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Her burst of laughter echoed in the wind. He didn’t want to be drawn to her but he couldn’t deny he was.

“You should probably tell your mom that’s not how it works. But youdidrescue me.”

He nodded and passed back her phone, hoping she wouldn’t look at it until later. “And I ate pastrami for you.”

She fought a smile. “That’s true. Fine. I’ll text you. But we aren’t staying long.”

“You’re the boss. Say the word and we’ll go.”

Lexi grinned. She gave him her number. “Safe word will bepastrami.”

Four

Lexi was craving a pastrami sandwich by the time she got home. Since she was in charge of the shopping and hadn’t had a chance to hit the store this week, that craving would go unsatisfied. She did, however, take a few minutes to center herself after parting ways with her gorgeous rescuer. She even placed an online order for groceries to be picked up tomorrow. Multitasking, the greatest workout of all.

Letting herself into the house, she listened for sounds that her mother was awake. Gwen Danby spent a lot of time sleeping. It was just one item on the long list of things that worried Lexi about her mom.

Her childhood home, a two-story basement entry, could be described on one of those reality fixer-upper shows as “full of potential.” A person just needed a boatload of money and some skill to return it to its formerly charming, not-run-down state.

Lexi tossed her bag on the entryway table, hung her faded jean jacket, and took the stairs up. The second floor was mostly open, with the living area straight ahead, the dining area to the left and an archway through there to the kitchen.

To the right of the stairs, there was a hallway with three bedrooms, a bathroom, and another entrance to the kitchen. It was easy to see her mom wasn’t in the living room. As usual, a stack of romance books satprecariously piled on the table beside her favorite lounger in front of an old-school brick fireplace. There were more on the floor and probably a bunch on hold at the library waiting for Lexi to pick them up.

Lexi’s stomach rumbled audibly. Damn. She really wanted that sandwich. Tomorrow. If she remembered to pick up the groceries.

“Lex? Is that you?” her mom’s soft singsong voice called from down the hallway. Lexi headed that way. Should she cancel with Will? Of course she should. What was she thinking going to a party with people she wasn’t even friends with anymore? It wasn’t like showing up with a guy she barely knew was going to make her fit in again. Anywhere. No matter how good he looked. Or sweet and funny he seemed.

When she entered the space that used to be her dad’s office, some of the tension in her shoulders loosened. Gwen’s most animated moments were when she worked on her miniatures. Scene after scene of moments she’d read decorated the walls of shelves. Story snippets. Lexi could lose herself looking at them as easily as her mother got lost in making them.

When Lexi was restless or couldn’t sleep, she’d come in here to focus on the intricate details of the creations, labeled neatly by the book that inspired them.The Kiss Quotientby Helen Hoang,Twice Shyby Sarah Hogle,Happily Ever Afterby Nora Roberts, and so many more. Lexi hadn’t read all of the books, but the miniatures shared the essence of the moments that really tugged at her mother’s dented heart. While it was an outlet—an amazing one at that—Gwen often leaned on the activity like a crutch to keep to herself, avoid social engagements, and focus on something other than missing her husband.

“Hi, honey,” her mom said without lifting her head.

“Hey.” Lexi wandered in, noting that her mom hadn’t changed out of the pajama bottoms or ancient Eagles T-shirt she’d been wearing when Lexi left that morning. “What are you working on?”

“Dinner scene from the book I’m reading. He reaches for her hand across the table and she just tells him absolutely everything. Like he released something inside of her, you know? It was adorable. Remindedme of my first date with your dad.” The table was strewn with tools, miniature pieces, clay, paints, brushes—everything a craft enthusiast could imagine.

Lexi’s heart flinched. She squeezed her mom’s shoulder, knowing where this was headed. It seemed she was destined to get stuck in the past today.Who are you kidding? Your past and present have merged forevermore.

“We went to see the Eagles. First and best concert I’ve ever been to. Oh, sweetie, Don Henley has the most beautiful voice.” Gwen used the tiniest of tools to manipulate the clay. Usually, Lexi’s mom bought miniature items she found at craft stores, like tables, benches, books, fruits, vegetables, little glasses that looked like they held liquid, and so much more, to create her scenes; for the characters, she often made her own. “We sang along to every single song and then went to this diner after. We had apple pie and I felt like I could tell him anything. This scene, it just got me, you know?”

She knew her parents’ story. All too well. They’d also shared a chocolate vanilla milkshake. When the band’s “Peaceful, Easy Feeling” came over the speakers, they’d declared it their song and never spent another night apart. Until.

The mixture of sadness and wistfulness in her mother’s tone dug beneath the crack in Lexi’s heart that never quite healed.

“Have you eaten today?” Lexi asked when her mother fell silent. Lexi couldn’t count how many times she’d heard the first-date story.

“Don’t mom me.” Gwen set her tool down, rolled her shoulders, and spun around on her chair. Her once dark hair had liberal streaks of pale gray, almost white. The tiny-framed glasses she wore to see things up close were perched too far down her nose. She removed them with a deep sigh.

“Don’t give me reason to,” Lexi reminded her. When Lexi did anything even slightly mom-like, Gwen brought out herI’m serioustone. In truth, she loved the way little flickers of her mom’s old self came through when she told Lexi to knock it off.

“Haveyoueaten today?” Her mom’s brows arched. She stoodand stretched her hands over her head. Despite the drawstring being cinched, the pajama bottoms hung loose on her waist.

“Well played. Why don’t I make us something?”Do it. You’re stuck in as much of a rut as she is.“I’m going to go out for a while tonight.” Lead by example. Another old favorite among Coach’s sayings.

Her mom lowered her arms, a small smile gracing her lips.

“That’s good, honey. That makes me happy. You should get out more. You spend all your time working or here. It’s not healthy.”