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Grant Hubert, a banker. I’d lay odds that the kid is his and there’s a wedding going to happen in the not-so-distant future.”
    Nick didn’t even attempt to talk about the lump that suddenly appeared in his throat.
    “If you plan on sticking around town for a while there are plenty of single, pretty women,” Adam said.
    “Then why haven’t you found one?”
    Adam gave him a dark glance. “You don’t find many available women in the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. I wouldn’t mind a drink right now.”
    “Yeah, well, I would mind. Maybe it’s time to pull your nose out of the bottle and take a look around,” Nick said as he pulled into the café parking lot. “Looks busy.”
    “We’re right in the middle of dinner rush,” Adam replied. Together they got out of the truck and went into the establishment, where glasses clinked and conversation buzzed.
    Nick spotted a booth being cleaned in Courtney’s section. He quickly led Adam to that booth.
    He saw the frown that danced across Courtney’s face as they settled in. What was he doing? He felt as if he were picking at old wounds, tearing away scabs to make those wounds bleed. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
    Seeing her again had stirred up so many old emotions, feelings that he hadn’t expected, didn’t realize he possessed. He wasn’t sure what to do with them, or how to resolve them with the present.
    At the moment all he could do was place his dinner order with her. She was curt and professional as she took their orders, her gaze never quite meeting his.
    As he walked away, Nick looked around the busy café, noticing people he’d never seen before. “Lots of unfamiliar faces,” he said to Adam.
    “Two years is a long time. People move away, new people move in.”
    “Who is the guy in the wheelchair?” Nick nodded toward a nearby table where a man in a motorized scooter sat at a table alone.
    “Brandon Williams. He came to town about six months ago. Nice guy...war veteran. Had his legs shot up with shrapnel and it left him with some facial scarring, but he buzzes all over town in that scooter.”
    For the next few minutes Adam told Nick who some of the other unfamiliar people in the café were, and by that time Courtney arrived to bring their drink orders. As she set them down, Nick caught a whiff of her perfume beneath the scent of the cooking food. Jasmine. He’d asked her once what it was because he loved the smell of it on her skin.
    She whirled away from the table and he felt the chill that emanated from her. He knew he’d hurt her when he’d left, but she’d obviously moved on pretty quickly. So, why was she holding such a grudge against him now?
    And why on earth did he care? He had no intention of sticking around town. She apparently was happy with Mr. Banker Grant Hubert. It was over...long done. She was the past, and Nick tried to live his life never looking back.
    * * *
    Courtney felt as if she’d suddenly grown ten awkward thumbs and wooden legs that barely functioned, and it was all because he was here.
    Why couldn’t he eat at home or at least sit someplace where she didn’t have to serve him, didn’t even have to look at him? Why did he seem to be under her nose every time she turned around?
    She wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight, but Mary had called earlier in the day and told her she’d had two waitresses who had called in sick and asked if Courtney could work the dinner rush between five and seven.
    Reluctantly she’d agreed because she could always use the extra money. But if she’d known that Nick would be here tonight, she would have just stayed at home with Garrett and had Mary contact one of the other waitresses not working tonight.
    As she hurried away from their table and toward Brandon Williams, she was aware of Nick’s gaze following her.
    She wanted to turn around and scream at him to stop it, that it wasn’t right that his gaze still had the power to warm her from top to bottom.
    Instead she