From what all the women said, Dan could wear anything he wanted, because he was so good-looking he could get away with it. Whatever. Grant loved to bust on him about how out of place his West Coast style was on their East Coast island, but his opinion on such things didn’t matter to Dan. No, Dan was far more interested these days in Grant’s opinion of the book he was laboring to write about the unjust convictions he’d helped to overturn.

Ever since the day they’d spent in freezing-cold water together after a sailboat accident, Dan had felt more like a brother than a friend, and Grant was thrilled to have him around—not that he’d ever tell Dan that. His ego was big enough without that kind of validation.

Dan slid into the booth across from Grant. “Sorry I’m late. My mom called right when I was leaving, and she’s full of questions about me and Kara.” Dan rolled his eyes. “She’s like a dog with a bone.”

“Nice. Comparing your mother to a dog. How did she find out about the ‘bone,’ as you call it?”

“I refuse to refer to the woman I love as ‘the bone.’”

“Why? Does it give you a boner?”

“Jesus. Shut up, will you? I might’ve made the huge mistake of mentioning that I’d met someone here. You should know how mothers of sons in their mid-thirties get hopeful at the first sign of commitment of any kind.”

“So it’s your own fault that she’s planning the wedding.”

“Yes, I guess it is.”

“Speaking of weddings, is there going to be one?”

“Not you, too! We’re not talking about weddings or other such foolishness. We’re enjoying our time together. Why isn’t that enough for everyone?”

“Because you’re no longer in your mid-thirties. You’re thirty-six now, which is that side of forty rather than this side of thirty. You ain’t getting any younger.”

Dan picked up the bread knife and ran it over his wrist.

“Not sharp enough,” Grant said. “And I didn’t waste an entire day saving your sorry life so you could end it with a dull butter knife just because your mom wants you to get married.”

“Wasted? I’m hurt.”

“Not anymore you aren’t. So what’s stopping you from popping the question? You know you don’t want to let her get away.”

“What’s stopping you from getting married? Seems to me you popped the question quite some time ago, but I don’t hear any bells ringing in your neighborhood either.”