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“Doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time,” I said, and I meant it. Oddly, I’d come to look forward to dinner with her parents, and not just because it meant I got to see Lake. I always loved Cathy’s cooking. I enjoyed Tiffany and Lake’s bickering-turned-giggling. I didn’t even mind Charles treating me like a stranger in his home. I was part of a family, and after years of feeling as if I’d go through this life alone, it surprised me that I actually wanted that.

“My dad will want to talk to you, by the way,” she said.

“How come?”

“His company has a big construction project in Irvine, and he knows some guy in charge. He thinks he can get you on the job. It’s all above board, and it pays well, so it’s competitive, but my dad has pull.”

I sat back a little. “Why would he do that?”

“Because I asked him to.”

I shook my head. “He’s given us enough. I don’t need him to find my work for me.”

“Yes, you do, Manning. After what happened . . .” She took a breath. “The odds are stacked against you, and it wasn’t even your fault. You deserve a chance.”

I rubbed my temples with one hand. I fucking hated this. I wanted to work, and I was a good employee. It shouldn’t be this hard for me. What kind of man did it make me to keep taking help from my girlfriend’s dad? What kind of man couldn’t provide for just the two of us? Then again, would a good man turn down an opportunity that could benefit both me and Tiffany out of pride?

“How long is the job?” I asked.

“All summer. Then maybe you can use that to get other jobs.”

In the career department, my parole officer helped where he could, but he was overloaded. He’d tell me to take the job. I looked up at the sky, exhaling through my nose. “I don’t need your dad to get it for me. I’ll go myself and talk to the foreman.”

“They’ve already hired everyone. You can’t just go and ask.” She ran her fingers along my hairline, behind my ear. “Just talk to him tonight. You don’t have to commit to anything.” She pulled fuzz or something from my stubble. “I mean, it kind of depends on what we’re doing. Obviously, I don’t think you should work for my dad if . . .”

“If?”

“If you and I decide to break up.”

“Break up?” I asked. “Why would we?”

“I love you, Manning, I’m just not sure . . . I mean, if you’re not interested in having more with me, then what are we doing?”

“More,” I repeated.

“Have you given it anymore thought since we talked last month? The whole marriage thing?”

I swallowed. “Yeah, I have.”

“And?”

And the more I thought about it, the more the idea grew on me. Tiffany and I were on a good path. The more comfortable she got around me, the more she opened up. The more she laughed and made me laugh. In the bedroom, I didn’t have to hold back with her. She and I didn’t have the explosive chemistry people wrote novels about, but I didn’t want that. Not even a little. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Tiffany or to her family. “I think we should do it,” I said. “I don’t mean right now or anything, but I want to be with you. I don’t want to break up.”

She pecked me on the lips, then wiped away the lip gloss she’d left behind. “Me neither, but if we’re talking marriage, there is one thing I think you should know.” Her shoulders curled forward a little. “The morning after Lake’s prom, you know how I brought up the night at camp when she got in your truck . . .”

I tensed instinctively but forced myself to relax, hoping she hadn’t noticed the pull of my muscles. “Yeah. What about it?”

“I never apologized for lashing out at you. It’s not your fault Lake has a crush on you. It bothered me that you even let her in, but it’s not because of her or even you.”

My mind worked to keep up. The way she said I’d let Lake get in the truck made me wonder how detailed Lake had gotten about that night. “I told you, it was innocent,” I said. “A drive, that’s all.”

“I know. It doesn’t—it’s not what I want to talk about. It’s more about my dad.”

I furrowed my brows. “Your dad?”

She took a slow, deep breath, as if working up her courage. “He had an affair.”

I blinked once at her. Charles had cheated on Cathy . . . it took a moment to sink in, but it didn’t shock me. I was more surprised Tiffany hadn’t mentioned it before. “Are you sure?”

“When I was in middle school. I missed the bus one afternoon, so I walked to my dad’s work. Sometimes he’d let me sit and do homework until he was finished and we’d drive home for dinner.” She picked at nothing on the hem of her dress. “Anyway, this time I walked in on him having sex with his secretary.”

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