Kiss me, she thought as loudly as she could.

He didn’t. He just stared at her, which made her nervous. And being nervous made her talk.

“It’s great to have you back,” she mumbled. “Here in Fool’s Gold.”

Ack! Really? As opposed to just in the state or country?

“I’m glad to be back,” he told her. “Your friendship meant a lot to me.”

“It meant a lot to me, too.”

He moved closer and closer...and stood up.

“I should head back to the hotel,” he said, stepping to the side and starting down the stairs. “Thanks for dinner.”

Patience watched him go. She supposed some socially correct response was called for, but all she could think was Justice Garrett owed her a kiss and she was going to find a way to collect.

* * *

THE NEXT EVENING Patience climbed the stairs to the house. It was her day to work late, so it was already close to seven. Her mom took care of Lillie’s dinner and helped with any homework, which made the later shift easier. She knew that she was lucky—a lot of single moms didn’t have the built-in support she did.

She opened the front door and was about to call out she was home when she saw her mother talking on the phone. Ava looked intense and concerned, neither of which was good. Patience dropped her purse onto the table by the door, then headed up the stairs to her daughter’s room.

Lillie was curled up on her bed, reading.

“Hey, baby girl,” Patience said as she walked over and sat on the mattress.

“Mom!” Lillie dropped the book and lunged forward for a hug. “You’re home.”

“I am. How was your day?”

“Good. My math test was easy. We’re watching a video on gorillas tomorrow and we had tacos for dinner.”

Patience kissed her daughter’s forehead, then stared into her eyes. “I noticed you slipped in that bit about the math test.”

Lillie grinned. “If I study, the tests are easier than if I don’t.”

“Uh-huh. Which means I was...”

“Right.” Her daughter grumbled. “You were right.”

Patience squeezed her. “That never gets old.”

“You love being right.”

“I love it more when you say it.” Patience glanced toward the stairs. “Do you know who Grandma’s talking to?”

“No.”

Patience supposed she would get the story when her mother hung up. “I’m going to make a salad. Do you want anything?”

“No, thanks.” Lillie picked up her book.

Patience went back downstairs and into the kitchen. She could hear her mother’s voice, but not the conversation. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out leftover taco meat. By the time her mother had hung up, she’d assembled a salad and was carrying it to the table.

“Sorry,” Ava said as she walked into the kitchen. “That was my cousin, Margaret.” She took the chair across from her daughter.

Patience took a bite of her salad and chewed. “She lives in Illinois, right?” she asked when she’d swallowed.

Her mother had some family in the Midwest. Patience vaguely remembered a few of them visiting when she’d been little, but there hadn’t been much contact in years. There were the obligatory cards and letters at the holidays and not much else.

“Yes. Margaret and her mother, who is my step-aunt. It’s complicated.” Ava paused.

Patience watched her, aware that something had happened. Ava was flushed. She shifted in her seat and couldn’t keep her hands still.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Her mother started to smile, then shook her head. She half rose, then collapsed back in the chair. “Great-Aunt Becky died.”

“Who?”

“Great-Aunt Becky. My step-aunt’s mother. She’s not technically a relative—at least I don’t think so. She and I wrote the occasional letter. You met her once. You were four.”

“Okay.” Patience put down her fork. “I’m sorry she died. Are you upset?”

“I’m sad, of course. But like you, I only met her a few times. She visited us when you were little.” Her mother smiled. “You took to her. From the second you first met her, you couldn’t stand to be away from her. You wanted her to hold you. You wanted to be on her lap. When she got up, you followed her from room to room. It was very sweet.”

“Or annoying, if Great-Aunt Becky wasn’t into kids.”

Ava laughed. “As it turned out, she was as charmed by you as you were by her. She extended her visit twice and you both cried when she left. She always meant to come back, but never made it.”

“I wish I could remember her.” Patience had vague recollections of a tall woman, but that could have been anyone. “Do you want me to send a card?”

“If you’d like. The thing is, Great-Aunt Becky left you some money. An inheritance.”

“Oh.” That was unexpected. “Didn’t she have children of her own?”

“One daughter. Great-Aunt Becky was very wealthy, so her immediate family is taken care of. You don’t have to worry.” Ava leaned forward and took Patience’s hands in hers. “She left you a hundred thousand dollars.”

Patience stared at her mother. She heard a rushing in her ears and if she’d been standing, she would have surely fallen to the floor. The space-time continuum seemed to shift just a little to the left.

“A hundred...”

“Thousand dollars,” her mother said. “You heard that right.”

The number was too big. No. It was too huge. Impossible to grasp. That was all the money in the world.

“Margaret wanted to let me know that the lawyer in charge of Great-Aunt Becky’s estate will be calling you in the morning. He has the check written and ready to overnight to you.”

Patience pulled one hand free to press it to her chest. “I don’t think I can breathe.”

“I know.”

“We can pay off the mortgage.”

“I don’t want you to worry about that.”

Patience shook her head. “Mom, you’ve been there for me all my life. I want to pay off the mortgage. Then I’ll fund Lillie’s college account.” She bit her lower lip.

Even after all that, there would still be money left over. Maybe as much as twenty-five thousand dollars. Assuming she put some away for a rainy day, there was still enough to...to...

Ava nodded. “I know. I thought of that, too.”

“The coffeehouse.”

“Yes. We could do it.”

