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Jessie was unhappy with the prospect of working side by side with him.
    But as Jessie began to gather empty coffee cups to take into the house, he hoped that that wasn’t the case.
    And not just because the morning sunshine glistened off her hair like spun copper.
    But because as home repairs went, doing them side by side with her took all the chore out of it for him.
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    â€œWhen I says g’night to my grampa I kisses his cheek. But Grampa says that when other mens says g’night they pro’bly shakes han’s.”
    And with that explanation, Adam held out his tiny hand for Flint to shake.
    Jessie watched Flint fight to keep from laughing, smiling instead as he accepted Adam’s outstretched hand and shook it. “Good night, Adam. Sleep tight.”
    â€œTha’s what my mama says,” Adam exclaimed before he ran off to join his brother, sisters and grandparents as they all went in the rear door of Jessie’s house.
    â€œYour son cracks me up,” Flint said, releasing the laugh he’d been so obviously holding in.
    Jessie smiled at Flint’s comment as she watched her youngest disappear inside.
    The day had ended the way it had begun—at a picnic table. Only tonight it was the picnic table in Jessie’s backyard where she, her four kids, her parents and Kelsey, Coop, Anthony and Flint had all shared the grilled chicken that Jeannie Hunt had prepared for dinner.
    It was nearly nine o’clock now, however, and much the way the rest of the day and evening had gone, Kelseyhad orchestrated things so that she and Coop took Anthony home at the same time that Jack and Jeannie Hunt were dispatched to put Ella, Braden, Bethany and Adam to bed, leaving Jessie and Flint sitting directly across from each other at the picnic table. Alone.
    â€œThey’re all great kids,” Flint added. “And every one of them looks like you. Especially Ella—she’s a miniature version of you.”
    â€œI can see their father in each of the kids in small ways,” Jessie answered Flint’s observation, trying to hide her embarrassment at her sister’s less-than-subtle manipulations to put them together. “She’s also taller than I was at her age, and lanky, the way Pete was. And when she frowns—”
    â€œWhich she seems to do a lot,” Flint remarked.
    â€œEspecially when she sees me.”
    â€œI’m sorry about that. I know she’s sort of treating you like the enemy. There was something about your catching me when I nearly fell off the drier yesterday…” Something that had also imprinted every tiny nuance on Jessie’s brain to relive over and over again. “Well, whatever it was, Ella didn’t like the look of it and you seem to be getting the full blame. I think she’ll get over it in a day or two, but for now—”
    â€œI’m not the guy who just kept you from falling, I’m the guy who got too up close and personal with her mom.”
    Up close and personal enough for Jessie to smell the clean, woodsy scent of his cologne. To see even more clearly the flecks of gold that illuminated his dark eyes. To have felt those steely shoulders in the grip of her own hands…
    She swallowed hard, feeling as breathless as she had in the moment.
    â€œAnyway, give her a day or two, and Ella will probably come around,” Jessie finally managed to say when she’d dragged herself out of her split-second reverie.
    Flint didn’t respond to that, instead he went on with what they’d been talking about before. “And the twins, they seem like the spitting image of you, too. How do they look like their dad?”
    â€œTheir coloring is all Pete—the lighter hair and eyes. And Adam has Pete’s smile and his turned-up nose.”
    Flint nodded, but his eyes were on her intently the whole time, as if he were gauging his words before he said, “Do you mind if I ask how he