“You didn’t have to. I’ve seen you more excited to pick strawberries than you were when you called him a ‘nice guy.’”

“I love strawberries,” Jenny said, crossing her arms in annoyance. “I only met him tonight. I’m not rendering any verdicts. Yet.”

“Are there sparks?” Tiffany said. “You’ve either got sparks or you don’t. Take it from me—I’ve had both, and there’s no mistaking sparks and no sparks.”

“Thank you for that sage wisdom, Obi-Wan, but the jury is still out on the sparks.”

Tiffany shook her head. “This isn’t good at all.”

“It’s just one guy,” Laura said, as if Jenny wasn’t standing right in front of her. “We’ll keep trying until we get it right.”

“No,” Jenny said. The word came out more forcefully than she’d intended. “No more fix-ups. For now anyway. I’ll probably see Linc again, and my parents are talking about coming to visit. I’ll let you know when I’m ready for more.”

“Fair enough,” Tiffany said, eyeing her shrewdly. “But we’re not giving up until you’re as happy as we are.”

“You’ve been warned,” Laura said with mock menace.

***

She’s ignoring me... As if that’ll get me to stop staring at her.

After sending the drinks, Alex had stayed at the bar, trying to give them both a bit of space after the shock of running into each other and realizing they had mutual friends. And she was here with a date. Awesome.

She told you she’s been dating here and there.

Nothing serious, she’d said. The blond dude in the pink shirt was awfully touchy-feely to say there was nothing serious going on between them. And how stupid did he look in a pink shirt anyway? What kind of self-respecting guy wore pink?

And you’re jealous.

I’m not jealous.

Yes, you are.

Caught in the middle of an argument with himself, he almost missed the conversation taking place two barstools from where he leaned against the bar.

“She was bare-ass naked,” a female voice said, “and running around the yard screaming at her son like he was twelve or something. It was hilarious. The woman is batshit crazy.”

Seeing red with rage, Alex pushed himself off the bar and took two steps to confront the woman, gasping when he realized it was Sharon, the manager of the retail store.

Her face went slack with shock when she saw him standing there. He could only imagine how furious he looked. “Mr. Martinez… I didn’t see you there.”

“Clearly.”

“I…um…”

“My mother is not ‘batshit crazy.’ She has dementia, which is a disease that affects her behavior and her memory.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Which is exactly why you should’ve kept your mouth shut.”

Her mouth fell open and then closed just as quickly.