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Ava does most of her business with baked goods. She opened the deli on a whim, and it turned out to be wildly successful.

To look at her, though, you’d never know Ava came from Steel money. She’s not even slightly pretentious.

She bustles back in, her black apron streaked with flour and her pink hair tied up in a net. She plunks down at our table. “Tell me the good news, cousins.”

“Nothing new,” Dee says. “I’m just trying to talk my big brother here out of being a dickhead.”

Ava erupts in laughter and turns to me. “What are you up to now?”

“Nothing,” I say innocently.

Ava laughs again. “We all know that’s not true.”

“He did something to my friend Ashley.”

Gave her a damned good tongue lashing, but no way am I saying that.

“Ashley?”

“The new intern.”

“Oh, right. Dad told me about her. What’d you do to her, Dale?”

“Nothing. Why do you automatically assume I did something to her?”

“I’m not—”

Maya interrupts. “Ava, Luke needs you in the back.”

Ava stands. “Duty calls. I’ll catch you guys later.”

Thank God. I love my cousin, but I don’t need to rehash the whole Ashley thing. It’s bad enough dealing with Diana.

“So you’ll do it,” Diana says.

“Do what?”

“Ask Ashley to stay, of course.”

Before I can reply, Maya’s back again, this time with our sandwiches and two bottles of water. The only beverage Ava serves at the bakery is pure Rocky Mountain spring water. Nothing with sugar or artificial sweeteners, which precludes coffee and tea, as customers would demand them.

She’s a purist if there ever was one. Not a vegan, though. Vegan and Steel don’t mesh.

I take a bite of my Dale.

“Nice save,” Diana says.

I chew and swallow. “What? I’m eating my lunch.”

She shakes her head at me and picks up her own sandwich, taking a bite. I stay quiet as she chews and swallows.

Finally, she says, “Please, Dale.”

I set my sandwich down on my plate and take a bite of the crisp dill pickle. “Why is this so important to you?”

“Because we made a commitment to Ashley.”

“First of all, I didn’t make any commitment. This whole thing just happened to land in my lap. But that’s not even the point. None of us broke a commitment. Leaving is her decision. Hers. Not mine or anyone else’s.”

“I get it. Her decision. But Dale, you must have done something.”

“I was only myself.”

She doesn’t answer. She takes another bite of sandwich and then drinks some water. Finally, “You’re my brother, and I love you. Donny, Bree, and I all do. But you’re tough on people, Dale.”

“I’ve never been tough on you a day in my life.”

“I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about… For lack of a better word, outsiders.”

Outsiders.

The word makes me jolt a little.

Outsiders.

Donny and I were once outsiders here, and we were welcomed with open arms.

Am I really tough on outsiders?

No, I’m tough on insiders.

Meaning anyone who I risk letting inside me.

And in less than twenty-four hours, Ashley White has threatened to permeate my inner layers. I can’t say any of this to my sister.

“Fine,” I relent. “I’ll ask her to stay.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ashley

I don’t need to pack. I’ve barely unpacked. I’ll just ride with Diana into Denver tomorrow and then book a flight home to LA. Easy enough. I’ll have to live with my mom, though, since I sublet my studio. God, three months of not being taken seriously. Of being told to get my head out of the clouds and get a job so I don’t end up on the streets like she did. And then I’ll say, “Hey, you’re the one who insisted I go to college.” And she’ll come back with, “So you could get a job. A real job with a desk so you wouldn’t have to break your back doing hair all day. Not so you could drink wine.”

Great.

My phone rings. Hmm. I don’t recognize the number, and I’m not in the mood. I let it ring.

I fire up my laptop to book a plane ticket tomorrow evening.

And the damned phone rings again.

This time it’s Diana.

“Hey,” I say into the phone.

“Ashley.”

The low, rich voice. Even though it’s through a phone line, the dark-red color is still vivid. Usually my sound colors are less intense through technology, but not in Dale Steel’s case.

I swallow. “Hello. You don’t sound like Diana.”

“You didn’t answer when I called from my phone.”

“I don’t answer calls from numbers I don’t recognize.”

A pause. Then, “Fair enough.”

“Did you want something?” I ask.

You. I want you.

He won’t say that, no matter how much I ache for him to.

“You’re obviously with Diana,” I continue, “since this is her number.”

“We’re at our cousin’s bakery having lunch.”

Right. The pink-haired cousin. Diana told me about her. “And you called me because…”

He clears his throat. Man, even phlegm dislodging from Dale’s larynx is a beautiful sound. This is nuts.

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