“Driving’s not so bad once you get the hang of it.” David’s warm brown eyes matched his hair. “If you want, I could give you some pointers.”
Her mouth went dry. Potentially screwing up behind the wheel in front of Kylee, her best friend in the world? Maybe. But in front of David? Not a chance.
“Parents always try to teach you,” he continued, “but it never works because they freak out.”
She looked away. Parents freaking out was something she could relate to. “Thanks, but I’ve already got someone helping me.”
“Besides your parents?” Kylee asked.
Rae gulped and nodded. Why had she said that?
“Oh.” David shrugged. “Cool.”
She shoved another apple slice in her mouth so she couldn’t say anything more.
Kylee gave her a skeptical look. “Who?”
Oh, great. Kylee was practically a lie-detector machine.
Rae swallowed. “A neighbor.”
Kylee narrowed her eyes but kept her mouth shut.
David hopped up from the table and gave them a mock salute and a smile. “Well, I better run. See you later.”
Rae gave a halfhearted wave and began packing up what remained of her lunch. She didn’t look, but she could feel Kylee’s questioning eyes staring at her. The truth was she had no one to help her, and she didn’t want to drive with her dad again until she was confident she could perform up to his high standards. The last thing she needed was another “you only have one future” lecture. And she wouldn’t drive with Mom until she could be sure she wouldn’t scare her to death. Mom had enough to worry about already.
Rae would just have to rely on the Driver’s Ed. instructor.
Kylee snapped her lunch box shut and leaned her elbows on the table. “A neighbor, huh?”
“Yep.”
Kylee waited, but Rae wasn’t about to explain. Kylee didn’t need to know everything.
Her friend stood up. “If David asked you to the prom, would you say yes?”
Rae flinched. “He can’t.”
Underclassmen could only attend prom if asked by an upperclassman. That was the rule. Rae, Kylee, and David were all sophomores. Seth, of course, was a senior. And he could ask any girl he wanted.
“But if he could?” Kylee persisted as Rae followed her out of the lunchroom.
Rae shrugged. “But he can’t.”
They stopped at Kylee’s locker, where she unloaded her lunch box. “There’s always next year.”
Next year? By then Rae would have her license, if she passed, and she’d be two months away from becoming a senior. Prom and David Reynolds would be the last thing on her mind. They were not part of The Plan.
But he would look pretty cute in a tux.
CHAPTER
SIX
Gerrit drummed his fingers on the kitchen table. Daisy lay on the floor on the other side of the kitchen, refusing to come near him. Shouldn’t Hannie be home by now? He checked the time. Four o’clock. When did her shop close?
“I wonder what she’s planning for dinner.”
Daisy’s ears perked up.
“Don’t get too excited. It’ll be hours yet.”
He rose and scanned the kitchen, searching for clues. The Crock-Pot wasn’t out, no meat thawed in the sink. He went and looked in the fridge.
“It’s practically empty.” He held it open with one hand and pointed at Daisy with the other. “Are you seeing this?”
She saw it.
He squared his shoulders and shut the door with resolve. He would go to the grocery store and visit Hannie at the shop. And then he would—did he dare?—make dinner for her. She would love that. Women loved that, right?
Last night, as he struggled to fall asleep in his chair, he stumbled upon a cooking show on Netflix and watched an episode. Okay, he watched three episodes. Or four. It didn’t look that hard. If he could bottle-feed a calf, surely he could make fettuccine Alfredo for dinner. That was what Chef Kellan had made in episode three.
What? He couldn’t sleep.
Under Daisy’s watchful eye, he made a grocery list. He would use salmon for his Alfredo, because what was the point in living in the Pacific Northwest if you’re not going to eat salmon? Puget Sound was only a couple of miles away. Then he would need noodles, cream, Parmesan cheese . . .
The list complete, he looked at Daisy. “I’ll be right back.”
She sniffed.
“What?”
She sniffed again.
He pulled the front of his shirt up to his nose. “Oh. I see.”
GERRIT SAT IN his truck outside The Daisy Chain, feeling like a teenager too chicken to ring his crush’s doorbell. He was a grown man, for crying out loud. He’d been married to Hannie for thirty-five years. But the thought of going in that shop made manure-scented sweat seep from his pores. This was a mistake.
He would leave, but he’d seen her catch a glimpse of him through the window. She must have. She wouldn’t have had that disturbed look on her face for anyone else.
He wiped his hands on his jeans and stepped out of the truck. Though he’d showered and changed, as Daisy had so subtly suggested, he still felt dirty. How long would it take to rid himself of the farm odor? Probably not as long as it would take to rid himself of sixty-three-years’ worth of farm life. He didn’t know how to be anything but a farmer.
A bell above the door jangled as he entered the shop. Sweet floral aromas swirled around him, stopping him in his tracks. It smelled like a garden. It smelled like Hannie.
“Welcome to The Daisy Chain.” A perky young woman stepped in front of him. “Can I help you with anything?”
He took a step back, suddenly feeling like an intruder. “No.”
“I’ll take care of it, Jillian.” Hannie appeared beside the young woman, wearing a look he couldn’t interpret. “This is, uh, my husband.”
“Oh!” Jillian smiled and stuck out
