Except Janey was married to Joe Cantrell and expecting his baby, not David’s. Lately, David had realized he was tired of thinking about Janey and all the ways he’d screwed things up with her. He was tired of dwelling on what should’ve been and ready to focus on the future.

And more and more, he found himself thinking of Daisy. He wasn’t sure he was ready for another full-blown relationship, but maybe it was time to start dating again. Nowhere was it written that a date had to lead to forever. So if he asked Daisy to dinner—a real dinner at a restaurant—it didn’t mean he was making promises to her that he might not be able to keep, did it?

She’d been so nice to him at a time when her own life was in disarray. If he took her to dinner to say thank you, he wouldn’t be starting something he couldn’t finish, would he? After spending his entire adult life with the same woman, he’d never done the casual-dating thing before, so the rules were somewhat of a mystery to him.

One thing was patently clear, however—he was definitely overthinking this. It was a meal, not a marriage, for crying out loud. Disgusted with himself, he got into his car and headed for Daisy’s place in town.

By the time he parked in front of her house, he’d nearly talked himself out of the whole thing. But he soldiered on, took the rickety steps to her porch two at a time and rapped on the door, half hoping she wasn’t there. Then he wouldn’t have to follow through and could have a stress-free, relaxing night at home.

He was about to give up when the door swung open, and there she was. Her hair was in a ponytail and her clothes were covered in various colors of paint.

She seemed pleased but surprised to see him. “David. I wasn’t expecting you, as you can tell,” she said with a delicate, sweet laugh. “I’m doing some painting.”

“So I can see. I’m sorry to bother you. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d see if you were interested in dinner, but you’re busy.”

“Not that busy.”

She had a way of making him feel better about himself. He didn’t know what she did or how she did it, but he always felt better when he was with her.

“Do you want some help with the painting?”

“You don’t feel like doing that after how many days at the clinic?”

“Four or five. I lost count.”