Jillian pats my shoulder. “Don’t encourage him, dear.”

I press my lips together.

Finished with his breakfast, Graham pushes his empty plate away and leans his elbows on the table. “If you morons are done arguing, we have things to discuss. There’s lots on the agenda today.”

“Yes, boss,” Matt says with a groan.

I nibble on my scone and listen to the day’s plans.

“The Polaris needs spark plugs, and the shed needs re-roofing before the snow flies. Plus, I need help with the beer-brewing process today.”

“The beer’s not ready,” Matt says. “So, what do you need help with?”

“Someone’s got to babysit the fermentation process, and I can’t be in two places at once,” Graham says gruffly.

Logan looks up from his plate. “I’ll help out. Wherever you need me.”

I venture a look in his direction. I know I don’t belong here, but I won’t do well with being ignored all day either. “Can I speak to you after breakfast?”

He meets my eyes for the first time today, and a shock of awareness buzzes through me. “Sure. Once I help Austen in the garage.”

“Okay,” I say with a nod.

After a few minutes sorting out who will be working where today, the guys rise from the table, clearing plates and pausing to lean over to give their mom a quick peek on the cheek, thanking her for breakfast. Even Graham.

“Thanks for feeding us, Mom,” he says, stacking his plate with the others by the sink.

“You need more coffee?” she asks.

“I’d better not.”

Once they’ve left out the back door, the house goes quiet. Grandpa Al retires to the living room and settles into his recliner with a newspaper.

I busy myself by rinsing dishes and loading them into the dishwasher while Jillian cleans her cast iron skillet. Now that we’re alone, I recognize that this is my opportunity.

“Jillian?”

“Hmm?” She wipes the skillet dry and places it in a cabinet.

“I know we just met and all, but I just wanted to say how sorry I was to hear about the passing of your husband last summer.”

She gives me a warm look. “Thank you, honey. Thirty-two years, we were married. I loved him with my whole heart,” she says with a faraway look in her eyes that pinches my heart.

“That must have been hard on all of you.”

“It was. Hardest damn time in my life. Some of the boys took it harder than others.”

“Like Logan?” I ask, rinsing a mixing bowl.

Jillian’s about to respond when footsteps draw our attention.

Logan is standing in the kitchen doorway, wearing a look of fury.

He overheard everything.

Shit.

And he does not look happy.

5

LOGAN

Forget. This.

Furious, I storm out the back door with Summer hot on my trail.

“Logan, wait!” she calls out after me.