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“I don’t blame you there.” He joined in with her laughter. Then he sobered, returning to the comment she made about social workers. “But what you do—therapy—doesn’t that burn you out?” He could very well be the cause of something like that. Normal people could only take so much negativity before they just couldn’t anymore.

Grace cocked her head thoughtfully. “I suppose that is a possibility. But honestly? I don’t think so. Working with adults—people like you—gives me purpose. It makes me feel like I’m making a difference in the world. You will eventually heal from the pain of your past and get to live a fulfilling life. Some of those children will continue to struggle, and there’s not much we can do until they leave home.”

Riley’s features faltered. He had been one of those kids. With his mother gone and his deadbeat dad barely making ends meet, he had to do a lot to survive. At the time it had felt natural—something he was supposed to do. But now he knew better. The difference in his situation was that he didn’t view his childhood as something negative. He’d grown and learned a lot as a kid.

Her brows knit together and her hold on him tightened slightly, drawing his attention back to the conversation.

“Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

“What? Of course not.”

“But you look like you’re upset about something.”

He shrugged it off. “I’ve seen a lot of bad in this world. It’s not something I would wish on anyone.”

And just like that, they came right back to the darker subjects. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just be normal? Had serving in the army ruined him so much?

No.

That wasn’t it. He’d always been more serious, even as a child. He’d had to be.

Now, he was grown and he didn’t have to worry about those kinds of things. He should at least attempt to be optimistic—especially if he wanted her to enjoy his company more.

“Tell me more.”

“More what?”

He offered her a crooked smile. “Tell me more about growing up on a farm. Did you milk cows?”

Grace nodded. “I did.”

“What about taking care of chickens?”

“Oh, they’re terrible.”

He laughed. “What else?”

She bit down on her lower lip, pulling his focus. Her lips looked so soft—so plump and inviting.

Stop it. Be better.

“I guess since I don’t have much to compare it to, I don’t know how to describe it in a way that would be interesting.”

He opened his mouth with the intention of insisting that anything she might want to say would hold his attention, but the song ended and the couples broke apart. Another slow song started up, but before he could ask her for another dance, the cowboy from before tapped her on the shoulder.

Riley stiffened as Grace turned and lifted her eyes to their intruder. “Wade.”

“Would you like to dance?”

She glanced at Riley with a smile. “Thanks for the dance. Maybe you could find someone else to partner with?”

He didn’t have a chance to answer before Wade pulled her into one of those fancy dances. Riley’s hands curled into fists. This was one of his many issues. He felt things so fully and with such ferocity that he could go from happiness to fury in a matter of seconds.

Taking a deep breath, he released it. Grace wasn’t his date. Not really. He couldn’t expect her to turn down an invitation to dance. But there was no way he was going to find a girl to dance with when the only one worth holding in his arms was in the arms of another man.

He strode toward the bar and asked for a beer.

A small voice in his head cautioned him.