She’d meant to make a quick stop to eat before she got to LJ’s house so he wouldn’t feel obligated to feed her. Except she’d had to drive nearly a mile away from the restaurant before she found a spot along the street big enough to wedge her truck into.

Most of the streets in New Orleans were smaller than the narrowest alley in Montana and lined on both sides by cars parked so close together they must have been swung into place by a crane. But as soon as she’d gotten out to hike to the restaurant, the scent hit her.

Lemon cake. Bright and citrusy, wafting on a wave of Madagascar vanilla that smelled like LJ’s kitchen. She smiled.

The post-lunch walk back from the restaurant was lovely, the brutal heat made lighter by the weave of arching branches shading the whole street. As she passed the trunk of a tree, the sidewalk climbed and cracked over the top of huge roots. When it dipped back down the other side, it turned from cement to ancient bricks that disappeared under a blanket of moss, only to have their crumbling red edges froth back to the surface again. How many layers of sidewalks were there under this one, gripped in the claws of the tree roots or blotted out by modern gray concrete?

This whole city felt like it had been around for ages, generations of kids and grandparents tripping over these same sidewalks. Maybe if she stayed in this place long enough, where the past and present mixed together in such a glorious mess, she’d start to get some perspective on her own life.

She finally edged herself out of the parking spot and whooped in triumph, smacking her hand into the steering wheel. “Take that, New Orleans! Country mouse can drive!” A horn blared behind her, and she jumped and hit the gas. Her front tire dropped, her teeth snapping together with the impact. She stomped on the brakes, and the horn behind her screamed again. “Shit.” Gingerly, she drove out of the pothole, listening for the flap-flap-flap of a flattened tire. It held steady, though, and she made the next turn.

It was probably good she had to focus on negotiating traffic, because it would give her less time to think. In the two and a half days it took her to cross the country, she’d had way too much of that. And way too much time to guess at what LJ was thinking. He’d finally called yesterday, but she had been pumping gas. When she’d hopped back in and seen his name on the screen, she hadn’t dared to hit the “Call Back” button. They hadn’t been together that long, had never even been on an actual date, and a thousand unanswerable questions about their future were already rattling around in her head.