This is crazy.

This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy.

What in the world did I just agree to? Dinner with a single, and unreasonably attractive, male is not an activity I should entertain. Especially with Mya at home—not that she's waiting for me, or anything. She's perfectly happy hanging out with my parents.

To make matters worse, it's not just any male. It's Sammy's younger brother, for goodness sakes.

Gross.

Except, he's not gross. Justin is drop dead gorgeous in the kind of way real, everyday people aren't. He doesn't even look like he's from this world. Maybe some distant exoplanet populated by the most exquisite creatures to have graced the universe.

I need to get out of this. I need to pull up my granny panties and tell him I've changed my–

"Are you ready?"

When I turn toward Justin's voice, what I'm about to say shrivels up and dies on my tongue.

Everything about him is chiseled, like the sculptures of ancient warriors displayed in big city museums. His hair is short on the sides and longish on top, and topples from his head in a mess of sun-kissed brown curls. And don't even get me started on those lips.

An unexpected spark ignites in my chest like a candle in a dark room. Time and experience has made Justin Lark way too handsome for his own good. It really isn't fair.

I squash the flame and peel my eyes away from him. "Um, sure. Okay."

"Don't sound so enthused." When he laughs, it resonates through every fiber in my body, draining the air in my lungs. I don't like it one bit.

"Sorry. I'm just–" How long can I stare at him before I look like a creeper? "I'm having sort of a weird day."

"Weird days are goin' around." Justin grabs his bag off the floor and opens the door. "I'm parked out front."

Oh, God. He expects me to ride with him? "I can drive separately if it would be more convenient."

His lips curl into that same smirk from high school. Only this time, he isn't spying on me in the locker room. "When I asked you to dinner, escorting you there was part of the invitation. Unless you're embarrassed to be seen with me."

He can't be serious. If anything, it would be the other way around. I've let myself go over the past year and a half, and I've never felt that harder than I do right now.

I roll my eyes and try to sound more confident than I feel. "If I was embarrassed, I wouldn't have said yes."

"Great. Then, it's settled. I'll be your chauffeur for the evening."

Giving him the side-eye, I edge past him into the hall. "You're used to getting what you want, aren't you?"

"Absolutely."

As he closes the apartment door and turns the spare key in the deadbolt, I make a mental note to change the locks before I move in. "Sammy always said you got away with murder."

"I prefer to think of it as honing my boyish charms," he says with a playful wink.

Humid air curls around me when we step outside. Justin treads slightly ahead as we follow the tree-lined sidewalk, and I can't help but notice the way his broad shoulders and muscular arms move under his shirt as he walks.

He must work out. A lot. Being a firefighter, he probably has to. But darn it if his body hasn't responded more wholeheartedly than most exercise enthusiasts see in a lifetime of lifting weights. Hours spent at the gym, carving out those eight-pack abs, wearing sweat-soaked tank tops that cling to his perfect torso...

I shake my head and try to focus on anything other than his physique. "Where is this place?"

He glances over his shoulder. "It's called Waterside Tavern. It's on Lake Lanier."

Great. A tavern on the lake. That sounds suspiciously romantic. If he thinks this is going to turn into some kind of date, he's got another thing coming.

"I'm over here," he says, leading me toward his truck. Sun glints off the polished red hood and I squint.
When he opens the passenger door for me to slide in, the charcoal-gray leather is cool against my sun-drenched skin. Justin hops in on the driver's side and the engine roars to life.

As we fasten our seatbelts, I struggle for something to say and cringe before the lame question even makes it out of my mouth. "So, you've never eaten there before?"

Justin pulls out of the parking space and turns to me with a grin. "No, but I hear the food's amazing. Figured we could give it a shot."

A giant knot tightens in my stomach. I need to set him straight. Make sure he understands right out of the gate that this is dinner and nothing more. "Just so we're clear; you know this isn't a date, right?"

"A date?" His voice is laced with genuine shock. Then he laughs, and the full-bodied timbre sends a rush of tingles down my spine. "The thought never even crossed my mind," he says. "Don't worry, Ruby. I'm not going to try anything. You have my word."

