Neil’s my favorite therapist here at Grandma’s nursing home. The other ones are fine, but Grandma’s happiest when she’s around Neil’s upbeat personality. I am too.

“My Raegan is single now,” Grandma says matter-of-factly. “Maybe you’d be interested in taking her on a date.”

“Gran, I don’t think I’m Neil’s type.”

“Nonsense,” she says, splashing water at me. “Neil, are you only allowed to date Egyptian women? Or are you one of those boys who likes the stick-thin model types?”

Neil and I exchange knowing smiles. “Oh, I am a fan of the sticks.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

I do my best to suppress my laughter, but the confused look on Grandma’s face is priceless.

Neil and I take my grandmother through her exercises for the next half-hour. I’m thankful to be here while she’s having such a good day. I have to take what I can get, because I never know when the tides will turn.

“How’s work, Rae?” Grandma asks.

“It’s great. Counting down the days until Thanksgiving break. I could use a couple days off.”

“Nothing like the slaughtering of the indigenous people to get everyone excited,” Neil says. “Please tell me you don’t still teach those kids about the Pilgrims and the Native Americans sharing a peaceful meal together.”

“They’re only five. I can’t exactly tell them about how the Native Americans were raped and pillaged.”

Neil sighs. “I get that, I suppose.” He glances over the top of my head and a grin spreads across his face. “Now that right there is my type.”

I look over my shoulder as discreetly as I can, following Neil’s gaze. Then my entire body stills in the water.

Jaxon’s standing at the edge of the steps, guiding an older man into the pool. His black swim trunks sit low on his hips—Jaxon’s, not the old man’s. No suit. No tie. His upper body is completely bare.

My eyes blaze a trail up his chiseled abdomen, over his smooth, broad chest, around the striations in his shoulders. How could I not remember seeing this the night we met? Stupid whiskey shots.

Neil chuckles. “He’s so sexy, he rendered you speechless.”

“That’s my boss,” I whisper-yell, unable to tear my eyes away.

“Your boss?” Neil’s head whips back and forth between Jaxon and me. “Oh, honey, that man can order me around any day.”

“I don’t want him to see me. You have to help me get out of here.”

“Oh, look,” Grandma says, raising her hand to wave. “There’s Samuel Waters.”

It takes all my strength not to push my grandmother’s head under the water and hold her there until she stops waving at Jaxon’s grandfather. Memory’s working just fine today, huh?

“Too late,” Neil whispers. “He’s already spotted you.”