Brooklynn hadn’t had a date for Valentine’s Day in years. The February before Ryker had died, he’d been out of town and she’d made herself a batch of red velvet cupcakes and gone to her parents’ house.
But tonight, Dave was coming to get her and they were going to Bell Hill for dinner and dancing. He’d apparently bought a ticket to a community event up there the local dance studio was putting on.
“There will be food and music,” he’d told her earlier in the week when he’d asked her out. “It looks like it’ll be fun at least. If we’re hungry because the food is bad, we can stop anywhere you want.”
She’d readily agreed, because she didn’t care what she did with Dave. They’d been spending many evenings together, sometimes just at her house, and sometimes at his. If it wasn’t raining, they wa