And now I feel like a total idiot. "I just didn't want there to be any misunderstandings."

Justin nods, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "No misunderstandings. We're just two hungry people who need to eat." He pauses for a beat. "Unless you want it to be a date?"

He glances over with a hint of amusement, and an uncomfortable warmth prickles across my face. "Definitely not."

"Perfect. Because I'd hate to have to fight you off at the end of the night. That would be really embarrassing for you."

The tension across my shoulders releases, and I laugh despite myself.

The rest of the ride is spent in a mostly comfortable silence, punctuated by small talk, and the low rumble of the engine. I keep my eyes on the passing scenery, but my mind continues drifting back to Justin and his absurdly fascinating good looks. It's distracting. Like, I can't even think straight, distracting.

This is what happens when I get too much sun.

When we pull into the parking lot, I'm pleasantly surprised. The Waterside Tavern is a cozy little spot with a sprawling deck that juts out over a marshy edge of the lake, and a sunset in the background painting hues of orange, pink, and gold across the horizon.

"This is nice," I tell him. "How long has it been open?"

"Only a couple weeks. The owner is the wife of one of the guys at the station."

"She's done an incredible job."

He tosses me a half-smile. "I'll tell him you said so."

After Justin parks the truck, we make our way into the foyer. The inside of the restaurant is just as charming as the outside. Soft lights emitting from elegant glass fixtures resembling buoys make the atmosphere warm and inviting, and several large picture windows offer a panoramic view of the lake. Nautical decor adorn the walls and a series of rustic wooden beams straddle the sloped ceiling overhead.

I let out an appreciative breath. "It just keeps getting better."

"Right?" Justin says as he takes everything in. "I had no idea it was this impressive."

A young hostess in a black dress smiles at us from behind a podium. "Welcome to Waterside Tavern. Do you have reservations?"

Justin's eyes widen. "I'm sorry, do we need them?"

"We accept them. But I do have a few open tables." She stares down at a laminated layout of the restaurant while her finger trails over the rows of seating. "Would you like to dine inside or out?"

Justin glances over at me. "Do you have a preference?"

The girl cuts in before I'm able to respond. "If I can make a suggestion, the breeze off the lake is quite lovely this evening."

The corner of Justin's mouth inches a fraction higher. "What do you say?"

"That sounds..." Intimate? Uncomfortable? Horrifying? "...nice."

He turns back to the hostess. "We'll sit outside."

"Wonderful! You won't regret it." She grabs two menus and moves away from the podium. "Right this way."

As we cross the restaurant, clinking glasses and buttery baked bread fill my senses, while every table we pass has a flickering candle and a slender crystal vase overflowing with fresh flowers. When we step onto the deck, the earth-scented breeze tousles the hair around my face. Sliding the band off my wrist, I pull my waves into a low ponytail and let it cascade over my shoulder.

"Will this work?" the girl asks. "It's actually my favorite table."

I can see why she'd say that. Farthest from the door and closest to the water, nestled in a quiet corner all on its own.

"This is perfect," Justin says. "Thank you."

When the hostess steps away, Justin pulls out a chair and nods for me to sit before sinking into the seat across from me. "We got lucky."

"We certainly did."

The setting sun and ambient lights spaced out along the railing bathe the deck in a soothing glow. Couples of all ages occupy nearly every table, gazing at each over cocktails or sharing decadent desserts.

This place is nice. Really nice. But the current situation can't get any stranger. I squirm in my seat, feeling out of place.

Justin must pick up on my discomfort. "Maybe we should have gone with Dave & Buster's instead? I hear their chicken nuggets are to die for."

An unexpected laugh bubbles in my chest. "I hope no one has tested that theory."

"Don't get me wrong–I'm all for a tasty nugget. But I'd prefer to stick around for dessert." The corner of his eyes crinkle as he studies me. "So, what are your plans now that you're back in Lakeside?"

