“So here we are,” she said wearily after a moment. “You think I pity you, and I think you’re only helping because you feel guilty.”

Cutter barked sharply. She hadn’t realized the dog had gotten up, he’d done it so quietly. But he was standing in front of them, looking from her to Adam and back. And that bark had sounded suspiciously like “Stop it!”

And now the animal was practically glaring at them.

“I feel suddenly like I did in fourth grade when Mrs. Gage snapped at me for whispering in the middle of geography,” she said ruefully.

She heard Adam make a sound, and from the corner of her eye saw him fighting a smile.

“Hayley told me he practically runs things at Foxworth, but lets them think they’re in charge,” she said.

“Quinn said he’s very patient with them, even when it takes them some time to catch on.”

They both said it very seriously, but then they were smiling and the tension had eased. Amanda only wished she could figure out how to keep it that way.

But right now the cold was starting to get to her, and she stood up. “You should come back inside. It’s too cold to be sitting out here when you don’t have to.” He gave her a sideways look. She felt herself flush. “I promise not to...jump you again.”

“Then I might as well stay here.”

The instant he said it he looked as if he regretted it. But Amanda barely noticed that, she was too busy trying to quash the leap of excitement that had jammed through her at his words. It truly had been as amazing for him as it had been for her. Which changed everything.

And Amanda suddenly wasn’t sure she wanted the tension to ease at all. At least, not this kind of tension.

“I’m sorry,” he said tightly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I’m sorry you’re sorry,” Amanda said, letting her voice echo what she was feeling inside.

His gaze shot to her face. “Amanda—”

“But I’m sorriest about the fact that you’ll turn your back on the good that’s between us because my grief overwhelmed my judgment.”

“He deserves that huge grief.” Adam’s voice was almost hoarse, and he looked away, as if he could not bear to look at her as he said it. “He was the kind of man who holds the world together, one of those pillars they talk about. The kind who leaves a hole behind that can never be filled.”

“And you know if—”