Lizzy rolled down her sleeves as she stepped outside and headed toward the barn. The breeze was cool, on the verge of chilly as the sun slid low, reminding her again that summer was slipping away—and that she’d already been here too long. Chuck Bundy’s son was on the mend, and they had an appointment the day after tomorrow to discuss options for listing the farm. Finally, she’d be able to stop dodging Luc’s calls and tell him she was making progress. Sort of.

Human resources had responded to her request to use the balance of her accrued time off for extended leave. Years of skipping vacations and a generous rollover policy had allowed her to accumulate almost eight weeks, but she’d already burned through four of them, which left her with four. Not much time considering all she still needed to do.

A week had passed since Rhanna’s revelation at the cemetery. It was a day neither of them was likely to forget, but it had clearly been therapeutic for Rhanna. She’d spent the next day, and a good part of every day since, out in the shop, experimenting with whatever she could find in the cabinets and drawers. She was also painting again. And perhaps most telling, the unsettling pong of damp earth that used to cling to her was beginning to dissipate, a sign that she’d begun to release the pain and guilt associated with Heather and Darcy Gilman. There was no way to know what the future would hold when they went their separate ways, but for now, at least, it felt good to think that Althea would be pleased. And maybe that would have to be enough for all of them.

Lizzy ducked into the barn, propping the door open behind her. Rhanna’s question about missing the actual hands-on part of perfume making had gotten her thinking. She’d played it off at the time, but the truth was she did miss it. So much so that she’d been toying with the idea of re-creating the Earth Song scent Rhanna had been so fond of as a surprise. She was also mulling over ideas for a scent for Evvie. Something warm and subtle, with a hint of the exotic—a citrusy top note balanced with myrrh, neroli, and jasmine.

But first she’d need to clear her old workbench and sort through her equipment—see what was salvageable, trash what wasn’t, then make a list of ingredients she’d need to get started. She’d also need to start hunting for just the right bottles, preferably vintage. They would be parting gifts, mementos of Moon Girl Farm’s last summer. She wanted them to be special.

As she approached the workbench, she was surprised to see the old chambray smock she had filched from Althea still hanging from its nail, like an old friend waiting patiently for her return. It would need a good washing before she could wear it. She was about to pull it down when she heard the scuff of footsteps. She turned, surprised to find Andrew behind her.

“Hey.” He raised a hand as he came toward her. “I pulled the window to work on the frame, so I had to put up a tarp. I came to see if it held after last week’s downpour. I didn’t expect to find you in here.”

“I’m thinking of starting a new project, but I needed to clear my workbench first.”

“What’s the project?”

“A gift for Rhanna. A perfume she used to like. I’d like to make it a surprise if I can, so I’ll need to work out here—in secret.”

“So things are better with you two?”

Lizzy shrugged. “We talked through some things. It wasn’t exactly a lovefest, but I understand some things I didn’t before. Things she’s never told anyone. I think it’ll give us both some closure when we leave.”

“Any idea when that’ll be?”

“Not yet. I’m still mulling my options. Basically, I have two. Spend money I don’t have to fix the place up, or list it as is and wait months—maybe years—for it to sell. Unfortunately, the property taxes are due in January. Which means I’m probably looking at a mortgage either way.”

Lizzy smothered a groan when her cell rang, already knowing who it was. She slid it from her back pocket, checked the number to confirm, then tapped “Ignore.” “My boss,” she explained sheepishly.

“Luc?”

He’d pronounced the name with a swishy French accent. Lizzy dismissed the snark with a roll of her eyes. “Yes, Luc. I’ve been dodging him for days, so he’s been leaving me messages. He wants to know how long it’s going to take me to wind things up here, and I don’t really have an answer.”

“He’s pressuring you?”

Lizzy half shrugged, half nodded. “It wasn’t supposed to take this long. I thought I’d be done in a few days—a week at most. It’s been a month and I’ve barely scratched the surface.”

“You thought you’d be able to pack up decades of family history in a week?”

“I thought it would be . . . easier. Not just the packing, all of it. I didn’t know the place was falling down, or that Rhanna was going to show up. And I certainly never planned on playing detective in an eight-year-old rerun of Cold Case Files. Luc’s been incredibly patient, but at some point he expects me back.”

“So what’s the deal with you two?”

Lizzy blinked at him, caught off guard by the question. “There is no deal. He’s my boss.”

“Are you sure? Because the last time I asked, you fumbled your answer a little.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” She waited for a response. None came. He wasn’t buying it. “All right. We were seeing each other for a while, but I called it.”

“You make it sound like a baseball game—called on account of rain.”

“I got a promotion. A big one. And I didn’t want everyone thinking . . . you know. So I ended it.”

A crease appeared between his brows. “You ended a relationship because you were worried about what people would think?”

“It wasn’t a relationship,” she corrected evenly. “Not in the way other people classify them. Luc isn’t a commitment kind of guy, and that suited me just fine.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You weren’t looking for a commitment from him? Or from anyone?”

Lizzy turned away, feigning interest in a bottle of ylang-ylang oil, its contents long since evaporated. “Let’s just say it’s not part of my plan.”

“So it’s a career thing?”

“It’s a me thing,” she replied, tossing the empty bottle into a nearby trash can. “Some people are destined for the whole love-and-marriage thing. I’m not one of those people.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. I don’t know anything about your life, or how you see your future. I just . . .” He paused, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets. “Why aren’t you one of those people?”

The question made Lizzy’s mouth go dry. Why were they talking about this? She looked down at her hands, wiping smudges of dust from her palms. “When your last name is Moon, you learn pretty quick not to want what other people have. Not because you don’t want it, but because not everyone gets a choice.” She closed her mouth, shook her head. She’d already said too much. “Sorry. Ignore me.”

His eyes locked on hers, unblinking as a lazy grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “I’ve never been able to ignore you, Lizzy. I think you know that.”

Lizzy took a step back, then another, until she felt the bench at the small of her back. He was too close, the smoky-amber scent of him too distracting. “Please don’t flirt with me, Andrew.”

“Why?”

Breathe. Just breathe. She put a hand to her chest, trying to quell the bloom of warmth beneath her ribs. “Because I might forget that I don’t want to be flirted with, and I don’t want to forget it. I’m not looking for a summer romance.”

His grin slipped, his voice suddenly thick. “Neither am I.”

She flinched when he touched her face, a single knuckle tracing the curve of her cheek. Suddenly it was hard to breathe, hard to pull her gaze from his. “I mean it, Andrew. This isn’t me being coy. What I said before, about not letting myself want what other people have—it’s real. I’m not like most women. I’m not chasing happily-ever-after. I’m . . . different.”

Andrew dropped his hand to his side, but his eyes remained locked with hers. “You think I don’t know that? That you’re . . . different? I’ve lived next to you my whole life. How could I not know?”

“But you don’t, Andrew. Not really. If you did—”

“You’re wrong,” he said, with a strange intensity. “I do know. I’ve always known. The first time I saw you, the first instant . . . I knew you weren’t like anyone else.”

Something about the way he’d paused for just a beat, the way he’d held her gaze when he said it, as if confirming something they both already knew, set off alarm bells in her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just meant . . .”

“I know, Lizzy.” He relaxed visibly as the words left his mouth, as if he’d been holding them in for a long time, and was relieved to finally say them aloud. “I’ve always known. About you. About all the Moons. I know.”

Lizzy froze. It was in his face, his eyes, his words. He did know. Somehow. All of it. Who she was. What she was. Who and what they all were. But how? Had Althea let something slip? Had Evvie?

“How?” she whispered. “How do you know?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just . . . do.”

“For how long?”