I leaned the broom against the brick. “You’re selling out your only son’s secrets for donuts?”

Midge shrugged. “Am I proud of it? No. Am I still gonna do it? Yeah.”

Mom hugged my ribs, too short to reach any higher. “She’s only teasing, sweetheart. Unless Drew Tyler starts baking those lemon squares I love, and then all bets are off.”

Tabitha was smirking over the rim of her cup. We shared an amused look, but I tore my eyes away before I could read too much into my comfort level around her.

“How did you sleep last night?” Midge asked. “Do you need food? Do you want some leftovers, or will we see you for dinner?”

I let her kiss me on the cheek. “I can come by for dinner, yeah. I need to swing by the rec center to help Rowan, but after I’ll hang that wallpaper in the upstairs bathroom for you.”

“And bring my grandson along. The one I haven’t seen in three days and who’s basically abandoned me,” Alice added.

“I can pass along that message.”

“Bless you, Dean. What would we do without you?” Alice said.

I nodded at her but didn’t respond. I rolled my shoulders back again, muscles sore. Tight from punching drills this morning. Tight from dozing last night with one ear listening for Tabitha in case she needed anything. I was so jumpy that someone had laid on their horn around midnight and I’d almost had a fucking heart attack.

“I should go help Rowan, but I’ll drag him back here for dinner.” I walked backward down the street. “And no secrets for lemon bars.”

“I make no promises,” Midge said. I spun forward so I wasn’t tempted to look at Tabitha or smile at her or fret over what to say. I was a former pro boxer suddenly reduced to the shy kid not fitting in at school again. It was the reason my parents had signed me up for boxing lessons in the first place. Not because they wanted me to fight in the hallways. Because they thought it might give me a place where I felt comfortable. And it had, in more ways than I could say.

Having Tabitha see me now—as a disappointment, and not during my glory days—had me itchy and anxious, like my skin didn’t fit right. Here I was, blushing and nervous around my new neighbor, who was now a grown woman, gorgeous and confident, worldly and ambitious.

Not a damn thing about me had changed.

8. Dean

Eight

Dean