“She sees her about once a year if Claire decides to visit for Christmas, and she calls, but Claire has never been good about consistency. She’ll call once a day for a week and then go another three months without a peep.” He shrugged as we followed Finley, who was already at the top of the dune. “That’s Claire.”

There wasn’t any condemnation in his tone. Had I been in that situation, I wouldn’t have been able to say the same. Was he still waiting for Claire to come back?

My cell phone rang as we crested the dune, which kept me from asking that very personal, very not-my-business question.

“Hello?” I answered, plugging my ear to hear over the sound of the drills as we neared the house.

My insurance agent started at a million miles an hour, ending with, “So we’ll need the VIN and registration to add it to your policy now that it’s out of storage.”

Right. The truck.

We reached Jackson’s backyard, and I examined the truck from a distance. I could open the door and grab everything from the glove box. Easy. It wasn’t like I was driving the damned thing.

“Sure, give me a second, and I’ll get it,” I said to my agent as Steve waved from his command center.

“I just need to grab something out of the truck,” I told Jackson, covering the mouthpiece as we closed in on Steve.

Jackson nodded as Finley took his hand, pulling him toward the book of color swatches.

My heart rate spiked as I drew closer to the truck, but I shook it off. Dr. Circe said that part of the protocol would be addressing the things I avoided because they triggered my thoughts of Will. That particular part was supposed to start in five more weeks, but I could jump ahead a little, right?

“Almost there,” I told my agent as I braced the phone on my shoulder and entered the code on the driver’s side door. It swung open easily, and I used the running board that lowered automatically to climb up into the cab. God, that scent.

The memory hit me hard.

“William Carter, how in the sweet hell do you expect me to get up there in these?” I flashed my heels under my gown.

His grin stopped my heart. “I’ve got you, Morgan. Don’t worry.” He reached into the pocket of his dress blues and pulled out his key fob, lowering the running board with the press of a button. “This might be easier, though.” In a moment that passed way too quickly, I was in his arms as he climbed up on the board and lifted me into the cab. “I wouldn’t want you getting that pretty dress all dirty.”