“I honestly don’t know what I am,” she answered finally. “A mess, I suspect. But you’re not that guy, Wade. This was my fault. You’ve been a friend. A good friend, and that’s where we need to leave it.”

He said nothing as he reached for the paddle and turned them about. Christy-Lynn was quiet too, studying the angular set of his shoulders as he maneuvered the canoe back toward shore. She had hurt him. Or at the very least confused him. She should have been more careful—for both their sakes. Instead, she had chosen to ignore the danger signs that had apparently been smoldering for some time. It was Wade she had turned to for help, after all, Wade she’d wept her heart out to when she learned about Iris, Wade she felt drawn to whenever she found herself needing a shoulder. But that had to do with his connection to Stephen—didn’t it?

Wade wasted no time climbing out of the canoe when they reached shore, offering a brief hand as she followed clumsily. He took the deck steps two at a time, not bothering to look back as he disappeared through the open sliding glass doors. Christy-Lynn was happy to lag behind, relieved to have time to rein in her emotions.

The kitchen was empty when she finally stepped back into the cabin. Wade’s manuscript was lying on the counter beside their empty ice-cream bowls. She picked it up along with her purse, wishing she knew what else to say.

She found Wade in the living room, busily reshelving a stack of CDs. He looked up when she entered the room, his expression dark but unreadable. “Why?”

She stared at him, baffled. “Why what?”

“Why do we have to leave it there?”

She sighed, wishing she could make him understand. “Because we do. Because I do. I’m just getting my feet back under me, Wade. I’m not ready for complications. And that’s what you’d be. I know that sounds harsh, but I’ve basically had one adult relationship in my life, and it didn’t end well. I don’t need another failure on my record.”

He stood with his legs braced wide apart, his arms stiff at his sides. “My feet aren’t exactly firmly planted either, Christy-Lynn, but there’s something here, something we both felt tonight. Maybe it’s just physical—and maybe it isn’t—but our paths keep crossing. Maybe that means something.”

Christy-Lynn clutched the manuscript to her chest, as if to shield herself from the pull of his words. “You’re right. There is a connection. It’s there, and it’s real—but it’s Stephen. It’s all the damage he’s done, all the ways he cheated and lied and screwed us both over. That’s what we have in common. My dead husband. But that’s a therapy session not a romance. I can’t afford to get the two confused.”

Wade folded his arms, his face suddenly closed. “So where does that leave us?”

She would have touched him then, if she thought she could trust herself. Instead, she reached for a smile or what she hoped passed for one. “Where we’ve always been, I hope—friends.”

“Does that ever work? Going back to being friends?”

“It was a kiss, Wade. We don’t have to let it get weird.”

“Right,” he said, though his nod was less than convincing. “No weirdness.”

“Exactly. Look, I’m going to go.” She held up the manuscript. “I’ve got reading to do.”

He followed her to the door, hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets. “For the record, when I asked you over tonight, I wasn’t planning some big seduction scene.”

“I know you weren’t. And it might be better if we just pretend the whole thing never happened.”

Wade held her gaze as he pulled back the door. “I’m not sure that’s going to be possible for me.”

Christy-Lynn said nothing as she stepped onto the porch, the memory of Wade’s lips on hers still much too fresh. She wasn’t sure it was going to be possible for her either.

THIRTY-SIX

Sweetwater, Virginia

July 12, 2017

Christy-Lynn flipped her pillow over, giving it another sharp punch. She’d been lying awake for nearly an hour, though this time her insomnia had nothing to do with bad dreams. Her thoughts kept returning to her upcoming trip to Riddlesville, rehearsing ways to convince Rhetta to accept her help. If a check for $10,000 had spooked her, she was really going to slam on the brakes when she found out what kind of money they were talking about now.

Resigned, she sat up and clicked on the bedside lamp. If she wasn’t going to sleep, she might as well work. She still hadn’t finished the book club flyer for the store, and her in-box was out of control.

She was reaching for her laptop when she spotted the stack of pages Wade had given her more than a week ago. She had yet to touch them. Not because she’d been too busy, but because they were an awkward reminder of their impromptu kiss. Yes, she was the one who said it didn’t have to get weird, and she meant it, but for a while at least, it seemed wise to keep her distance. And that included his manuscript.

Not that he’d been around much since that night. In fact, he seemed to be keeping enough distance for the both of them. But maybe that was for the best. Maybe he was right. Maybe going back to being friends really didn’t work. Maybe once you crossed that line you were either all in or all out. And if that was the case, she had no choice but to opt for all out.