Like a magnet, my gaze is drawn to Jace. He’s leaning casually against one of the beams that marks the opening between the entryway and living room with his hands tucked into the pockets of his black dress pants. The matching blazer is unbuttoned, revealing the blue dress shirt he’s wearing underneath. His eyes meet mine, and I’m seared by the heat in his gray gaze.

“Oh, that dress is perfect on you, Vivienne!” Ellen exclaims, looking me over. “I’m so glad we found it.”

“Me, too,” I reply, dropping Jace’s gaze to look over at her. “Thank you again, Ellen.”

“Of course, dear.” She smiles warmly.

I glance over at Claire, who’s standing on the last stair bouncing eagerly. “I love your dress, Claire.”

She beams in response to my compliment, tugging on her own velvet dress. It’s a brilliant shade of dark blue that hangs just past her knees, revealing a few inches of the white tights she’s wearing underneath. A thundering sound draws my attention to the top of the stairs, where Mike has appeared. He’s dressed identically to Jace, except his dress shirt is white rather than blue.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Mike comes to a stop next to Claire at the bottom of the stairs.

Everyone else grabs their jackets as I button mine up.

“You look beautiful.” Jace appears at my side as he shrugs into his coat. I glance up to see him smiling softly down at me.

“Thanks,” I reply quietly, feeling uncharacteristically shy.

His smile turns sly. “I was kind of hoping you’d break out that outfit from the football party again.”

I raise my eyebrows. “I didn’t realize you even noticed what I was wearing that night, let alone had any particular feelings about it.”

“Every guy at that party noticed what you were wearing, Vivienne.”

“Well, I didn’t wear it for every guy at the party,” I admit, holding his gaze. He opens his mouth, but I answer his question before he has a chance to ask it. “I took your efforts to keep me from attending to mean you would be there.”

“Vivienne! Jace! You guys coming?” Mike’s voice interrupts our conversation.

I turn to see everyone else is already headed toward the car. Jace and I follow. The air has warmed since my run earlier, the temperature hovering in the high forties now that the sun is at full blast.

Mike, Jace, and I squeeze across the middle seat. Once everyone is situated, Mr. Dawson begins to drive down the driveway. He turns the opposite way from how we drove to the high school.

About ten minutes later, he turns up a long driveway marked by a black sign that has Williams Farm written on it in white letters. Three gold balloons are tied to the wooden signpost. We drive up a dirt driveway that is identical to the Dawsons’, aside from the fact it is much more uneven.

As we bounce along, Jace tells me, “Imagine the damage you could do to the cart on a road like this.”