Homecoming at Hickory Ridge. Dana Corbit

      “You don’t give up easily, do you?”

      “My dad always said I was as stubborn as a mule, but I’d like to think I’ve got the old gal beat.”

      He had to give her credit: she was tenacious to a fault. “If I agree to go later, will you let me get back to work? I want to finish this before I leave today.”

      “Then you might want to plug in the Ethernet cable for the network and turn on the router.”

      “I’ll get around to it.” And he would after she left because he needed to go ask Andrew how those two particular items worked.

      “Great. Do you want to meet downtown at about eight?” She fiddled with the keys dangling from her fingers.

      “Sounds good. Don’t forget your committee stuff. I didn’t think you’d be starting on that for a few more weeks.”

      She shrugged. “You know. Early bird and all.”

      With a wave, she turned out of his office, heading toward the stairs. The paperwork she’d come for could probably be found in the main office downstairs anyway.

      Kyle went back to work, wrestling a mess of wires into some order. As much as he focused on the task, though, his thoughts kept returning to Julia’s visit.

      He didn’t know what to make of that, other than the obvious that she was a do-gooder in search of a project, but he didn’t want to think about it right now. Analyzing it would make the whole coffee thing a bad idea. The anticipation flexing deep in his gut should have already given him a warning. Just coffee; it wasn’t a real date, though his definitions might have blurred in the last few lonely years.

      Those negative thoughts rankled him. Why couldn’t he enjoy the fact that he was about to go for coffee with the most beautiful woman he’d seen this side of the television in more than three years? Why did he worry about Julia’s motives instead of just enjoying the moment?

      He should have said no when she asked again. It had been hard enough asking his cop brother for a job reference. Now he had a woman turning him into a charity project. How much could a man’s pride take?

      Yes, he should have turned down Julia’s offer, and there was still time to cancel, though he wouldn’t kid himself by saying he would. A smile pulled at his lips as he realized she probably would talk him into going again, anyway.

      The smile transformed into a frown as soon as the next thought crossed his mind. Sure, it was only coffee, only an opportunity to let Julia become the friend she so obviously wanted to be. That’s where the trouble came in. Already, he could picture her sitting across from him with those shining eyes and warm smile. It would be hard to spend time with Julia, a woman who was too good for him on his best day, and not to wish the date were real.

      Chapter Three

      Julia took her first sip of vanilla latte, closing her eyes and letting the sweet foamy milk at the top rest in her mouth before swallowing. “Hmm.” Maybe if she focused on the drink instead of the company across the table from her, she could convince her hands to stop trembling. Why had she thought it would be a good idea to invite Kyle out for coffee? Who was she trying to convince that his ex-con status didn’t bother? Kyle or herself?

      “You say that now, but you’ll be saying grrrr later tonight when you can’t get to sleep.”

      When she opened her eyes, she caught Kyle grinning at her. “I ordered decaf, remember?” she told him.

      Julia attributed her hurrying pulse to nerves rather than that potent smile.

      “Never understood the point of decaf.” Kyle took a long drink from his own double espresso.

      “You’ll understand when it’s three in the morning and you’re wide awake and reading your Bible instead of sleeping.” Julia stiffened and looked at him sheepishly. She couldn’t go around assuming that everyone got into Bible study, ex-cons or not. “Sorry.”

      “Why? Because I’ll be missing all those ZZZs?” He studied her for a few seconds before adding, “Julia, I read the Bible. They allow the ‘Good Book’ behind prison walls. The wardens think it’s better than Uzis or machetes.”

      “I didn’t mean—”

      But he brushed away her comment with a wave of his hand and took another sip of his coffee.

      Julia frowned at the insulated cup in front of her. Great, now she’d insulted him by questioning his faith, based only on a criminal record. Kyle probably wished he’d stuck with his earlier refusal to go for coffee. She was fumbling for a way to backpedal when he set his cup aside.

      “There were a lot of people at the prayer meeting dinner last night.”

      Relief filled her that he’d let her off the hook. “It was a nice crowd. Reverend Bob seemed pleased.” She paused long enough to take another sip.

      The door opened then, and a group of teenagers in Milford High School track warm-ups shuffled inside, bringing their rambunctious energy with them. Though the coffee shop offered plenty of background noise now, an uncomfortable silence settled between Kyle and Julia. As always, Julia wished she shared her sister Charity’s easy way with people and fearlessness in social situations.

      “So Hannah said you’re a teacher?” Kyle said.

      “Yes. The kids are great. So excited to learn. Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to be a teacher.”

      “It had to be great figuring out so early on what you wanted to be when you grew up.” He shrugged, a charming, boyish smile settling on his lips. “I’ve always been on the slow track in getting a clue.”

      “But you’ve figured it out now, right?” She sounded like Miss Mary Sunshine, but his words made her uncomfortable, and she wanted to help him see the bright side.

      “You mean, the job at the church? Helping build the prison ministry is fine work for now. A step in the right direction. But definitely not something I want to be doing forever. I don’t need the constant reminder.”

      She nodded, trying to see the situation from his point of view. She could see how it might be important to him to leave prison life behind him, and no matter how much he wanted to give back, the ministry would trap him in the past.

      “You have something else in mind? Maybe something at Lancaster Cadillac-Pontiac-GMC?”

      “How’d you know?” he began, then shrugged.

      He must have understood that information traveled quickly in churches, especially when someone was looking for it. Until today, Julia had never realized that Sam Lancaster, the owner of the Bloomfield Hills auto dealership who used to do his own TV commercials, was Brett’s dad, let alone Kyle’s.

      “Dad has to retire sometime,” Kyle said. “And there’s something to be said for a job where you wear a suit and don’t have to get your hands dirty.”

      “I don’t know. I think any job is fine as long as it’s good, honest work.”

      She’d only meant to encourage Kyle in his present position, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to cram them all back inside. His tight expression told her he’d taken her comment the way she’d hoped he wouldn’t: as if he were a criminal who needed to find honest work.

      “Well, are you going to ask? Or have you already heard?”

      “Heard what?” she asked, though she could guess since she’d led them right to this topic. Charity had given her some details about the Lancaster family’s auto dealership and let her know that Kyle was twenty-eight, the youngest of Sam and Colleen Lancaster’s three children. Even Charity hadn’t known the specifics about Kyle’s conviction, though. Brett always had been tight-lipped about his brother’s incarceration.

      Because Kyle crossed his arms and waited for her to give him a better answer, she