door.
“That’d be great. Sure you won’t have a glass?”
“No, thanks. I’ve been dreaming of that lemonade for the last hour and a half.”
“It’s in the glass pitcher. Help yourself.”
She pulled the pizza out of the oven and then grabbed some dishes from the cabinet. They both worked together to get the food and drinks on the table and then sat down.
She took a bite of her pizza, careful not to let the cheese string messily.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Jack lift a piece of pizza to his mouth too. “Kind of feels like a date, doesn’t it?” he asked.
She coughed and then choked on her bite of pizza. “What?” she said when she could finally breathe again.
He looked at her with momentary concern as she reached for her glass of wine. “I just mean it feels that way. Not that it is.”
She had difficulty taking in a full breath. “Why would it feel that way? We’ve eaten dinner before.”
He shrugged broad shoulders. “I don’t know. Honestly, it’s been so long since I’ve been out with a woman, I don’t even know what a date feels like anymore.” He chuckled to himself.
“Me either.”
Jack looked at her for a long second as if he might say something more. Why had he stood her up for prom, just when they were getting close? Why had he never shown interest in her ever again? She’d been halfway to being in love with him, and her senior prom was going to be the best night of her life. Instead, it’d been one of the worst.
His cell phone rang, and Barnaby pounced toward the noise, barking loudly. One shush from Emma silenced him. Jack chuckled as he shifted to pull the phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “It’s my sister. I better take this.”
Emma nodded, relieved when he stepped away from the table. She closed her eyes for a long moment. Jack wasn’t into her that way. The way she was into him. She was thirty years old. It was time for her to move on.
Barnaby announced Jack’s presence as he stepped back into the room. “Hey, I’m sorry, Em. I have to go.”
“Is Amanda okay?” she asked. She could already tell by the look on his face that she wasn’t.
“I don’t think so. She needs me to come get Sam tonight. It’s a two-hour drive so I better get going.”
Emma frowned. “That’s four hours round trip. You’ll be driving through the night. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”
Jack shook his head. “Amanda is addicted to a prescription drug she was on last year. She’s trying to come off it, but she’s having withdrawal symptoms. A friend of hers is going to stay with her tonight and drive her to a substance abuse facility tomorrow. But she doesn’t want Sam to see her like this.”
Emma took a breath. “Poor Amanda. Poor Sam…I’m coming with you.” She pushed back from the table.
Jack looked surprised by her offer. “You don’t have to do that. Barnaby needs you here, and I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will. But just in case you’re not, I’ll be there.” She grabbed her purse and headed toward the door, not giving him time to argue or herself time to second-guess. Barnaby followed behind her, apparently set on coming as well. “That’s what friends do,” Emma called over her shoulder.
Chapter Four
Jack wasn’t sure what kind of help Emma thought she was giving him right now. She’d fallen asleep thirty minutes after leaving Sweetwater Springs, with Barnaby snoring softly in her lap, and hadn’t stirred in the almost two hours since.
He chuckled to himself and sang along to country music on the radio. If Emma were awake, she’d protest. She was a girl who liked her soft rock.
Turning onto his sister’s road, his good mood belly flopped as he pondered the reason he was in his truck. Amanda had followed their family’s pattern of addiction. Jack understood why she wouldn’t want Sam to know. Jack’s perception of his father had changed as he grew up, watching him get drunk night after night. His father, who had once been a hero in Jack’s eyes, was now just a guy who could keep it together long enough to make it to work sober. Soon as he left his job, it was him and the bottle. Nothing and no one else mattered, including his family.
Jack’s foot lifted off the gas pedal, slowing and giving himself a chance to collect himself. He pulled into