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Of course I was illogically hurt because I thought that we’d bonded, but apparently it was just another blow job to him. I should have been happy that I had dodged the bullet of his illness as well as his clearly cavalier attitude toward sex, but while the first seemed horrible, the second was sad. I’d thought we were both in the market for something deeper, and to be wrong felt like my instincts were for crap. I was clearly a terrible judge of character. The only good news was that I didn’t need to dwell on my failure now. I had four years to figure it all out before my daughter went away to college. I’d worry about it much later.
    Ivy was having dinner with her best friend, Julia Kent, at her house because Sharon, Julia’s mom, needed help making up the wedding favors for her Saturday nuptials. It was going to be a sweet, small private wedding in her backyard, where she and Fuller Denny were tying the knot. I’d met them both, very nice salt-of-the-earth types, and the gift bags going next to everyone’s plates were 100-percent organic and biodegradable, as was everything going inside. Julia had pressed her best buddy into service with her, and when I called to make sure that Ivy’s help would indeed be appreciated, Sharon nearly broke down thanking me. Apparently Ivy being there, excited for her, was helping Julia be a bit more accepting.
    “Your daughter’s a godsend,” she assured me.
    It was always good to hear that.
    I talked to Ivy, told her I’d be over by nine to pick her up, and headed home from the office. It had been a low-key day. Only one call for sunburn, one from a woman who’d locked her poodle in her car for—gasp—at least two and a half minutes, and one from Jeremy Riley’s mom, who had another emergency with him and his latest thrill ride. I had no idea how they even got the wood up onto the roof without her knowing—or the grocery cart for that matter. They were about to try the latest coaster of death when I got there and called them all down instead.
    “You’re making your mother crazy,” I informed the eleven-year-old.
    “She needs to embrace her inner daredevil,” he volleyed.
    “You’re so grounded,” I responded, shaking my head.
    “Whatever Chief Dodd is telling you, you better believe it!” Candace Riley shrieked from her front door.
    Jeremy groaned. “You’re a buzzkill, man.”
    I knew that. It came with the job.
    “I thought firemen were risktakers.”
    “Only when we’re saving people,” I said, setting him straight.
    The second groan from him was even more pained than the first.
    As I turned onto my street, I saw Britton Lassiter walking toward me with his newly adopted daughter, Katie, on his shoulders. She waved to me and he slowed. It was cute how she had her hands in his hair, holding onto his head. I had carried Ivy the same exact way.
    “Hey,” I greeted them.
    He gave me a wincing smile.
    “Jesus, what’s wrong with you?”
    “His mommy and daddy, my new grandparents, are at my house again,” Katie announced happily. “They’re going to stay the whole month!”
    My gaze met Britton’s. “That sounds great.”
    “Does it?” he snapped.
    I scoffed. “Weren’t they just here?”
    “Uh-huh.” His voice sounded so strained.
    “They like the beach, do they?”
    “No, not really.”
    I tipped my head at Katie.
    “That’s right,” he told me. “Lazlo too.”
    Britton had worried—the whole town knew he had—about how his parents would take the news that he was gay. By all accounts, they were very kind people, so it wasn’t a stretch to find out that they wanted only the best for their son, and as that was so obviously Lazlo––who lit up like a neon sign whenever Britton came near him––the fact that they were on board with the relationship was not a surprise. What had been was the revelation that along with a new son-in-law, they got their first grandchild as well. Katie, the epitome of cuteness and smarts, was a gift.
    I