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304 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 1, 2013

It wasn’t simple or pretty. Possibly that was his point—that the whole city was dense with history, layered and pulsing with life. Alive. Real.
It was easy to love your idea of someone - to fall hard for their very best self. The question was whether, once you had to spend some time living with their worst self, you could bear to be with them anymore.


"You're a great cook."
Funny the way that hit him - with a wash of warmth, as if nobody had ever told him before. "You're great to cook for."
Maybe when he opened his new place, he should do breakfast. He always liked cooking breakfast. Humble food.
But humble food didn't get you Michelin stars. You'd have to transform it into some whole other thing. Tamarind syrup on your griddlecakes. Oxtail reduction swirled on top of your hand-ground Italian grits.
"I'd tempt you with an eel pie."
"Yuck."
"Don't knock it. You haven't tried my eel pie."
"And yet somehow I'm not tempted."
"If you tried it, you'd be more than tempted. I could tie you naked to my headboard and have you begging for it." He slanted her a glance that made her flush all over. "Oops. Did I say that out loud?"


He wasn't the kind of guy a woman wanted to pin her hopes and dreams on. Not at all.
But that was good, because she wasn't the kind of woman who wanted to pin her hopes and dreams on a guy.
Not anymore.











Ben took her to Park Slope to see about some bees.
He was a farmer. In New York City. It figured, didn’t it? Only May would leave Wisconsin behind, move to New Jersey, stumble her way into a total life meltdown, and then pick a Wisconsin bee farmer to go home with.
”You make me want to be a decent person,” he murmured against her lips. “It’s just awful.” –Ben


