“Easy now,” she chides at me. “You can break those plates, but it won’t make you feel any better.”

“You sure about that?”

I can feel her eyeing me skeptically as I finish up the silverware, but I keep my focus away.

“Don’t let him get under your skin,” she says, stirring the soup.

“Oh, don’t let it bother me that he walks in and acts like he owns the place? I’ve been here since last summer, and where was he?”

Ruby just laughs. “I think I might just have to pop me some popcorn. With your attitudes combined...oooh boy, this is going to be quite a show.”

Of course, she thinks it’s funny. Her entire future isn’t riding on this territorial asshole coming in to ruin everything.

“That’s how these kids are. She takes them in and then sends them off. They get a hold of money for the first time in their lives, and they don’t come back. Murph is just special because he was her first.”

I pause and glance at her, desperate to know the rest of the story. “She had just ended her last marriage and was pretty broke about it—it was abusive toward the end, so I think Ms. Hazel just wanted something to distract her. Shortly after, she met Mr. Murphy. He was only seventeen and was just about to age out of the system. He was her sister’s foster kid. And they just hit it off. She put him through art school, bought him his shop, and helped him save up for his own house. When he enlisted and left town, she was so broken up about it. But then, she found another.”

“Oh, God,” I drawl. “Please don’t tell me they were…” I widen my eyes at Ruby, and she slaps my arm.

“Savannah!” she scolds me, like I’m crazy to think there’s something weird about a teenage boy and an old lady bonding. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

I can’t hold back my laugh. It was never any secret to me that I was one of Hazel’s charity cases. I just didn’t realize there had been more before me.

I’m about to ask about the other one when a presence in the doorway to the kitchen grabs my attention. He’s standing there in a tight T-shirt and dark jeans. There’s a wisp of chest hair poking out from the top of his v-neck, and it’s pausing the thoughts in my head. In our very short embrace earlier, I didn’t quite register in my mind just how built this guy was. His shoulders are broader but still has all of the softness required to make me crazy and want to crawl back into his lap so he could wrap those arms around me.

My eyes land on the tattoos adorning his arms from his wrists all the way up into his sleeves. Then it all makes sense. The morning glory is Hazel’s favorite flower. Of course, he got it for her.

He’s still standing there while I ogle his tattoos from across the room. I hate the feeling of him watching me work, but I also love the idea that I can drive him crazy with the way I move. So when I have to put the wine glasses on the top shelf, I make sure to really drive my hips back, knowing full well that my backside is on full display.