Kaden narrowed his eyes. Had he misremembered?

Across from them sat two young women—a redhead wearing black boots and equally black lipstick who was clearly a Haywood, and a young woman with light brown skin and dark hair that fell to her chin—both in their twenties. Another young woman with dark hair pulled back at the nape of her neck stood chopping fresh vegetables at the counter, and beside her Irene was pulling a pizza out of the oven.

She tugged off her oven mitts, turned to him, and said, “I didn’t think you’d show.”

“I want to see how the leaves play out,” he said, which put a smile on Irene’s lips.

“This is the guy?” asked the woman at the cutting board as she set down the knife.

“You’ve met?” Irene asked her.

“I saw him heading into the shop earlier today. If I’d realized it was him, I might’ve stuck around.” She extended a hand. “Addison Haywood.”

Kaden glanced from Addison to Irene. “Your daughter?”

“I’m full of surprises today, apparently,” Irene said. “That’s my niece, Quinn—Taylor’s daughter. Her girlfriend, Harper. Clem and Taylor you already know.”

“Kaden Bonner,” he said. “Nice to meet all of you.”

“Wait,” Taylor said, “that’s definitely not the name you gave at the bed and breakfast. You’re a Bonner?”

“I still don’t understand why you invited him for dinner,” Addison said. She blushed and looked to Kaden. “Sorry. You seem nice enough.”

He shrugged and somehow felt like he should be the one apologizing.

“All I wanted to do was sell rosemary to Sylvia Bonner, and you about lost your shit,” Addison said to her mother. “Now you’ve invited a Bonner into our home?”

“Twice!” Maura called as she stuck her head into the kitchen.

Kaden raised his hand in a wave. She arched an eyebrow.

“Kaden is here because I saw him in my leaves,” Irene said. “And you know what we say.”

“Always trust the leaves,” Quinn said.

Addison crossed her arms. “And never trust a Bonner.”

“You told me your name was Mike Smith,” Taylor said.

“I lied,” Kaden said.

“Not a great start,” Maura called from the other room.

“He’s Nate’s older brother,” Irene said to the younger women in the room. “He left town back in the ’90s.”

“I take it you don’t want your mom knowing you’re here?” Taylor asked.

“Not just yet,” Kaden said. “And since no one I’ve run into today seems to remember me, I’m doing pretty good so far.”

“I recognize you,” Quinn said.

Maura stepped into the kitchen, poured herself a drink, and took the spot at the head of the table. “Probably because he looks like his brother.”

“Maybe. If Nate hadn’t spent the last twenty-five years drinking as much bourbon as he makes,” Clem said.