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I smile. “I remember that. Your pancakes were swimming in it.”

“I didn’t expect it to be so runny. I was so sad when the bottle ran out and my mom replaced it with the fake stuff. I always secretly hoped you’d bring more over some time.”

Real maple syrup costs four times as much as the fake stuff, and that was an indulgence her parents couldn’t afford. “I have a friend who has a maple farm. We could go there this afternoon if you want?” I suggest.

“It’s not harvest season, though,” Bea points out.

“They have riding trails and a bakery. We could go for a hike and buy maple candies.”

“Do you have time for that?”

“Yeah. Totally. It’ll be fun.” I want to spend time with her, hold her hand and make her smile.

We finish breakfast and drive out to my friend’s farm. On the way, my brother Nate calls.

“Hey, bro, what’s up?”

“Just checking in. You back from your away series?” he asks.

“Yeah, flew in this morning. I’m in the car. Bea’s with me, and you’re on speakerphone,” I warn.

“Bea? As in Beatrix, your best friend’s sister? The one you didn’t want me flirting with at Thanksgiving?” I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh, this is news. Do tell, Nate.” Bea’s eyes light up.

“He said you were already involved with someone. He just failed to mention it was him.”

“Yeah, well, now you know. Besides, you have a girlfriend,” I remind him. “So you shouldn’t be flirting with other girls. Especially not mine.”

“Oh, I’m your girl now?” Bea smiles mischievously.

I stretch my arm across the back of the seat and sift through her hair. “You all right with that?”

She turns her head and kisses my wrist.

“How you doing, Rix?” Nate asks.

“I’m good. How about you?”

“Yeah. Doing all right. This semester is kicking my ass a bit,” he says.

“You okay? You need help with anything?” I can’t help him with his courses since he’s in engineering, but I can make things easier by sending him premade meals or grocery deliveries.

“Nah. I’ve got it under control. Lisa’s buried in work, though. I haven’t seen much of her the past few weeks.”

“She still planning to come this way during the holidays?” I ask.

“Hopefully, yeah. I know Dad’s really looking forward to seeing her. Anyway, I’ll let you go. Call me later, okay? We can catch up.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

I end the call.

“How long have he and Lisa been dating?” Bea asks.

“Over a year. She visited last year at the holidays.”

“Your dad said as much at Thanksgiving. He really likes her.”

“He does. And she seems good for Nate.” She was shy around me, but she seemed sweet. And into my brother.

We arrive at the farm, and I introduce Bea to my friend Carter, whose family has owned the farm for more than fifty years. Bea has never been horseback riding before, so we take her out on the trails, and afterwards Carter takes us to the maple syrup house. It’s cold today, below freezing, so they set up the maple toffee trough.

Bea jumps up and down and hugs my arm. “Oh my gosh, I haven’t had this since I was a kid.”

I kiss her temple. “We couldn’t come here and not have the full experience.”

She tips her head up, her smile wide and infectious and so fucking beautiful it makes my chest tight. “Thank you for this. The last time I did this, your dad took us.”

I remember, vaguely, Bea as a preteen tagging along with me, Flip, and my brothers on a few family outings. She and Nate were close to the same age, so they were likely tasked with managing Brody. I probably hadn’t paid much attention to her, but her excitement triggers a memory of her standing in the store at the end of our trip, counting out change to see if she could afford the smallest bottle of maple syrup.

She eats four maple syrup toffee sticks before we visit the store.

I put everything she gets excited about into a cart. I love seeing her like this. And she’s never self-indulgent, so I want to do it for her. I spend close to five hundred dollars on maple-infused condiments, frozen foods, and three pies.

When we get back to her place, I head for the trunk.

“What are you doing?” She frowns as I hand her a couple of bags.

“This stuff is for you—except for one apple custard pie. I plan to eat the entire thing later tonight and have serious regrets when it makes me feel like puking.”

“That sounds like my relationship with refried beans.” She grabs the front of my shirt and suctions her face to mine. It goes on long enough that my body starts to react in inconvenient ways. She breaks the kiss before it becomes an embarrassing problem.

I smile down at her. “What was that for?”

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