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“Did either of them remarry?”

He shook his head and chuckled. “Dad’s married to his work, remember? And as us boys grew up, he trained us into it, too.”

She felt her own eyebrows rise. “So, you’re a workaholic?”

“Not as much as my dad wishes. After my brother died—” he glanced at Jamie, who was trying to get a slice of cucumber on his spoon “—I spent a few months in Gilead, Kansas, with my mother and Jamie. I can work from anywhere, for the most part, and it seemed like Mom was pretty overwhelmed between grief and dealing with a toddler.”

“Understandable. I’m sorry for your family’s loss. For Jamie’s loss.”

Tate rubbed his forehead. “It’s been rough. You just never think you’ll get news like that, you know? Do you have siblings?”

“No, it’s just me. I’ve had to carry my parents’ expectations all by myself.”

His grimace turned into a smile. “Not so fun?”

“My father has been an elder at Creekside Fellowship for years. He’s a banker. Like you, I guess I work for the family business. Mom is the perfect hostess and community-minded woman. Her job is to keep Dad looking good.”

Tate’s eyebrows tilted up. “And their expectations for you?”

“To be their blue ribbon at the fair, a badge of their success. Never to rock the boat. To marry well and do them proud.”

His gaze fell to her hands.

Stephanie held out her left hand, which was devoid of any rings. “The man my father picked out for me is marrying my best friend in August.”

“Ouch.”

Stephanie sighed. “We dated for a few months. I thought he would come to love me, but you can see how well that turned out.”

“Did you love him?”

Hmm. No one had really asked her that. “I think I mostly loved the idea of him.”

“Plus, you wanted to please your parents.”

“I guess. But since Eli and Harper got engaged, my parents just shake their heads around me.”

“Do you live with them?”

Stephanie laughed, a bitter sound even to her own ears. “No, I live a few blocks away and go for dinner like three times a week. I live with Harper.”

Questions filled his eyes. “The bride-to-be.”

“That’s the one.”

“Oh, boy.”

Jamie beat on the table with his spoon. “Dada! Dada!”

“Hey, shorty. You all done?”

Stephanie loved the way he talked to the boy. No mushy baby talk. She couldn’t imagine taking on someone else’s child suddenly like that. Not if she were a workaholic guy, anyway.

Jamie brushed his hands together. “Duh.”

She couldn’t believe her eyes or ears. “Did he say done? And show it?”

“Yeah, Ashley — his mom — was teaching him some baby sign language, and my mom kept it up with him over the winter. He knows a few gestures, but not many words. From what I can figure out, he’s a bit behind where he should be at eighteen months, but not by a lot.”