April described what she’d found when she arrived and the changes she’d made. As she spoke, her love for the house shone through. “We’re further along up here than downstairs. All the beds have been set up, but there’s not much else. I was planning to attend some estate sales soon to supplement the furniture he’s already ordered.”

“Where are the doors?”

“Being stripped and refinished. I couldn’t stand the idea of putting in new ones.”

Downstairs, the front door opened. April’s expression clouded, and she quickly rose to her feet. Blue needed to leave them alone, so she stood, too.

“I have to call the contractor,” April said as Dean came up the stairs.

“Don’t bother. I’ll figure it out.”

April’s jaw set. “Spoken like someone who’s never renovated a house.”

“I think I can handle it,” he said tightly. “If I have any questions, I’ll be sure to send you an e-mail.”

“I need at least a week to get everything organized before I can leave.”

“Forget it. I want you out of here tomorrow.” He propped his foot on the top step, blocking Blue’s exit point. He stared coldly at his mother. “I made a reservation for you at the Hermitage in Nashville. If you’d like to stay there a few extra days, put it on my tab.”

“I can’t leave that fast. There’s too much going on.”

“You’ll have tonight to get organized.” He deliberately turned his back on her so he could inspect the bathroom.

The first hint of entreaty came into April’s voice. “I can’t walk away from this job, Dean. Not when I have so much invested in it.”

“Hey, you’re good at walking away. Remember how it was? The Stones arrived in the States. You were gone. Van Halen played Madison Square Garden. Hello, Big Apple. Be out of here by tomorrow night.”

Blue watched April lift her chin. She was a tall woman. Even so, she had to look up at him. “I don’t like to drive at night.”

“You used to tell me that night was the best time to be on the road.”

“Yeah, but I was stoned then.”

Her response was so in-your-face that Blue couldn’t help feeling at least a little admiration.

“The good old days.” A corner of Dean’s mouth curled unpleasantly, and he headed back down the steps.

April followed him, addressing the back of his neck, her show of rebellion fading. “A week, Dean. Is that too much to ask?”

“We don’t ask things from each other, remember? Hell, of course you remember. You’re the one who taught me that.”

“Just…let me finish here.”