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  “First of all, no, my being in AA is none of your business, and second, being your dad’s sponsor is not weird.”

  Everett laughed; he couldn’t help it. It was like he’d landed in some crazy land where rationality was a thing of the past. “The thing is, you knew who I was. If you two are so chummy, then you must know what he did to us. You must know about the late-night bar pickups and all the times I cleaned up his puke. You must know about that time I had to break up a bar fight he started when I was sixteen. Didn’t he tell you about what he put us through?”

  She stared up at him with sad eyes, and he hated it. “Yes, he told me.”

  “I told you I was interested in you. I made it fucking obvious! So when would it have been a good time for you to tell me you were a recovering alcoholic?”

  “There is never a good time to tell anyone that, and honestly, I haven’t been in the position to need to. I’ve only told Caroline and Gemma, and they’re my friends. They understand and accept me. I haven’t dated anyone since . . . well, since before I started AA.”

  “How long have you been in?”

  “Since I was twenty-five, so five years.”

  It was too much, too intense.

  “Look, I just stopped by to tell you that it was really crappy to do that to your dad. I’m sorry that you found out this way, but as far as your feeling entitled to my life story, you haven’t earned it. I’ve known you for four days, and I think you’re a nice guy, but I learned a long time ago that looks can be deceiving.”

  And with that bomb of information, she spun around and walked off his porch to her Jeep.

  Chapter Seven

  “IDJIT,” FRED MUTTERED as he walked by Everett.

  Everett sighed at the familiar word, which he’d heard all too often from his father this week. The morning after he’d found about Callie’s past with AA, he’d gone about his business until his father had caught him in the barn and started in on him.

  “I raised you better than to be a rude, self-righteous son of a bitch!”

  Which had started a whole other blowout.

  “You didn’t raise me—Mom did. And when we lost her, we lost you too. Can you understand why I wouldn’t want to go through that again?”

  His father had spluttered, kicked over one of the old milk jugs, and stormed out of the barn. Since that morning six days ago, they’d barely said two words to each other.

  “Are you ever going to tell me what the hell happened between you and Dad? He hasn’t called either of us idjit since Valerie and I were having problems.”

  Everett looked up from the hay bale he was stacking to find his brother watching him with curiosity and concern. It was the day of the Rock Canyon Harvest Festival, and they’d been working all week to get things ready. The corn maze was set up and filling with costumed people, ready to jump out and say boo. Food vendors were putting up their tents, and Everett was trying to get the hayride ready.

  “We’re just having a difference of opinion,” Everett said.

  Justin took a pair of hay hooks and lifted another bale from the ground up to Everett in the bed of the truck. “But what about?”

  Everett debated whether or not to tell Justin. Callie hadn’t seemed ashamed of it, but it wasn’t his secret to tell either.

  “I found out something about a woman I was interested in, and it’s made me rethink whether or not I want to get involved with her. Dad thinks I’m being an idjit.”

  “Well, tell me the big secret, and I’ll tell you if I agree or not.”

  Everett glared at his smirking brother. “Why would I want your opinion?”

  “Because I am in a loving, committed, mature relationship—”

  “Justin Matthew Silverton, I am going to kick your ass!” Valerie hollered from outside the barn.

  It was Everett’s turn to smirk. “You were saying?”

  Valerie came stomping into the barn seconds later, her simple black maternity dress covering up her small, rounded tummy. Everett thought his soon-to-be sister-in-law looked like a disgruntled kitten, what with her dark hair pulled back from her face in a ponytail, showing off bared teeth and slitted eyes.

  She was holding something in her hand that looked a little tie-dyed. “You are never allowed to do laundry again! Look at what you did to my new top!”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. I was just trying to help. I could hear you throwing up, and I know how that wipes you out, so—”

  Valerie burst into tears and sank onto a hay bale, burying her face in the ruined shirt. Justin looked up at Everett helplessly.

  Everett shrugged. “Don’t look at me. Women confuse me, even when they aren’t hormonal.”

  “Shut up, Everett!” Val wailed.

  Everett covered up a laugh with a cough as Justin went to sit next to his distraught fiancée, putting his arms around her. “I’m sorry, honey. He’s a jackass. We’ll get you a new top, okay?”

  “I’m so sorry I yelled at you,” Val said and wrapped her arms around Justin. She began kissing him everywhere she could reach, and before Everett could blink, they were caught up in a passionate embrace that made him both uncomfortable and envious.

  “Why don’t you two take that elsewhere? Some of us are trying to work.”

  Justin flipped him off, and Val pulled back, glaring as she stood up.

  “Come on.” Val tugged Justin to his feet and after whispering something in his ear, he was hauling her toward their house.

  Everett hopped out of the truck and picked up the next hay bale, his mind drifting back to Callie. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he missed her. It had been hard not to search for her in town, and he couldn’t even count how many times he’d taken the long way home past the radio station, just hoping to catch a glimpse of her. For a man who was determined to forget her, he was doing a piss-poor job.

  “Damn idjit!” his father yelled as he drove past on his quad.

