He’d left Taylor at her apartment yesterday afternoon after they’d both agreed they were too mentally exhausted to undertake the upper-body workout she’d had planned. But once he’d arrived home, his pent-up adrenaline wouldn’t allow him to rest. He’d changed into sweats and took off for a four-mile run, intending to clear his head. But four miles had turned into ten as he’d mulled over the ramifications of yesterday’s chance meeting with Alec Mooney. How could something seemingly harmless cause his plans to implode in such spectacular fashion?

He thought of the chaos theory he’d learned about in high school, and how the fluttering of a butterfly’s delicate wings in one part of the world could result in cataclysmic consequences in another. That’s what this felt like. If he’d hung around just a few moments longer to chat with Coach Green, or if he’d taken Taylor over to check out some of the equipment, there was a possibility they would have never encountered Mooney. A minor tweak in the course of yesterday’s events and everything would still be on track.

He heard a car door slam and jumped up from the weight bench. His new girlfriend was here for today’s workout.

He dropped his head back and chuckled at the ceiling.

If anyone questioned whether God had a sense of humor, Jamar need only point to the fact that he now had to pretend that he and Taylor Powell were dating. The irony of trying to pull off a fake relationship with a woman he would’ve dated in a heartbeat if circumstances were different wasn’t lost on him.

The more he thought about it, the more Jamar was convinced this was his best friend having a good laugh at his expense. Silas had been the king of practical jokes.

He arrived at the front door just as Taylor ascended the top step.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, breezing past him on her way into the house. “There was a huge piece of farm equipment being carried by a flatbed truck on the interstate. It took up two lanes and had traffic backed up to the Forty-Five on-ramp.” She held up two red reusable shopping bags. “I was too keyed up after everything that happened yesterday, so I spent half the night cooking your meals.”

“Oh, cool. What did you make?”

“This is grilled chicken with brown rice and sautéed root veggies,” she said, holding up a container. “I also have flank steak with a mushroom and spinach tart. It is divine.” She cradled the other bag. “And in here are black bean quesadillas and chickpea burgers.”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “I’ll eat the chicken and steak, but not that other stuff.”