Patience sprang to her feet and raced upstairs. When she reached her bedroom, she pulled open the bottom drawer of the small desk under the window and removed a file. It was her business plan—the one she’d been working on for years.

She returned to the kitchen and spread out the papers.

Everything was there. The cost of the lease, money for minor renovations, equipment, supplies and some promotions. There were cost projections, income estimates and a profit-and-loss statement.

“We could do it,” she breathed. “It would be tight.”

“I have some money I’ve saved,” Ava told her. “I’d want to invest in the business. That way we’re really partners.”

“We’re partners no matter what.”

“I want to do this, Patience. I want you to open the business and I want to help.”

Patience returned to her seat. “I’m terrified. I’d have to quit my job with Julia to do this.” Which meant giving up the security of a regular paycheck. She would also have to take on the lease and hire people.

Her stomach churned. Somehow dreaming was a whole lot easier than facing the possibility of trying and failing. Yet even as she wondered if she could, she knew there wasn’t really a choice. She’d been given a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Great-Aunt Becky’s gift deserved more than her being afraid.

“You want to do this?” she asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Then we will.” She drew in a breath. “I’ll call Josh about the building I have my eye on and get an appointment to see it as soon as possible. Once we figure out if that’s the right space, we can move forward.”

She stood and her mother did the same. They faced each other.

“We’re really doing this,” Patience said, laughing.

“We are!”

They hugged each other and started jumping up and down. Lillie appeared on the stairs.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re opening the coffeehouse,” Patience said, holding out her arm so her daughter could join them.

“Really? Are you going to call it Brew-haha?”

“I am.”

“Can I help?”

“Yes.”

They hugged and jumped and screamed and danced. When they were all exhausted but still grinning, Ava motioned for them to follow her.

“This calls for ice cream,” she said. “Let’s all go get hot fudge sundaes.”

Patience laughed. “I’ve always admired your style, Mom.”

* * *

“JUSTICE?”

Justice turned at the sound of his name. Patience stood on the other side of the street, waving at him.

The sight of her—worn jeans hugging curves, a T-shirt featuring a white cat with a martini in one paw, long, wavy hair fluttering in the light breeze—hit him in the gut. And lower. Her smile made his mouth curve up, and her enthusiastic wave drew him.

In the fifteen years they’d been apart, he’d never forgotten her, even as he’d wondered if he was remembering more than there was. Now, watching her practically dance in place as he crossed the street to get closer, he knew he’d missed out on the main point. Patience in real life was far more vibrant than any of his recollections.

“Guess what?” she asked as he stepped onto the curb. She grabbed his arm and literally bounced in place. “Guess! Guess!” She squeezed his biceps and grinned. “You’ll never guess, so I’ll tell you.”

Her brown eyes glowed with excitement and her skin was flushed. She looked like someone who had just won the lottery. Or been thoroughly kissed. He found himself fervently hoping for the former and thinking he would have to have a serious talk with someone if it was the latter.

“My great-aunt Becky died!”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“Oh.” The bounce slowed. “You’re right. Of course I’m not happy she’s dead. It’s sad. Apparently she lived a long and happy life, though.”

“You didn’t know her?”

“I met her when I was four. I don’t remember, but apparently I liked her a lot. She liked me, too, and was a fabulously generous woman.” She paused expectantly. “She left me a hundred thousand dollars!”

He smiled. “So that’s what all this is about?”

She started bouncing again. “Can you believe it? A hundred thousand dollars! That’s so much money. My mom and I were talking last night. I can pay off the mortgage and put money aside for Lillie’s college.”

She leaned toward him, the scent of vanilla and something floral drifting to him. “I’m a hairstylist. I love my customers, but some of the guys tip me fifty cents. There was no way I could have saved for Lillie’s college. My mom does well as a software programmer, but her medical insurance is hugely expensive. Some of her medications aren’t covered. She helps, but she has to take care of herself. This money means security for us. I never thought I’d have that.”

Patience released him and spun in a circle. “But you know the best part?”

He shook his head, grateful he didn’t have to speak. Because with her dancing around him, he found his brain wasn’t actually in working order. And other parts of him were starting to take over. Need began to pulse in rhythm with his heart, and had they been anywhere but on a public corner in the middle of Fool’s Gold, he would have pulled her close and kissed her. Then he would have done a whole lot more.

“There’s going to be money left over.”

It took him a second to catch up. “From the inheritance?”

She nodded vigorously. “Look.”

She pointed across the street to a vacant storefront. “Isn’t it perfect?”

The building wasn’t all that remarkable. A door, windows and space inside. But he knew that wasn’t the point. To Patience, this was her dream.

Justice was also going to open a business. It seemed the next logical step. He was sure it would be successful and that he would enjoy the work, but it wasn’t a dream. He didn’t allow that much wanting in his life.

“It’s perfect,” he told her, enjoying the way she gazed at the building—as if it were magical.

“I know exactly how it’s going to look,” she told him. “I already have my business plan. I worked so hard to get my plans together and to save, but honestly I never thought I had a chance.”

He reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’m really happy for you. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” She laced her fingers with his. “Come with me. I’m meeting Eddie right now. She’s going to let me in so I can check out the space.”

Her sparkling brown eyes compelled him to agree. “Sure.”

She drew in a breath and leaned into him. “I’ll try not to make high-pitched girlie sounds. I live with a ten-year-old and know how shrill they can be.”

“You can squeal all you want. This is exciting.”