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He’d always tried not to be like his father. When in doubt he thought about what Bart would do and did the opposite. Now he realized that the decent thing was to walk away. Only he didn’t want to.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “It’ll be fun to catch up.”

He passed her the bottle of wine he’d brought. A nice California Cabernet the store owner had promised would go with pasta. Their fingers brushed and he felt a jolt of attraction. Swearing silently, he took a deliberate step back. No way. Not with Patience. He refused to screw up one of the few decent memories he had in his life. She was his friend, nothing more.

“There you are. All grown up.”

He shifted toward the voice and saw Ava walk into the room.

She looked the same, he thought, accepting the relief as both truth and a statement that he really had to work on his character. But it was a flaw he was willing to accept. He needed Ava to be okay, not just for herself, but for him, as well. To keep his connection to the past.

She was a couple of inches shorter than Patience, with the same brown hair. Hers was in tight curls that brushed her shoulders. She had big brown eyes and an easy smile. When she held out her arms, he moved into them instinctively.