“Yes,” Jenny said, transported back to that horrible day and the panic she’d heard in Toby’s normally calm voice. “He knew. The plane hit below his floor.”

“God,” Alex said with a sigh.

“Where were you that day?” she asked, turning her hand so her palm was flat against his.

“I was in California visiting a friend from college. I was supposed to fly back to Boston that day, but everything was canceled for days afterward.”

“I suppose it was. The first few weeks were a bit of a blur for me. I don’t remember much about it.” She forced a smile for his benefit. “So how about that movie you promised me?”

“You got it. I’ll even let you pick.”

“Ohhh, I see a chick flick in your future.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”

“Oh yes, I definitely would.” Their playful banter was a welcome relief after the conversation about the worst day of her life. She appreciated that he had questions and was happy to answer them, but she also appreciated that he knew when not to linger on that topic.

They worked together to clean up from dinner, and Jenny teased Alex about his poor dishwasher-loading skills.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those who sorts the silverware.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you that,” Jenny said as she arranged the forks, knives and spoons into separate compartments.

“That’s just so wrong. Throw it all in there.” He reached for the knives, clearly intending to mess them up, and Jenny grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Don’t even think about it. I won’t be able to sleep tonight if they aren’t sorted.”

“I’m going to mess them up after you leave.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

The gleam in his eye was positively sinister as he came toward her. “Wouldn’t I?”

Jenny dodged him and took off out of the kitchen, squealing with laughter.

He was right behind her and grabbed her around the waist. Somehow they landed in a mess of arms and legs on the sofa, their lips perfectly aligned.

“Wait,” Jenny said, turning her head before he could kiss her. “Your mother. What if she comes out?”

“She won’t. She sleeps pretty soundly.”

“Still…”

Groaning, he dropped his head to her shoulder. “Come on. You don’t expect me to actually watch the movie, do you?”

“Yes, I do,” Jenny said primly, pushing at his shoulders to dislodge him.

Alex sat up, complaining all the way. “You’re absolutely no fun.”

“I’ll remember you said that the next time we’re alone. Now what are my choices for movies?”

He sighed—deeply—and then reached for the remote.