Free A Promise of Forever by Marilyn Pappano

store windows, and Ben pointed out a few other restaurants: CaraCakes, located down a side street; Luca’s, an Italian place also on a side street; and Rosemary, a trendy little sandwich shop in an old sandstone storefront. A pale green-and-white awning shaded the south-facing building from the sun, and mismatched tables and chairs in pastel shades filled the dining room. It was charming and adorable and reminded her of nothing so much as a pile of delicately hued Easter eggs.
    “The same people who own Rosemary also own Tallgrass’s priciest restaurant,” he said as they passed to the next business. “It’s the kind you’re not fond of, though they do spell the name properly. It’s called Sage.”
    She wrinkled her nose. “The place that was here when I was a kid was named Diner and was always busy. No fancy name needed.”
    “Did you spend a lot of time in Tallgrass when you were a kid?” Ben asked.
    “As much as I could. I loved staying with GrandMir and Popi and going to work at the nursery.”
    “Where was your favorite shady spot to read?”
    She smiled at the memory. “Under the weeping willow. It was my cave, my castle, my underwater kingdom.” Her sigh was long and wistful. “I love that tree. When I finally get a house of my own, the first thing I’m going to do is plant one for my own kids.”
    Ben bent to pick up a piece of newspaper on the sidewalk, then tossed it into the garbage can a few steps ahead. “You know Tallgrass isn’t the same place where your mother grew up.”
    With a twinge of wistfulness, she said, “I know. But it beats hell out of where I’ve been. There’s plenty of food, running water, health care, schools. Kids don’t have to worry about IEDs or missiles or gunfire. They don’t go to bed wondering if they’ll wake up in the morning or fear every time their parent leaves the house that they won’t come back. They know they can do almost anything they want to do. They have hope and opportunity and a future to look forward to.”
    When Ben didn’t say anything right away, she gave him a sidelong glance. His expression was thoughtful, his gaze distant. She had no clue his opinion about the war, and frankly, she didn’t care a whole lot. Her conscience was clear, and, given her job, that was the most important thing to her.
    After a moment, he pushed his hands into his pockets. “It’s easy to forget about the kids sometimes,” he said quietly. “It’s so far away. When I think of the war, I think in personal terms—Patricia’s husband, Lucy’s, Carly’s, all the other margarita sisters. I don’t consider that there are kids and families who are just trying to survive.”
    “It’s what they do there. It’s what they’ve done for centuries. Try to survive. We’re not making it easy for them. No one ever has.”
    Sweat trickled down her spine, making her wiggle her shoulders to stop the tickle. Pushing the grim thoughts to the back of her mind, she forced a smile. “I don’t know about you, but I think I’m melting. Want to head back to the car?”
    He swiped his arm across the sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. “Air conditioning sounds good.”
    Shifting her dessert bag to her other hand, she took his hand and tugged him to the curb. Sweet feelings tumbled in her stomach, pure happiness at the contact, and her palms turned damp—if that couldn’t be blamed on the weather. As they waited for a car to pass, her shoulder bumped his, and a faint shiver passed through her. “How much time do you spend in Tallgrass?”
    They crossed the street at a lazy pace, and on the opposite side, she released his hand. He didn’t let go, though, but instead laced his fingers through hers. “How long will you be here?”
    “Four weeks.”
    His gaze locked with hers, his eyes dark and seriously intense. “I suspect I’ll be here a lot more this month than I was last month.”
    Another shiver went through Avi, girlish and silly and sending quivery