“I told you I was sorry about that. I made a mistake when I was seventeen, Zayne. Let it go.” Her frustration with herself made her sound annoyed.

“Let it go?” His voice sharpened. “You were always going to be my friend, remember?”

They were glaring at each other when Hudson walked over and took Zayne’s fingers in his hand. “Duke fell asleep, Mr. Zayne. Are you talking about when you and Momma were friends? She told me you used to climb a big tree with her. Do you still climb trees? Can you teach me how?”

It only took a beat for Zayne’s eyes to soften. He looked down at her son, now leaning against Zayne’s leg—his bad leg, if she remembered correctly—staring up at him with nothing but happiness. Her beautiful boy. Seeing Zayne’s expression—his gentleness—with Hudson made her chest go warm.

“Your momma told you that, huh?” Zayne looked a little confused. “I wonder... I mean, yes.” He glanced her way quickly. “Your momma and I had a favorite tree we used to meet at. It was a willow tree with a big old limb down low—it didn’t take much climbing. But once we were up there, no one could see us. We were safe.”

Safe. Her breath caught at the word. It must have been a rare feeling for him when they’d first started hanging out in the sixth grade. The old willow was about halfway between her mother’s sprawling contemporary home and Zayne’s single-wide.

“What did you do in the tree?” Hudson made a face. “Did you kiss my momma in the tree?”

Zayne looked straight at Andrea. “Only once.”

It was the summer before senior year. Zayne’s dad had just been given what was basically a life sentence. Andrea swallowed hard. And she’d promised him she’d always be his friend. The kiss had been sweet and gentle—sealing a promise she broke two months later.

“I really am sorry, Zayne.”

“Sorry for what?” Hudson asked. “Momma, what did you do?”

“I—”

“Nothing, Hudson.” Zayne talked over her. “Your momma was a good friend.” Until she wasn’t. She blinked as he continued. “We both did silly things.”

“Can I go find Duke, Mr. Zayne?”

Andrea let out a soft sigh of relief as he took off, no longer interested in them.

“The only thing that saves me from his constant questions is his short attention span.” She watched him disappear around the corner of the shop, knowing he wouldn’t go any farther than the barn doors, where Duke liked to nap. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For not ratting me out to my four-year-old, who doesn’t know what a flaming beyotcha I was.”

Zayne gave her a half smile, rubbing his left thigh with a grimace. “Truth is, I wasn’t exactly a prince back then, either. You were smart to back off.”