What she hadn’t expected was to see Steve there—with a young boy she didn’t recognize.

Her pulse skittered.

Charley had to know her husband was in the park. Steve and the boy were eating tacos. The resident taco maker would have seen them circle the truck toward the gazebo.

Conclusion? He’d set her up. This—along with the wisdom he’d dispensed about the rewards of risking vulnerability—was his attempt to nudge them together.

Hard to fault his benevolent intentions.

But was she ready to initiate the dialogue she’d been mulling over less than half an hour ago?

The decision was taken out of her hands when Steve angled toward her, as if he’d sensed her presence.

Shock flattened his features, and he froze. But a moment later he vaulted to his feet.

The boy beside him looked up, followed Steve’s line of sight to her, and spoke.

After a brief, inaudible response, Steve left the gazebo and walked toward her. Slowly, as if he was afraid of scaring her off.

Smart man. If she wasn’t tethered to these crutches, she’d be halfway back to her car already.

But thanks to her condition, there was no fast—or graceful—way to exit.

So she waited for him, legs trembling, heart pounding, lungs balking.

He stopped a few feet away. “What are you doing here? Are you alone?”

“Yes.” Her response came out shaky, and she took a breath. “My doctor and therapist are happy with my progress, and they’ve given me the green light to go back to the shop half days starting Monday. I was in the mood for tacos today and decided to venture out. Who’s your friend?” She nodded toward the boy.

“A foster kid I met at a school presentation earlier this month. I, uh, kind of took an interest in him. His name’s Noah.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Would you like to join us while you eat?”

Eat lunch with Steve?

No. She couldn’t do that.

Or could she? A threesome would break the ice, help ease them into the new territory they were about to explore without the pressures of a one-on-one encounter.

Perhaps this opportunity was a literal godsend.

She tightened her grip on the crutches. Moistened her lips. “If I’m not intruding.”

The tension in Steve’s features diminished. “Not at all. Let me take that bag for you.”

He tugged it from her fingers and stayed within touching distance while she navigated the path to the gazebo.

As she approached the table, the boy ducked his head and gave her a shy smile.

Her step faltered.

Oh, mercy!