Page 162 of Falling for the Grumpiest Protector

"Yeah. I'd like that."

"There's a place called Betty's? My friends said it's good."

That almost makes me laugh. "They're right."

"You know it?"

"Everybody knows Betty's."

"Ten?"

"Ten works."

"Good."

Neither of us moves. There are a dozen things I could ask him before he leaves. I don't.

"Have fun tonight."

"I will."

"And drive safe."

He smiles. "I will." He reaches for the driver's door, then looks back at me. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow." He gets into his car. I stand there while he pulls away. I don't move until he's gone.

Then I look toward the farm. This morning I had a son somewhere in Boston who wanted to meet me someday. Tonight I know he likes brisket. He sees problems in irrigation lines. He laughs when he's nervous. He has friends twenty minutes from Oakridge. He stayed.

And tomorrow, I get another day.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Javier

I'm at Betty's at nine forty-two. This is stupid. We said ten. I know we said ten because I've checked the message twice, even though it contains exactly four words.

Betty's at ten?

I answered: I'll be there.

Apparently that means eighteen minutes early.

Betty sets a mug of coffee in front of me. "You're wearing a path in my floor."

"I've been sitting here."

"You were standing when you came in."

"That's generally how walking works."

She gives me a look. I drink my coffee. Betty has known me long enough to recognize when leaving me alone is the kindest thing she can do. She doesn't.

"Emma told me."

Of course she did. I look at her. "How many people know?"

"It's Oakridge."