Unable to meet his piercing gaze, she turned and began to meander toward the house. She knew that Wyatt was staying just a step behind her, giving her the space she needed to formulate what she wanted to say. Trouble was, she’d never let herself dwell on the subject, so the words came hard. She snapped a dead twig off a tree and rolled it between her fingertips as she strolled along. “Do you ever remember me talking about how I grew up with Carl, back when you and I were in college together?” “Your late husband, Carl?” “Mmm.” “Uh…kind of. I guess.” “I didn’t talk about him all that much. I had my reasons for not dwelling on him.” “Hey, now, wait a minute. Come to think of it, I vaguely remember you telling me about how some kid named Carl gave you your first kiss. I remember that now, because I remember I hated him.” Annie tilted back her head and let the laughter flow. “I only told you about him because you were bragging about what an experienced kisser you were and I was feeling a little abashed.”
