I freeze. I had assumed that when Tim looked me up in the school records, he figured out that Josh was in fifth grade. Apparently not. He still thinks my son is five years old. Which means he doesn’t know that Josh is Shane’s son.

And I really, really don’t want to tell him. Not yet. Not when he’s looking over at me during the red lights and smiling at me that way.

The Shamrock is only a five-minute drive away. Tim parks in the lot outside the bar, and he rushes around the side of the car to open the door for me, even though I have already got it open myself. This isn’t a date, but he’s being a gentleman, which is insanely sweet. Men aren’t like that in New York City. You have to go upstate for good manners, apparently.

Inside the bar is about what I expected. Dark, a slight hint of smokiness hanging in the air, and a lot of sticky tables spread out through the room. We grab a table in the back, and this time it comes as no surprise when Tim pulls out my chair for me.

“When did you get to be such a gentleman?” I tease him.

“I wasn’t before?”

“Ha!” I snort. “I was lucky if you didn’t pull my chair out from under me.”

“Brooke!” He clutches his chest in mock horror. “I would never have done that. Unless you deserved it, of course.”

“I’m just saying…” I look across the table at his twinkling blue eyes. “You don’t have to act all formal with me. We’ve known each other since we were in diapers. We know each other pretty well.”

He arches an eyebrow. “We used to. Now—not so much.”

Before I can figure out what to say to that, a petite waitress in a tight T-shirt that shows off an impressive bust for her size comes over to take our order. She looks vaguely familiar, like many of the people in this town do—I think we may have gone to high school together. I let my hair fall in my face as I place my order, hoping I look different enough that she won’t recognize me.

Before she leaves, she rests a hand with red fingernails on Tim’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back, Timmy.”

“Thanks, Kelli,” he says.

Kelli. It comes back to me in a flash—she was on the cheerleading squad like me and Chelsea, but two years behind us. She looks almost the same as she did back in high school—same blond hair and heart-shaped face, although much larger boobs. Thankfully, she isn’t looking at me and doesn’t seem to recognize me.