And here it is. The part where we talk about me and how I ran back to the safe embrace of Mommy and Daddy with my tail tucked between my legs.

I take a slow breath and debate how to answer. "I don't really have a plan. Move myself and Mya into our new home and take it one day at a time, I guess."

"There's nothing wrong with taking things slow. It's not a race."

An amused burst of air escapes through my nose. "Thank God for that. I'm still trying to figure out how to get through the day without feeling like a total basket case."

Justin nods like he understands. And I'm sure on some level he does. "Not an easy task, is it?"

"No, it's not." My voice comes out quieter than I intend.

When he finally turns away, a tense silence creeps over the table until a waiter approaches to introduce himself. "My name's Gerome; welcome to Waterside Tavern. Can I get you started with something to drink? We have a full bar, including a wide range of seasonal beers on tap, and an assortment of sodas and tea options."

Justin smiles up at him. "I'll have an ice water, please."

"Certainly." Gerome's gaze shifts to me next. "And for you?"

"Water with lemon."

He nods. "Two waters, coming right up."

As the waiter turns toward the kitchen, I can feel Justin watching me, his hypnotizing hazel eyes exploring every inch of my face. All my insecurities rise to the surface. My pale skin and sunburned nose, the dark circles beneath my eyes. The way my collarbones protrude above the neckline of his T-shirt like they're trying to separate from my body.

Meeting his gaze would be too weird. So, I concentrate on the menu instead, pretending to study the entrees. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make this awkward. It's been awhile since I've...socialized."

That's putting it mildly. Since Tommy passed away, I have successfully avoided all interactions other than what's absolutely necessary.

"Ruby, you have no reason to apologize." When I finally glance up, Justin's gaze bores into mine with a heartfelt intensity, like he's peeling back every layer of disappointment and grief to peer inside my soul. "Every new day is a chance to start again, even if yesterday felt like an uphill battle."

A breath snags in my chest.

I'm not expecting that. And I certainly hadn't expected him. This is the first time in my life that I'm seeing Justin as someone other than Sammy's bratty little brother. He seems older. Tired. Like he's lived through several lifetimes and carries the weight of each one in his eyes.

When did this happen?

After what feels like forever, I try to look away, but can't. So, I do what every red-blooded woman does when she wants to get out of something. I change the subject. "So, besides the fire department, what are you up to these days?"

Justin shifts in his seat, and the motion stirs the air with the scent of his freshly-showered skin. "I just bought my first house and that's keeping me pretty busy," he says. "Other than that, not a whole lot."

"You're not seeing anyone?" The question is out of my mouth before I can stop it. "I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that."

"No, it's okay." If Justin's shocked by my blunt inquiry, he doesn't show it. "I was, but we recently ended things."

"I'm sorry. What happened?" Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with me?

He blows out a breath and leans forward in his seat. "It just wasn't meant to be, I guess."

He doesn't elaborate. In guy language that means the subject's closed. As well as it should be. It's none of my business anyway, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to know more.

The waiter returns with our waters. "Are you ready to order?"

When Justin arches an eyebrow in my direction, I laugh. "Not even close."

"Do you mind coming back?" Justin asks.

"Of course. Take your time." The waiter smiles before turning away.

We spend the next few minutes reading over our menus before Justin breaks the silence. "Miranda wanted to get married." When I look up in surprise, he continues. "She wants to be a wife and a mother and drive around town in a minivan, and I didn't think it was fair to lead her on."

It takes me a moment to recover from his unexpected revelation. "Because you're not ready?"

"Ready?" He snorts. "I'm not even sure if that's what I want. Like ever."

"What do you want?"

He hesitates. "I want the career my father was robbed of."

His expression is fierce, like a raging river, threatening to sweep away everything in its path.

I soak it in, awed by his steadfast determination. "Why can't you have both?"

At first, Justin doesn't answer. And then he finally shakes his head. "In my experience, it doesn't work that way. We can never have it all."

I don't tell him this—I can't—but I feel that deep in my bones.