“Excuse me,” a voice called out, giving me a good reason to slip my phone back in my pocket. Georgia had said she was good with pizza once before. I’d put the items in my cart back and pick up Carlino’s on the way home. When I looked up, I saw Iris Shaw standing in front of me dressed in a starched white shirt with a floral scarf around her neck. She seemed very well put together compared to me. I was still wearing my workout clothes and a backwards ball cap. Our carts were nearly touching in front of a display of potatoes.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “I hope I didn’t run into you.” This woman already didn’t like me. I wasn’t doing a very good job of improving the impression she had of me. I’m sure I looked like an idiot.

“You didn’t,” she assured me. “You were very into whatever you had on that screen.”

“I was looking up—” I paused. I’d already given up on trying to cook dinner. “It’s doesn’t matter. I’m sorry if I was blocking your way.”

“You’re Brett, right?” she asked. “I don’t think we were properly introduced last time.” She extended her hand, and shocked the shit out of me when she smiled. “I’m Iris Shaw.”

“Yes ma’am,” I said, placing my hand in hers. “I’m Brett Sallinger.”

“I wanted to apologize for the way I acted that day we met,” she said as I shook her hand. “I wanted to let you know that it had nothing to do with you. I guess I just wasn’t prepared to see Georgia with someone else.”

“It’s okay,” I said, releasing her hand. “I understand.” I smiled politely.

“You know,” she said, “I can understand why Georgia likes you. You’ve got a sweet smile.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“And good manners.”

“I try. I was raised in the South. My mama didn’t give me any other option than to be polite.”

“She did right by you then.” She laughed. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my behavior that day. It was wrong of me to react the way I did. I trust Georgia’s judgment,” she paused. I could see the nostalgia in her eyes. The thoughts of her son with Georgia. “I hope you know how lucky you are to have her in your life.”

“I do.” I’m not sure why, but having Iris Shaw be nice to me was doing something for my morale. This woman didn’t know me from Adam and she surely didn’t owe me anything, but having her give me her blessing when it came to Georgia was beyond reassuring. I knew how much Georgia loved Jamie’s family and how much she worried about them not being disappointed in her decisions, even if they were her own.

“For what it’s worth.” I paused, I wanted Iris to know that I did respect her son’s memory. “I know I didn’t know Jamie, but from what I’ve learned he was a real stand-up guy. I haven’t met a person from this town that doesn’t have great things to say about him. And I really admire him for serving our country, the military and its servicemen are something I have always respected,” I paused when I saw her eyes get a little misty. She smiled and nodded, telling me it was okay for me to continue. “I’d say you did right by him too.”

“Thank you for your kind words.” She started to push her cart past me, but stopped to place her hand on my arm. “Treat her right.”

“I will,” I promised. We held each other’s gaze for a moment, a thousand unspoken words passing between us. This was her blessing. This was her accepting that her son’s fiancée was moving on. This was me telling her that I’d take care of the girl who used to be his.

“Okay,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “I’m sure you’re about done with blubbering woman in the grocery store. I’ll leave you be.”

“Ma’am,” I said, before she wheeled away. “Can I ask you for a favor?” She turned back to face me. “Any chance you can tell me what the heck I’m supposed to do with this chicken?”

I could not wait to get home. The drive back from class that day seemed to take twice as long as usual. The fields were bare and the trees had almost lost all of their leaves. It was a bleak landscape and quite boring for driving. Brett had texted me that he was cooking me dinner. I wasn’t sure what that entailed, but I was starving. I’d texted him that I was on my way and as I drove down the two-lane highway that connected my hometown with the college town, I felt completely at peace.

No stress. No worries. Nothing. Just contentment. I was a go with the flow girl now. Or at least I was trying to be. Brett had helped me see that living in the moment had its perks. Without the stress of planning every single thing I did down to the minute, I had much more time to appreciate the things—and the people—that were right in front of me. We’d spent a fair amount of time with my sister and Reid while they were home. The four of us laughed and talked for hours over beer and take-out.

Moreover, I was thoroughly enjoying my time with Brett. Each kiss. Each touch. Each night that we spent wrapped up in each other’s arms. Not to mention, the hours that we’d spent talking about everything under the sun. I’d thought I had a pretty good understanding of who he was as a person, but as he described his childhood and family to me, I could grasp his wild and carefree side a little better.

“My parents were supportive,” he’d told me. “I mean, as supportive as they could be considering they knew nothing about the sport.” He’d laughed, but I could tell by the pained look on his face that it bothered him a little bit. “My mom always said she didn’t understand it and my dad has always been more focused on my riding as a business. Which is good, I guess. He helped me invest my money and I’ve got more in the bank now than I would have if I was left to my own devices.”

“At least they were supportive,” I’d told him.

“That’s true,” he’d replied. “I mean, I wish they would show a little more interest. I used to think that the bigger and better I got, the more they’d come around, but it never really happened.”

I was glad that he was successful. I was in awe of his commitment and determination. Over the last few week’s I’d watched him breeze through his recovery. He rarely complained and only once had I heard him doubt his abilities. He was as passionate about his career as I was about mine. But still, every time I thought about watching him ride, I got that feeling in the pit of my stomach that reminded me exactly how dangerous his career was. I was always looking for the safest, most responsible way of doing things. Probably because I’d experienced loss. I knew what could happen. I knew what it felt like to bury someone you loved. My idea and Brett’s idea of living life to the fullest were very different. He was no risk, no reward and I was no risk is the reward.

“Hey baby,” he said greeting me with a kiss the second I walked through the cabin door. “Missed you today.” He quickly headed back to the kitchen. His face was flush and he’d thrown a dish towel over his shoulder.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were actually cooking me a meal.” I kicked off my shoes and shrugged out of my jacket, tossing it on the bench that sat next to the door. The extra pep he seemed to have as he swaggered into the kitchen—clearly proud of himself—had me smirking as I followed him. “No take out tonight?”

“I actually did cook,” he told me. “It was touch and go there for a minute, but I managed to pull it off with a little help.” He winked as he pulled open the oven. “Baked chicken.” He grabbed the towel on his shoulder and used it to retrieve the dish he’d prepared.

“You made this?” I was impressed. It smelled as good as it looked—seasoned chicken and cut up potatoes were still simmering as he sat the dish on the counter.

“Like I said, I had a little help. Iris Shaw actually gave me the recipe when I ran into her at the grocery store today.”