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“Addy called him and he does want to work on the building, but he has a big job to finish first. It will be weeks before he can get to it.”

“Mom said he wants to see Miss Livie,” Nell said.

“How interesting.” Jecca looked at Tristan, but he shrugged. He still knew nothing.

He was pulling into the parking lot of Al’s Diner.

Big Al, who was as greasy as his hamburgers and had a truly remarkable belly, didn’t blink an eye when three formally dressed people walked into his diner. He yelled from behind the half counter that opened into the kitchen. “Doc! You want the usual?”

“Sure,” Tris said.

“And you, princess?” he asked Nell. “Grilled cheese and a chocolate milk shake?”

“And—” Tris began.

“Yeah, yeah, pickles for the two of you.” He looked at Jecca. “And you, city lady?”

“City?” Jecca said in an exaggerated accent. “I grew up in New Joisey. Give me what you got and don’t hold back.”

Al gave a snort, a sound that by a serious stretch of the imagination could be taken for a laugh.

“You got it, Jersey ot , aLil.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

“Al gave you a nickname,” Tris said. “You are now officially a member of Edilean society.” He motioned for Jecca to sit beside him, but she didn’t trust herself to be that close to him. She slipped in beside Nell, who was already flipping through the music charts.

“Coward,” Tristan said under his breath.

Jecca pretended not to hear him. “What’s with the pickles?” she asked.

“All the Tristans like them,” Nell said without looking up.

“Tristans?” Jecca asked, looking at him across the table. No man had ever before looked so handsome in a tuxedo. The garment could have been created just for Tris. And he looked utterly comfortable in it, wearing it with the ease of jeans and a T-shirt.

It took concentration to remember where they were and what she was saying. “Are there more than one of you?”

“The name goes back a few generations,” he said as he reached across the table and took her hand. “There’s been a succession of us.”

“And they all like pickles.” Nell held out her hand to her uncle for money to put in the jukebox. Reluctantly, he let go of Jecca’s hand to feel in his trouser pockets. They were empty, so he looked inside his jacket. He came up with change, but he also pulled out Jecca’s note with the hearts on it.

He gave the money to Nell, then looked at Jecca with blue fire in his eyes.

She had to look away as her skin grew warm.

“Miss Livie called Uncle Tris in Miami and told him what you were going to wear,” Nell said. “So he drove us very fast to the airport. We came home with no suitcases.”

Jecca looked at Tris, her eyes questioning.

“I couldn’t let you go to Reede wearing one of Miss Livie’s dresses, now could I?”

Jecca couldn’t help being pleased. She imagined him and Nell running through the big Miami airport, sans luggage, and getting on the first plane where they could find seats. She’d never before had a man make such an effort to be near her.

Elvis came on the jukebox singing “Hound Dog,” and Nell scooted toward Jecca. She wanted out of the booth.

Jecca got up to let her out, thinking she was going to the restroom. Tris leaned back against the wall and motioned for Jecca to join him on that side of the booth. She couldn’t resist him a second time. And she told herself that she’d had enough time to calm down from the dance, so maybe she could sit by him.

But he put out his arm and turned in the seat. It was easy for her to slide into the familiar position of snuggling together, and she sneaked a kiss on the back of his hand.

He had time to put one kiss on her neck before he looked up.

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