Why muddy things up when he’d be back in France in just a week or so? Kelly had made it perfectly clear that her heart was still in Bailey’s Fork. How could he leave an executive chef position behind? For love? That sounded crazy. But his emotions were in turmoil. Anxiety and excitement fought for position. What would things be like back here in Bailey’s Fork? Could he open his own restaurant? He’d done it for Francois Dumont several times now. Suddenly nothing in his life seemed clear.

“I’m going to sleep on that.” He walked back to his old bedroom and climbed into the queen-size bed. Between the trip back, time zone changes, and being up all night baking with Kelly, every bone in his body ached for sleep, but all he could think about was her.

He’d left a wake of heartache behind when he’d left Bailey’s Fork. He wasn’t proud of that.

He set the alarm on his phone to be sure he wouldn’t miss lunch with his father. At least that was one thing he could definitely reconcile while he was home.

He closed his eyes. Kelly had succeeded. She’d done exactly what she’d dreamed of and more and hadn’t changed a bit in the process. The way she looked. Smelled. Moved in that kitchen. The banter. They’d always loved picking on each other. And she could still dish it out. He punched his pillow and nestled down into the feathery softness.

When his alarm rang, he was more tired than when he’d laid down. He forced himself out of bed and pulled the faded green York Equipment Company T-shirt out of his bag. The thing had seen better days, but he’d packed it for this reason. Kind of an olive branch to Dad. He might not be working at his side, but he was proud of the family business and he wanted him to know that.

He went to the kitchen and drank two glasses of water, still feeling dehydrated from the travel and lack of sleep, then headed over to Dad’s shop. Fidgeting with the satellite radio in search of something he could sing to, he finally brought up an old Brooks and Dunn song from his phone to the radio. Singing was supposed to ease anxiety, but he couldn’t even keep his mind on the words to his favorite song on the short drive.

The dusty parking lot was filled with equipment and customers’ pickup trucks.

Walking toward the door, Andrew squared his shoulders, trying to appear relaxed and non-confrontational.

Dad looked up, and when he noticed the T-shirt Andrew was wearing Dad smiled with approval.

“Don’t know how you kept up with that shirt all these years.”

He glanced down at the faded, once navy-blue shirt. It had definitely seen better days. “It’s family.”

“Yes it is,” Dad said with a smile.