  Angrily, he tossed the bale into the back and vowed to ignore his father’s obnoxiousness. Everett was doing what he knew was best for him.

  At least, he thought so.

  Considering how badly you wanted her to understand your mistake, aren’t you being a little hypocritical? Don’t get too judgmental. You’re not exactly a saint.

  Little niggles of doubt had been worming holes into his convictions for six days, and he’d been cursing fate for a week. Why would it have thrown her right in his path more than once and given them this magnetic connection if they weren’t supposed to be together?

  “WANT SOME CARAMEL corn?” Caroline asked as they walked past a row of food tents set up on the Silverton farm. Callie had tried to get out of going to the festival, but Caroline had begged her.

  Her reluctance didn’t have anything to do with the chance that she might bump into Everett. None at all.

  “No, thanks. I’m not really in the mood for popcorn.”

  “Since when?”

  Since she’d gone through two huge boxes of the buttery microwavable kind. She’d never eaten as much popcorn as she had since knocking on Everett’s door.

  When she’d gone to his front door, she’d been upset with him and had been ready to give him a piece of her mind, but then she’d seen the deep sorrow and disappointment beneath his anger, and she’d deflated.

  He’d had a point. Standing in his shoes and remembering the twelve years her mom had spent in a wine-induced haze, she knew without a doubt that she didn’t want someone like that for herself. Someone unreliable, who was ready to go off the deep end at any time . . .

  He’s got a bomb ticking inside him too.

  It was better this way for both of them. She knew that deep down. But there was a part of her that wished things could be different. She had just started to come around to the idea of liking him, of wanting something more than a TV dinner and a slapstick comedy every night.

  But that was over now.

  “I’m just not in the mood,” Callie said. “Besides, I was promised elephant ea
rs.”

  “And you shall have them, as soon as you tell me what is going on with you and Everett Silverton. Have you at least talked to him?”

  Callie, Caroline, and Fred had talked about everything under the sun that night after Everett left, but Fred hadn’t asked her why his son was so angry with her. She’d hoped it was obvious, that she wouldn’t have to talk about it. But Caroline had pestered her the next day like crazy, and she’d told her they’d bumped into each other a few times. That he’d come in for an interview at the station, but other than that, they were just friendly acquaintances.

  “No, I told you a thousand times, there is nothing going on—”

  “Hey, Callie!”

  Callie turned to find Dalton and a group of teenagers walking toward them.

  “Who is that?” Caroline asked.

  “Dalton, the intern at my station.”

  “Ah, the one with the crush on you.”

  “He does not have a crush on me,” Callie hissed under her breath.

  Dalton broke away from his group of friends, swaggering toward her as only a young cowboy could.

  “Um, do you not see the look in his eyes? It says, ‘Oh please, older and more experienced hot woman, I need you to show me the ropes and teach me a few new tricks.’ ”

  “Will you shut up?”

  “Ride it, my pony.”

  “I am going to take out your windpipe.”

  Caroline laughed and backed away. “I’ll go get us some food and drinks, but you still owe me. I don’t care if I have to hold you down and waterboard you—you will talk!”

  Callie made a face at Caroline’s retreating back before turning back to Dalton. Still, Caroline wasn’t wrong about the very-interested look he was giving her.

  Damn it!

  “Hey, I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Dalton said.

  “Well, technically, I was blackmailed into coming, but either way, I’m only here for the food.”

  “Are you sure? If we hurry, you could take a hay ride with me.”

  Ruh-roh. Dalton was definitely looking at her with interest. How had she missed that?

  “You know, I would, but my friend is fighting with her boyfriend and needs me tonight. Maybe another time?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He seemed so disappointed that she almost took it back, but what good would that do? She didn’t want to lead him on, and even if she wasn’t interested in someone else, there was no way she’d date an eighteen-year-old kid. “Well, I’ll go catch up to my friends. See you around.”

  Dalton jogged off as she was saying bye, and she saw a pretty blonde watching him sadly. Yuck—young unrequited love, the stuff of sleepless nights and misery. Not that she’d experienced much of it in high school herself, of course. She’d started dating Tristan when they were sixteen, and though they’d argued, the fights had never lasted long. Callie was so glad she was over all that.

  Aside from all the moping you’ve done in the last week, sure, you’ve really matured.

  It was true she’d been more depressed this week than she had been in a long time. Of course, receiving another letter from Tristan the day before hadn’t helped. Callie wondered why the frequency had picked up again. In the last two years, he’d only written a few times, but this was the second letter in a month.

  She didn’t want to know badly enough to read them, though. She wasn’t ready.

  All around her, families played games, and kids ran around, squealing happily. Life hadn’t been that joyous since before her dad left when she was eleven. He’d been having an affair for years and finally decided he would rather marry his mistress than be with them. At first, she had gone to stay with him every other weekend, just like the courts said, but once their first child was born, she’d ended up spending most of the time there on her own anyway. They were so busy cooing over the new baby, but she couldn’t even call him her little brother, not when she’d always felt like an outsider with them. After her father’s new wife had gotten pregnant with their second, a girl, and they talked to her about sharing the room that was supposed to be hers with the baby, she had stopped going. At first, her father had called and sent cards twice a year, but after a while, he became just a memory.

