Her mother had made two pies—a cherry and a coconut cream. She loved homemade pie and her mother made the best in town as far as Jenna was concerned.
“Get out the plates and the whipped cream from the refrigerator. I’ll get the forks.”
“Okay.”
Jenna busied herself with taking plates and utensils out to the dining room. When she came back into the kitchen, her mother was slicing the pie into serving pieces.
“Did you and Ty have a fight?”
Leave it to her mother to have superpower hearing. “No. We’re fine.”
The look she gave Jenna told her she wasn’t buying it. “Want to try that again?”
“Really, Mom. It’s not a big thing. We just don’t see eye to eye on a few matters.”
“Let me ask you a question.”
“All right.”
“Is he good to you?”
“Is he what?”
“Does he treat you well?”
“Of course he does. I wouldn’t be with him if he didn’t.”
“Is he respectful of you?”
“Yes.”
“How do you feel when you’re with him?”
“Mom, really.”
“Just answer the question.”
She sank onto the stool and swiped her finger through the whipped cream. “All twisted up inside. Gooey, like the inside of your cherry pie.”
Her mother nodded, her lips lifting in a knowing smile. “I see. And how do you feel when you’re not with him?”
Jenna sighed. “Again, all twisted up inside. I miss him.”
“Have you told him you’re in love with him?”
God, her mother was like a master interrogator. “I’m not in love with him.”
“Are you so certain of that?”
“I don’t know, Mom. I don’t know how I feel. I’ve never been in love before.”
“You always were the best at hiding your emotions, at never allowing yourself to get close to someone. Love is a scary thing, my darling daughter. But you’re a strong woman and I expect you to face your fears head on, like you’ve faced every adventure you’ve taken in your life. A Riley never backs down from something they’re afraid of.”
Well, hell. She wasn’t prepared for this, hadn’t expected this conversation to get so deep so fast. But now that it had, the floodgates had opened and it was all right there, spilling out.
“I don’t like to fail.”
“I know you don’t. But if you want something that’s really worthwhile, you have to be willing to take the risk.”
And there it was, the opening she needed.
“Mom, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Are you two going to serve the pie, or am I going to have to come in here and steal it?”
Dammit.
Her mom’s focus turned to her dad, who was followed by Nathan, then Mick.
“Yeah, where’s that pie?” Nathan asked, looking eager as he peered over his dad’s shoulder.
The moment was over.
“We’ll talk about this later,” her mother said to her with a pointed look.
But later never happened, because after they ate pie Tyler said he had to leave, and Jenna knew she had to talk to him before he left on his road trip, so she decided she wanted to go with him.
They said their good-byes. Tyler, always the perfect gentleman as he thanked her mother for dinner and shook her dad’s hand, promised to be back soon to watch some games and play hoops in the backyard once the weather warmed up.
She wondered if they’d still be a couple come spring.
Did she want that? He was already past her expiration date, and God, he pushed her way outside her comfort zone. Her life would be so much simpler without him in it.
Yet here she was, driving home with Tyler following her. If she was smart she’d kick him to the curb before he hurt her. Or she hurt him.
She pulled into her garage and got out, shut the garage door, and went inside to let Tyler in. The bite of impending snowfall blew a harsh, howling wind from the north.
He hurried to shut the door, rubbing his hands together as he stepped inside. “I saw a few flakes out there as we were driving. Snow might come in early tonight.”
“I saw them, too. I was listening to the weather on the way home. They’re expecting this to be a big storm. Hope it doesn’t derail your flight in the morning.”
He looked out the window, watched the limbs on the tree in front yard bend from the wind, then turned and looked at her fireplace.
“Do you have wood?”
“Out back.”
“How about a fire?”
“That sounds like a great idea. I’ll make us something to drink. What would you like?”
“Whiskey.” He started toward the kitchen.
“You’re going to stay tonight?”
He stopped, turned, and looked at her, and she read the question on his face. “You want me to?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then. Whiskey.”
She made drinks while he went outside and gathered an armful of firewood, brought it in, and set it down near the fireplace. He got the fire started and she sat down with him near the hearth, listening to the aged wood crackle and pop as the fire got going.
“Too bad I don’t have any marshmallows,” she said as she took a sip of her drink.