is, we both carry a torch for someone else.”

I stopped mid-stir and looked at her. She was standing next to me, and had started slicing the limes I'd laid on a cutting board. She felt my stare because she launched into a sad tale about the man who owned her heart. A man she couldn’t be with until she handled an undesirable situation concerning the ex-husband who'd cheated on her, and his manipulation to make her life miserable. I could understand that. She didn’t want to start out a new relationship with an old one hanging over her head.

“He’s a horrible, mean-spirited person. It’s been going on for over a year. He can’t get past our divorce. If it weren’t for our children, I’d have moved out of the country. And I’ve tried everything legally to make him go away, but it’s not working.”

As if reading my thoughts, she added, “Slade has been so good with the legal advice. Unfortunately, I seem to have hit a road block.”

It made more sense now. Their friendship, although genuine, had been born of need and convenience—physically, emotionally, and technically. Which raised a question.

“Slade?”

She stopped cutting limes and looked over at me.

“The torch he carries. Is it for the same person you alluded to all those months ago when we met at his parents’ house?” I asked.

Her mouth turned downward as she nodded. She told me about a librarian named Bevin that Slade had shown interest in several months before, and how Erin had felt responsible for inadvertently kiboshing the potential romance.

“If I hadn’t worn his shirt, he wouldn’t have smelled like me,” she said as she scraped the limes from the cutting board into a bowl.

“It was obviously a misunderstanding,” I tried to reassure her.

She shrugged her shoulders and said, “I thought so too. But he was so wracked with guilt over having slept with me less than an hour before going to her house, he justified her rebuff.”

She shook her head and said, “Slade can have any woman he wants. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that he’s a catch. Yet he’s fixated on this one girl who turned him away.”

I had to agree. My brother-in-law was not just handsome and intelligent, but a decent and good human being. His mother had confided that she’d never seen Slade act the way he had when Christian first brought me home. I wondered if he was stinging even back then over the woman Erin was talking about. Maybe his frustration at his own situation is what caused him to lash out at Christian.

“I thought maybe he was getting past it. He’d gone the whole summer without seeing her when she didn’t accept the temporary position at the law library. He took a couple of women out but told me their conversations never went beyond where they worked out, what they wore, and what they drove. Slade felt like Bevin was a woman of substance. Someone whose discussions wouldn’t be based on materialistic things.” She walked the cutting board and knife to the sink and started rinsing them. “Apparently this girl made one heck of an impression on him.” Shaking out her hands and reaching for a dish towel, she added, “And I don’t think they’ve even spoken much.”

“I can see that,” I agreed as I reached for glasses. I grabbed three because I knew Christian would want a beer. “I think Slade is very insightful and probably puts a lot of value in first impressions. And she obviously made one. You said you thought he was getting past it. What happened?”

“I met him for lunch about a month ago. I’ve never met him for lunch before, Mimi. Not once.” She rolled her eyes. “The most we’ve done is grab coffee, and an occasional dinner. And that’s only when I don’t have my kids. Like tonight. So it’s rare.”

“Sorry,” I said as I nodded toward the button on the blender. She waved me on, and after I turned off the blender and started pouring the mixture into our glasses, she continued.

“I had a client near the courthouse. I thought I would take a chance and see if Slade wanted to grab a sandwich. It turned out Bevin was at the restaurant, and after Slade discreetly, or so I thought, pointed her out to me, I could tell her friend said something to her.”

“Did Slade talk to Bevin?” I asked, riveted to every word.

“No.” She shook her head. “I think the friend noticed me because immediately afterward, Bevin jumped up and couldn’t get out of the place fast enough. I told him to go after her, but he didn’t want to make a scene.”

“Sounds to me like Slade needs to pull his big boy shorts up and talk to the woman,” I said. For goodness’ sake. Christian had literally abducted me. The least Slade could do was approach the woman for a conversation.

I was getting ready to say that to Erin when she said, “Slade is the consummate gentleman. He doesn’t want to force himself on a woman who isn’t interested.”

“I think you and I know that by the way Bevin ran out of that restaurant, that she is interested. Don’t we?”

“Yes!” Erin practically shouted. “That’s what I’ve tried to tell him. I’ve never seen a more intelligent, attractive guy be such a doofus when it comes to women. Especially when he could probably have any one he wanted.”

“I’ll drink to that,” I said as we clinked our glasses together. I agreed. My brother-in-law would be any girl’s dream. Especially if they ever caught sight of him on his new Harley.

“Drink to what?” came Christian’s deep voice from behind us.

I turned around and said, “To it being margarita time!”