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continued.
    “Which is?”
    “Fear of intimacy, obviously.”
    “I do not fear intimacy!”
    Chloe lifted her shoulders. “Physically injuring every man who gets close is a pretty effective way of keeping men at a distance, don’t you think?”
    “I’m not doing it on purpose! I
want
a relationship.”
    “You say you do, but actions speak louder than words.” Chloe placed the shirt in the clothes basket. “Deep down, you’re afraid of getting hurt like you did with Lance.”
    Even after a year and a half, the thought of her former boyfriend made her stomach tighten. Not because she felt any lingering affection—she was long over the cheesy cheating ratfink—but because the experience had rocked her trust in her own judgment.
    “Thank you for that analysis, Dr. Freud.” Sammi carefully pulled apart the corners on the bag of popcorn. Buttery-scented steam filled the air.
    “Don’t mention it. I’ll send you my bill.”
    The doorbell rang, interrupting their conversation. Joe ran for the door, barking loudly.
    “That must be Mr. Landry now.”
    “Good luck,” Chloe said, taking the popcorn out of Sammi’s hands and helping herself to a mouthful.

    The faint balsamic scent of sweetgum leaves wafted on the breeze as Walter Landry stood on the stoop of his rental house. He punched the doorbell again, then turned to look at the huge tree towering in the front yard. The sight made his chest tighten. Helen had planted that tree some thirty-odd years ago. He remembered chiding her for it at the time.
    “Sweetgums drop those messy seedballs all over the place,” he’d complained. “That tree will just litter up the lawn.”
    “Oh, Walter, it’s worth a little fuss,” Helen had said. “The leaves smell so sweet, and they’re shaped like little stars. And they’re such a deep shade of green that one tree feels like a whole forest.”
    Hadn’t that been just like Helen, he thought with a bone-deep ache—always seeing the beauty in the world. And hadn’t that been just like him—always pointing out the problems.
    Loud barking inside the house made him turn back around. He heard Sammi’s voice on the other side of the door, a noise that sounded like scuffling, then the click of the lock unsnapping. The door creaked open, and Sammi’s apple-cheeked face appeared in the open doorway. Sammi’s light brown—or was it dark blond?—hair fell in her face as she struggled to restrain an enormous dog by the collar. “Hello, Mr. Landry. Thanks for coming.”
    The dog lunged toward him, his pink tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Alarmed, Walter pulled his hands from the pockets of his khakis and stepped back.
    “Down, Joe.” Sammi used both hands on the dog’s collar to pull him back. “Sit.”
    The dog reluctantly obeyed.
    Sammi looked up sheepishly. “Sorry. Sometimes his greetings are overly exuberant.”
    The dog’s stump of a tail thumped on the floor. Walter relaxed a little. At least the monster looked friendly. “Got yourself a pet, I see.”
    “Oh—I hope you don’t mind.” Sammi’s brow scrunched together over her hazel eyes. “I didn’t think to ask about your pet policy.” She talked fast, as if she were trying to chase away his objections. “He’s completely house-trained, but I’ll be happy to put up a deposit for him if you’d like.”
    Walter waved his hand. “No, no. Not necessary.” He didn’t allow pets on any of his other rental properties, but in this case, it didn’t matter. The condition of the house was not likely to affect the property value of the place, because anyone who bought it was likely to tear it down.
    “Well, come in, come in.” Sammi stepped back, her hands still on the dog’s collar.
    Walter walked into the tiny foyer and paused. He hadn’t been inside the house since she’d moved in. He’d given her carte blanche to do whatever she wanted to the place, and boy, had she been busy. The place looked like a million bucks when they’d first