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I hesitate. Part of me wants to decline, to make an excuse and leave. I’ve never been one for sudden invitations, especially ones from strangers. But Ben’s warm, genuine tone makes it difficult to say no. He seems so eager, and I can’t bring myself to turn him down.

“Come on, don’t say no. It would do you good to meet my daughter. She’s kind of a hot cake around here.” He whispers the last part, his eyes shining with pride. “She can show you around and help you get accustomed to Bardstown. Plus, you’ll be getting a free home-cooked meal.”

I’m not too sold on the part where I meet his daughter because it sounds like another ridiculous matchmaking attempt, but the home-cooked meal? He scored on that one.

“Sure,” I say, finally relenting. “I’d love to join you.”

As Ben leads me up the front steps, I’m already mentally preparing myself for a strange evening. It could be exciting. I don’t know yet. The door opens, and I step inside, greeted by a bustling atmosphere. The smell of home-cooked food fills the air, and I hear laughter from the dining room.

Ben eagerly leads me toward there.

“Honey,” he calls. “I’m home.”

I’m greeted by a woman who looks like she’s in charge of everything—her hands full of plates and a wide smile on her face. She stops when she notices me and tilts her head, ignoring her husband.

“Wait,” she says, eyes narrowing slightly. “I know you. You’re Jack, right?”

I blink, taken off guard. “Uh, yeah. That’s me,” I reply. Okay… I’m more famous here than Mia let on.

“I’m Flora,” she laughs softly. “I see you’ve met my husband.” She kisses Ben on the cheek. “You’re welcome. Sit. Be comfortable.” She ushers me into one of the plush seats. “My daughter’s having dinner with us tonight, too.”

There’s a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she lifts her face toward the kitchen and calls, “Honey, your dad brought a guest. Come. Come.”

I hold my breath as footsteps approach, hoping it’s not a squealing fangirl. I’ve not encountered one of those since I left L.A., and I’m perfectly content to live out the rest of my days without it.

Someone steps out of the kitchen with a smile, and my breath catches. It’s Mia.

I rush to my feet, my shock mirroring the one in her eyes. Flora is laughing, poorly hiding it behind a huge plate.

“Mia?”

She freezes, her gaze flickering between me and her family. “Jack?” Her voice sounds a little disbelieving, a little hesitant, like she’s seeing a ghost.

I stare at her, trying to make sense of the situation. “What are you doing here?” I blurt stupidly.

“It’s almost like you’re standing in my father’s house,” she bites, narrowing her eyes. She turns accusingly to her mother. “Mom, what’s going on here?”

“I had nothing to do with this,” she says with an innocent air. “Your dad brought him home.”

“Dad! You’re above scheming acts like this.”

“Hey, I don’t know what you’re talking about, okay? This young man drove me home. My car stopped at the mall. Remind me to tow it tomorrow. I forget things a lot these days.”

I rub the back of my neck. “Ben, listen, I appreciate this, but I have to go?—”

“Nonsense!” Ben and Flora chorus, pushing me onto the chair again. “Sit down. Dinner is ready. Mia is a great cook,” Flora adds. “Did you know that?”

“No.” I force a smile. “I didn’t.”

“Mom, how’s he supposed to know that?” Mia asks, still standing idly at the kitchen doorway.

Despite her parents’ hustle and bustle, I’m super aware of her. In the safety of her parents’ home, she looks soft and beautiful. I hate myself for noticing this. I can still feel the softness of her lips; all I have to do is close my eyes.

Frankly, that’s all I’ve thought about these past few days.

Flora claps her hands with a satisfied smile as she turns to Mia. “Go on, dear. Bring in the food. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Mia hesitates for a moment but then turns, her movements stiff. “Fine,” she mutters, clearly uncomfortable. “Just another guest I don’t want.”