  He’d come to her mom’s funeral, so she could at least give him that, but he hadn’t been someone she could lean on for support. He was practically a stranger, and besides, with three other children, he didn’t really have time to devote to a grown child he hadn’t had a relationship with in ten years.

  Callie started walking between the vendors’ tents set up along the gravel driveway, but her dark thoughts blocked out the laughter and activity around her.

  Sure, she had some extended family, but her mother had been the only person she’d been close to, and even so, their relationship had always been complicated.

  Still, at least when her mom was alive, she’d had someone.

  As she passed by the food and game booths, she noticed a large tree with a swing close to Everett’s house. She was a little surprised she hadn’t seen him yet, actually. Maybe he was in the haunted maze, dressed up as a goblin or ghoul and jumping out at people. She’d seen Justin dressed as a scarecrow and Val as a witch when Caroline and she had first pulled in.

  Or maybe he’s inside his house, avoiding the crowds—and you.

  She headed toward the swing, surprised there wasn’t a gaggle of children surrounding it. Of course, it was away from all the other activities, shrouded in darkness. If the moon and Everett’s porch light hadn’t hit it just right, she might not have seen it.

  Once there, Callie sat down gingerly, testing the swing’s weight-bearing capabilities. When she was comfortable that it would hold her, she pushed off. She’d grown up with an old plank swing her grandfather had built her in their backyard and had spent most of her childhood out there, thinking, or crying, or laughing—depending on the day . . . and on whether or not her mother had fallen off the wagon.

  It was still crazy to her that after all the years she’d spent taking care of her mother—enduring her insults, drunken anger, and later, her whispered apologies—that Callie would still end up going down the same path. Coping with her pain by getting drunk, often to the point of blacking out and not remembering the night before. Anything to mask her fear and self-loathing.

  After two years of hangovers and nearly blowing her career, Callie had gone to Folsom with some friends, renting a hotel room so they wouldn’t have to drive. Two Adios Motherfuckers later, she was toast. Usually, she could drink more, but upon finishing the second drink, she’d immediately started feeling woozy. Her friends had ditched her for a couple of guys they’d met, and after she’d finished puking in the bar bathroom, she’d stumbled back to the hotel. The last thing she remembered was getting into the elevator before everything went black.

  When Callie woke up, her head had been underwater, and she’d come up gasping. Still out of it, it had taken her a minute to realize she was in her hotel room and that somehow she had ended up in the bathtub. The water was still running, and she was wearing nothing but a black camisole.

  For days after, Callie had freaked out, wondering what had happened and how she’d ended up in the tub. But the real nightmare was that she could have died. Again. She could have drowned or slipped and cracked her head open. A million scenarios had played through her mind until she’d finally said, “That’s it. I’m done.”

  The next day, she’d attended her first AA meeting and began turning her life around.

  Kicking her heels back, Callie soared higher on the swing, breathing in the crisp, cool air as it stung her cheeks. She smiled with pure joy, flying higher and higher. Closing her eyes, she held on to the ropes and propelled herself toward the sky.

  “I was right,” a deep voice said from below, breaking through her bliss.

  Her eyes flew open, and she dragged her feet against the ground, slowing down. Her gaze swung through the dim night to find Everett standing nearby.

  “Yo
u are insanely beautiful when you smile.”

  Chapter Eight

  EVERETT’S OBSERVATION WAS almost bitter. He’d been asking for a sign and here she was, smiling like a golden angel and just as innocent as she’d swung higher and higher.

  “What are you doing here?”

  The question came out harsher than he’d meant it, but he wanted her so bad that his hands were shaking. He’d had been sitting in his living room with the window open, the cool air and the sound of distant laughter blowing in as he’d read his worn copy of The Power of One. No romance tonight, not with the way he’d been feeling; he’d just wanted something familiar, comforting. Something he knew the ending to and wouldn’t be surprised or disappointed by. Then he’d heard it—the familiar creak of the old tree swing. He’d put his book down and peeked through the blinds, expecting to find a couple of kids pushing each other.

  Instead he’d seen a woman in the moonlight, pumping her legs until she was swinging high enough for her face to come out of the shadows.

  Callie.

  Heart hammering with excitement, Everett hadn’t even thought about why he shouldn’t get up or why he shouldn’t walk out of his house. Though really, he should’ve just let her be and left things as they were.

  As he’d drawn closer, he’d noticed her eyes were closed. Before he could call out to her, she’d smiled to herself and even released a husky, raw laugh.

  A laugh that had gone from his heart to his groin in one straight shot.

  Callie was bundled up in jeans and a puffy jacket, but her blonde curls had flown behind her in a mix of gold and crystal, flashing like streaks of lightning in the moonlight. His hands had itched to get tangled up in that mass of curls as he imagined pulling her against him, kissing those sweet lips until she relaxed, breathing in her sweet scent and holding her. Forgetting all about why she was bad for him and why things could never work between them.

  But before he could think better of it, he’d opened his mouth and told her she was beautiful.