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“I like nice restaurants.”

“I know.”

“I even like the club when it’s all decorated for Christmas.”

Now he looked genuinely doubtful. “You hate the club.”

“I hate parts of the club.”

“Which parts do you like?”

“The Christmas tree.”

“That’s what you like?”

“And the hot chocolate.”

Dean stared at me long enough that I almost laughed. “You’re arguing for country-club hot chocolate?”

“It’s excellent hot chocolate.”

“I’m sure the oppressed masses will be relieved.”

“I’m serious.”

His smile faded when he realized I meant it.

The words came out more carefully then because I didn’t want to hurt him, and also because I wasn’t sure until I said them how true they were.

“I love my parents. They have their faults, but they mean well.”

Otis shifted beside us and laid his head across my ankle, choosing the exact moment when both of us needed comfort.

Dean reached down to scratch the dog behind one torn ear.

“I thought you wanted out,” he said.

“I thought I did too.”

Dean looked at me then.

“Sometimes I do,” I said. “I want out of everybody planning out my future for me. I want out of being told what’s sensible and safe before I’ve had the chance to do stupid stuff and make my own mistakes.”

His mouth tipped up slightly. “You’re pretty good at doing stupid stuff.”

“Thank you.”

“I mean that with affection.”

I looked out across the water. “I don’t want to leave everything behind.”

“I guess I figured Maple Bluff was the problem,” he said.

“So did I.”

“And Paul?”

I took a breath. “Sometimes he’s the problem, too.”