“Whatever. Interesting. And he knows about the baby, so obviously that’s not a concern.” Reggie grinned. “I can’t believe you gave up on love only to find Mr. Right.”

“No.” Dena shook her head. “He’s not that. He’s a crush. That’s all he can be. He’s a famous rock star, and he’s only in town temporarily. I’m a small-town teacher who is pregnant. We have nothing in common.”

“Except the kissing.”

“Which didn’t mean anything.”

“It meant something to you.”

Dena knew her sister was right. It had meant something. The problem was, it shouldn’t, because if she let herself dream too much, she was in serious danger of getting her heart broken.

“Time to change the subject,” she said firmly. “Distract me, please.”

“Toby asked me out.”

“What?” Dena’s voice was a shriek. She consciously spoke more softly. “When? Are you going? Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“Oh, big sister of mine, a kiss trumps a dinner date every time. And he asked yesterday, and I said yes.”

“To quote you, he asked you out? Talk!”

Reggie laughed and told her about the “I’m not getting married” conversation, followed by the very sweet apology.

“Did he say why he’s not getting married?” Dena asked.

Reggie hesitated. “He did, but I’m not comfortable sharing that part. I’m sorry.”

Dena wanted to know, but she wasn’t going to ask. She knew her sister would tell her when she could, and she trusted Reggie completely. When they’d been kids, they’d shared everything, but as they’d gotten older, they’d realized there were pieces of their lives they would always keep private.

“But you believe him?” she asked instead.

“Yeah, I do.”

“So you’re going out?”

“Tomorrow. I’m nervous.” Reggie spread hummus on a slice of baguette. “It’s silly, really, but there’s something about him.”

“You have a past and it was a good one. Until the end. Even if he didn’t mean for word to get out about you sleeping with him, you were still hurt, and I blame him.”

Reggie grinned. “You’re a very good sister.”

“Yes, I am.”

They were both laughing when Reggie suddenly drew in a breath.

“So, Micah. Tall, gorgeous, with dark hair and blue eyes?”

Dena’s throat went dry. “That’s him.”

“He’s about to walk into the kitchen. Lucky me. I get to meet him.”

Dena barely had time to process that nugget when the back door opened. She turned to see Micah shrugging out of his thick jacket and hanging it on the coatrack by the door. Then their eyes met and the rest of the world fell away.

He looked good—which wasn’t news. What was different was the way his gaze locked with hers. Like they had a connection. He smiled, and her insides melted.