Dotty poked her in the ribs and whispered, “Ever had sex on a church pew?”

Jolene blushed. “Shhh . . . God will aim lightning bolts at us for even thinkin’ that word in church.”

“What word?” Tucker asked from the other side.

Jolene mouthed, “Later.”

She was thinking about sex with Tucker on a church pew, her pulse and heart both racing when she glanced over to find him staring right at her. He laced his fingers with hers and leaned over to whisper, “You look gorgeous this morning.”

“Thank you,” she mouthed.

She was thinking about the night before and what Dotty said about sex on a church pew when the preacher jerked her back to the present by asking Jasper to give the benediction. Not one to ever use fifty words when two would do, his prayer was short and to the point. Everyone said amen with him at the end and didn’t waste any time making their way to the doors to shake the preacher’s hand. Then they’d hurry on home or to a favorite restaurant for Sunday dinner.

Jolene remembered a side door and quickly ushered Tucker out that way so they could get to the Magnolia before everyone else. She settled into his truck and fastened her seat belt.

“That was slick,” Tucker chuckled.

“Uncle Jasper showed me how to get out quicker when I was a little girl,” she said.

He drove out of the parking lot and turned south. “So we have to do this every week now?”

“I’m afraid so. Aunt Sugar says it’s good for the business and that it won’t hurt us to be still once a week. Confession time—I didn’t listen much to the preacher, but being there was kind of nice,” she said. “I haven’t been in church in twelve years, but we have this service this morning and then we have a funeral. Seems strange, don’t it?”

“It sure does, but I’m glad you were sitting beside me this morning and you’ll be beside me this afternoon.”

Tucker dragged out his black suit, a white shirt, and a tie and dusted off his best black boots. He’d sworn after Melanie’s funeral that he’d never put that suit on again, but he’d show respect, and besides, maybe wearing the suit was moving forward still another step. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, and something different shone in his face. The tension was gone, but then Jolene had come into his life and heart.

He made sure his tie was just right one more time and then stepped out into the foyer to find Jolene pacing the floor. “Are you okay?”

“These are your in-laws and I haven’t been to a funeral since my dad died—we didn’t have one for my mother. And I’m nervous about what they’ll think of me. I work in a bar and . . .”

“Well, nervous is a word I never thought I’d hear out of your mouth. I thought you were made tough as nails,” he said.

“That’s the exterior. The interior is a mixture of jelly and mush,” she said.

He started at the toes of her black high-heeled shoes and traveled up the slim black skirt that hugged her body and on up to the cute little jacket she wore over a silky-looking white blouse. They matched—him with his black suit and white shirt and her in that pretty suit. Had she worn that same one to her father’s funeral?

“You look as beautiful in that as you did in the blue sweater this morning, but I’ve got a confession to make.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders. “I like you better in your skinny jeans and work shirts. You’re downright sexy in those.”

She looped her arm in his. “I like you better in work clothes, too. I think this kind of getup means sadness and our everyday things speak to us of happiness.”

The wind had calmed down, and although it was chilly, the sun shone brightly. It was so unlike the storm, complete with thunder and lightning, the day that they’d held Melanie’s funeral and that last day he’d gone to the cemetery to see her. Maybe this day was just a reflection of what was in Tucker’s heart. On Melanie’s day he’d been so full of anger that he felt as if he could throw lightning bolts from his fingertips. But today, even though there was sadness, he was at peace with Luke’s passing.

When they reached the cemetery, Tucker helped Jolene out of the truck and took her hand in his. Just that much gave him comfort and courage. He slowed his stride to match hers, but when they reached the hearse, she let go and went on ahead to stand beside a tall pine tree. The funeral director opened the back of the hearse, and Tucker took his place with Melanie’s brothers on one side. Three men he wasn’t familiar with served as the other pallbearers.

As they carried the casket to the gravesite, Tucker could hear the rustling of last year’s dead oak leaves in the trees above them. But once they’d positioned the casket on the stand and stood back in a line, he heard a button click and Garth Brooks’s voice filled the air as he sang “The Dance.” The words said that he could have missed the pain but he’d have had to miss the dance.

It wasn’t what most people would choose to play for a funeral. It was actually a song to a lover who had left, but it wasn’t difficult to realize that it could be written to Luke from Carla on that day. Tucker glanced over at Jolene to see her wiping her eyes. Evidently the song was hitting her the same way.

Tucker thought about everything he and Jolene had been through and realized he was ready to do more than just share a bed with her. He was ready to share his life with her.