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into his belt, but open at the throat. Her eyes skittered to the firm line of Brendan’s lips.

      She had to be brave. Whether she wanted to be or not.

      “It’s Saturday,” Luke chided her.

      “Oh. Now that you’re on summer holidays, I forget sometimes.”

      “That’s my flaky aunt. Who doesn’t know what day it is?” But he said it with gruff affection, then added, “Gotta go. I’ll call you later.”

      Luke put his hand on her shoulder, dropped a casual kiss on her cheek. He squinted at the computer screen.

      “It’s not because we’re giving him the wrong diet. Iggy ate something,” he said.

      “Iggy? Luke, we try not to name the animals.”

      “It’s not really a name, just short for iguana. Dr. Bentley’s going to have to x-ray him. How could an iguana swallow a house?”

      And on that note, her nephew was gone, Ranger peeking out his hoodie pocket. He went back outside, and moments later, she heard him calling, “Brendan? I’ll come with you. I’m going to mow Deedee’s lawn. That’s if Deedee can look after my kitten.”

      Nora twitched back the curtain just in time to see Luke hand Ranger to Deedee.

      The old woman stared at the kitten. For a moment, she looked mad, as if she might give it back. But then her face softened, and she tucked Ranger into her breast and got into the car.

      Brendan looked up at her, as if he’d known she was watching all along. He gave her a small smile and a thumbs-up. As if they were raising this boy together. She let the curtain fall back into place.

      MIDAFTERNOON, NORA WAS thinking of Luke’s words while she stood in Dr. Bentley’s office looking at the X-ray of Iggy’s digestive tract, and not his words about mowing the lawn, either. About how an iguana could swallow a house. The X-ray clearly showed a little toy house lodged in the reptile’s digestive system.

      “An iguana will eat anything,” Dr. Bentley said.

      The vet donated many of his services to the animal shelter, but was not volunteering an operation on an iguana, and she couldn’t ask. Now what? They had a reserve fund, but to use it for an expensive procedure for an animal she had no hope of finding a home for?

      She remembered being thankful, just days ago, that she had never had to face this situation.

      Maybe you should have a plan. She hated it that Brendan Grant had been right. He had that look of a man who was always right. Who was logical and thought things through and never did anything impulsive or irrevocable.

      We would be a well-balanced team, she thought, before she could stop herself.

      “I need a minute to think,” she said.

      “Take your time.”

      She wrestled Iggy back into his cage and lugged him out to the waiting room. She had three choices. She could bring him home to die. She could have the vet speed up the process, which would be more humane. Or she could find the money for the procedure.

      Her cell phone rang and she looked at the number coming in.

      “Hey, Luke,” she said, trying to strip the conflict she was feeling from her voice.

      “It’s not Luke. I borrowed his phone.”

      “Why?” It was him, the one who was always right. Maybe she’d call him that. Mr. Right. Then again, maybe not. She did not want to be thinking of Brendan Grant as Mr. Right in any context.

      There was no Mr. Right! It was a fairy tale to keep females from empowering themselves! Ditto for thinking she was falling in love with him. Just another fairy tale.

      “Because we’re standing out in Deedee’s yard and he handed it to me.” A pause, and his voice lowered. “And because I wasn’t sure if you would answer if you saw it was me.”

      “What would make you say that?” she said cautiously.

      “I thought you were avoiding me.”

      Was she that obvious? It was embarrassing, really.

      “Why would I be avoiding you?” she asked.

      Silence. She thought of the boldness of taking his lips with her own, and shivered. She thought of the word love coming unbidden to her after she had kissed him.

      He moved on without answering the question. They both knew exactly why she was avoiding him.

      “I told Luke I’d take him for a milkshake. He did Deedee’s lawn and then started on her shrub beds. They’re pretty overgrown. He’s worked really hard. I can’t believe you’ve lived here six months and not been to the Moo Factory. His exact words were ‘we never do anything fun.’”

      “We do fun things,” she protested.

      “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

      We played a few hands of poker, once.

      She knew it said something simply awful about her life with her nephew that, aside from that, nothing came to mind.

      “We rented Star Wars last week.”

      “Really? That sounds like fun redefined.”

      “Are you being sarcastic?”

      “It comes naturally to me, like breathing.”

      “We play Scrabble,” she said triumphantly. “When I can get him away from the computer.” Too late, she remembered they had invited Brendan to play Scrabble. He’d been unimpressed.

      “Fun intensified.”

      She remembered his face that evening Luke had suggested Scrabble. But she was on a mission now to prove they had fun.

      “And Luke showed me how to play virtual bowling!”

      “Wow!”

      It let her know how wise her avoidance strategy was. He was sarcastic. It was hard to hold that fault in the forefront, though, in light of his good deed. He was taking her nephew for ice cream.

      “I bet you threw the bowling ball backward.”

      “How could you know that?”

      “Psychic. That should help me fit right in on the farm.”

      “Oh!”

      “I warned you. Sarcastic.”

      “How did you really know? About the bowling ball?”

      “I’ve played that game.”

      “Oh, so you threw the ball backward?”

      “No.” Suddenly he seemed impatient with the conversation. “Anyway, I thought I should ask your permission before I took Luke for ice cream.”

      It was so respectful it could make a woman forgive sarcasm. Or at least one who did not have her guard way up.

      “That wasn’t necessary. Of course you can take him.” Ridiculous to somehow feel deflated that she wasn’t being invited.

      Then Brendan said, “Luke would like you to come with us.”

      Not him. Luke.

      She looked at the sick iguana. And suddenly was overcome by weakness, not wanting to have to make this decision herself.

      “I’m at the vet’s office with Iggy, an iguana who has eaten something.”

      “Iggy,” Brendan repeated slowly. “I thought you told me you didn’t name them?”

      “Who would get

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