Henry’s eyebrows rose. “You don’t know much about your husband, do you?”

“It was a quick courtship.”

Henry laughed. “Matthew understands buildings better than anybody I’ve met. Could sit in an air-conditioned office and tell everyone else what to do. Instead, he puts on a hard hat and checks the concrete himself.”

“Why?”

“Because concrete doesn’t lie to important people.”

Before Rebecca could ask what that meant, Matthew returned. His hand touched hers when he took the flask. His palm was warm, rough, and real.