LITMIR.BIZ

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lower herself into a chair, as if her knees were about to give out.

      “I figured you’d be home for the wedding,” she said.

      He didn’t answer because he heard more noise on the stairs. Then Chase, Raney, Cal and Nalana were in the basement. Reverend Brown and the piano player were behind them.

      “Everything under control?” Chase asked, looking at Bray.

      Bray shrugged. Hell, no. He wasn’t in control. This woman had broken his heart. She’d chosen someone else. And he’d let that simmer in his gut for years until he’d finally believed he was over her.

      And the past five minutes had proved that he’d been lying to himself for years. “Great. Just great.”

      Raney crossed the room and wrapped an arm around Summer. “Don’t worry about these,” Raney said. “We’ll finish them up.”

      He’d been so focused on Summer that he’d missed the twenty or so square glass vases that were on the kitchen counter behind her.

      Summer shook her head. “Absolutely not,” she said, her voice sounding shaky. She cleared her throat. “I’ve only got a few to wash, and then I’ll load them in my van,” she added, more confidently.

      Raney looked as if she might want to argue, but instead, she gave a quick nod. She looked up at Bray. “I understand you already know Summer.”

      There wasn’t a sound in the room.

      “She and her sister, Trish, are handling the flowers and the food for the reception that we’re having at the Wright Here, Wright Now Café,” Chase finally jumped in. “The church is letting us borrow the vases.”

      Nobody seemed inclined to want to discuss Gary Blake and what had just happened. Was it because of the potential of Reverend Brown and the other woman hearing the conversation?

      Reverend Brown, astute as ever, turned to leave. “Julie and I’ll be upstairs. Nice to see you again, Summer.”

      No one spoke until the door at the top of the stairs opened and closed again.

      Then Nalana stepped forward, walking toward the sink where the remaining vases were submerged in soapy water.

      Summer held up a hand. “No. Please. I’m almost finished, and I’m sure you all have lots of catching up to do.”

      The message was clear. You have to catch up with Bray since he hasn’t been around for forever.

      Summer focused on Raney and Chase. “I won’t let him ruin any part of your wedding. I promise.”

      Raney shook her head. “You are not responsible for his poor behavior.”

      Summer sighed. “I’m just terribly sorry this happened. It’s...embarrassing.”

      “It’s not you who should be embarrassed,” Chase said. “I think I might have to go drop-kick Blake into the next county.”

      “Oh, please. I’ve got a bigger foot and a stronger kick. Let me,” Cal said.

      That got a small smile from Summer. Bray was happy to see that and happier still to see the easy camaraderie between Chase and Cal. It hadn’t always been that way, and he wasn’t sure why. But he liked this.

      “I’ll help Summer finish up here,” Bray said.

      His brothers exchanged a quick glance. “Well, okay, then,” Chase said. He and Cal, each with an arm slung around his woman, went back upstairs, leaving him alone with Summer, who was back on her feet.

      “This isn’t necessary,” she said.

      He deliberately rolled up his shirtsleeves, then walked over to the sink and plunged his hands into the lukewarm water. “I’ll wash. You dry.”

      She pressed her lips together. Finally, she let out a loud sigh and grabbed the dull white dish towel.

      They didn’t talk for the five minutes it took to finish washing the vases. Nor for the seven minutes it took to pack all twenty in two big cardboard boxes. Finally, Bray said, “Now what?”

      “Now I load them in my van,” she said.

      He hoisted a box up. “Lead the way.”

      She started to lift the other.

      “Leave it,” he said. “It’s too heavy. I’ll get it on the second trip.”

      She led him up the back stairs of the church and outside. There sat an old red van that had seen better days. There were several scratches and a couple of small dents, one that looked pretty new. “What happened here?” he asked, thinking it could have been made by a man’s boot. Did Blake take his anger out on objects, too?

      She smiled. “Errant football. I said it was a wild throw. Keagan said I should have jumped higher.”

      “Keagan?”

      “My son.”

      Ahhhh, yes. The child that she’d had with Gary Blake within the first year of their marriage. Bray set the box down, perhaps harder than necessary, but he didn’t hear anything break.

      He went back inside for the other box. She was standing next to the open van door and stepped aside so that he could shove the box in. Which he did—a little more gently.

      “You have a daughter, too, right?” he asked.

      Summer’s face softened. “Adalyn. We call her Adie. She’s five.”

      “How do they feel about the divorce?” he asked.

      There was enough light from the streetlight that he could see her pretty green eyes cloud over. “Probably like any kid feels about a divorce. Sad. Confused. Relieved,” she added, her voice quiet.

      That pulled at his gut. Was it even possible that Blake had used his fists on them, too? “Did your ex ever—”

      She walked to the side of the van, opened the driver’s-side door and got in. She started the engine. Finally, she turned her head sideways and made eye contact. “Never. He knew I’d kill him if he did that.”

       Chapter Two

      Tuesday, 6:15 p.m.

      She had been having a pretty good day until her ex-husband had decided to show up at the church. The restaurant had been pleasantly busy, and when she’d left at two to attend Adie’s Thanksgiving Day party at her kindergarten, the sun had been shining and she’d been excited about Chase and Raney’s upcoming wedding. She and Trish were determined that the reception was going to be phenomenal. For what Chase was paying them, he deserved something special.

      After the party, she’d driven Adie home and waited another half hour for Keagan to get home from school. It was his first year at Ravesville High, and he detested it when she picked him up in the van. “I’m not a little kid,” he’d say.

      He wasn’t. But neither was a fourteen-year-old boy an adult. She was full-time busy trying to balance her natural tendency to keep him close and protected with the reality that she needed to let go, let him have more independence, let him make more decisions, even let him make a few mistakes.

      When she’d been that age, she’d been an adult. Out of necessity. What was it Trish used to say? We were pushed out of the nest early, and we had to either fly or crash. They’d flapped their wings hard and managed to stay in the air, taking turns buying groceries, cooking dinner, doing laundry.

      They’d had each other, and together, they’d managed to mostly hide a big secret.

      She didn’t want anything like that for Keagan. Generally, all she really hoped for was for him to pick up his clothes off the floor and shower regularly.

      Today, once he’d got home, they’d had a brief conversation,

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