“Anytime, baby girl. Anytime.”
Jess tried to sneak out of the house without bumping into anyone else in the family, but just outside, she ran into Gram who was walking back to her own cottage. Jess fell into step beside her.
“It was a great dinner, Gram. I know you made that potato soup. No one does it like you do, and it was perfect for a cool fall day.”
Gram gave her a penetrating look, her blue eyes sharp. “Then why didn’t you eat more than a mouthful?”
“I did,” Jess protested. “It was delicious.”
“You might be able to feed someone else that story, young lady, but I know better. I have eyes in my head, don’t I? Now tell me what had you looking so glum earlier.”
Jess had learned years ago when Gram had taken over the household after Megan had left that there was very little she could hide from her grandmother. At seven, when her mother had first gone, Gram had understood the depth of her sorrow. More important, she had been able to convince Jess that her childish belief that her mother’s going had somehow been her fault was nonsense. Gram had made her accept that Megan hadn’t gone because Jess was too much trouble. During those awful first months without her mom, Abby had tried her best to step in and make things better, but it was Gram who’d offered the comfort and reassurance she’d really needed.
Moreover, Jess knew she could trust Gram not to spill her confidences to the rest of the family.
“I’ve been thinking lately that maybe I’ve made a mistake about Will,” Jess admitted.
“In what way?”
Jess gave her an amused look. “You know exactly what way. You’ve been among the many who’ve believed for a while now that there was something going on between us.”
“Doesn’t matter what I think,” Gram told her. “So, you’re saying that you’ve realized you might have feelings for him?”
Jess nodded. “But I think it’s too late.”
“Has he gone off and married someone else?” Gram asked dryly.
“Of course not.”
“Then it’s not too late. You just have to be willing to put your heart on the line, if you truly want to change things.”
“What if it doesn’t work out?” Jess asked. “I’ve lost so many people over the years. Mom went away. Dad was gone most of my childhood, or that’s how it felt. Abby, Bree, Kevin and Connor, they all left.”
“And they’re all back here now,” Gram reminded her. “You never lost them, sweetheart.”
“It felt as if I did,” Jess said, thinking of how often she’d felt left behind. “If I take this chance with Will and it doesn’t work out…” Her voice trailed off.
Gram smiled. “What if it does work out exactly as you’re hoping?” she asked. “That’s what I think is far more likely.”
“You really think Will and I are right for each other?”
“If you’re looking for guarantees, dear heart, I can’t give them to you. Love comes with risks. So does life.” She squeezed Jess’s hand. “But if I were a betting woman—”
“Which we all know you are,” Jess teased. “Your bingo winnings are family legend.”
Gram gave her a scolding look. “If I were a betting woman, I’d say the two of you have better odds than most.”
“Why?” Jess asked.
“Because I’ve seen the way that man looks at you. He’s been crazy for you since back in high school, maybe even earlier, and he’s never let you push him away for long. He just shores up his battered ego and keeps coming back.”
“Not this time,” Jess said. “It’s because of me that he stayed away from dinner today.”
“Then maybe you should apologize for whatever you did,” Gram said.
“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” Jess protested. “I just told him how I felt.”
“Did you consider his feelings with all that honesty?”
“No,” Jess admitted. “I was just trying to be clear. It was silly, really. We’d raided the fridge at the inn, then gone outside to have dinner and watch the sunset. We hadn’t even taken our first sip of wine, and all I did was tell him that we weren’t on a date.”
“And he immediately saw the pattern that Susie and Mack have fallen into,” Gram guessed at once.
Jess regarded her with amazement. “How did you see that so clearly when it never even occurred to me, at least not as the words were coming out of my mouth?”
“Never mind me. Is that how Will saw it?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Then can you blame him for walking away?” Gram shook her head. “I swear I have no idea what goes on in your cousin Susie’s head or why Mack’s catered to her whims for all this time. But I can certainly see why another man would refuse to get caught up in the same situation, especially a man who’s been in the grandstands watching that foolish standoff play itself out. Sometimes I’d like to shake the two of them myself.”
Jess laughed, unable to deny what her grandmother was saying. “I think we all would.”
“Then, whatever you do, don’t follow their lead,” Gram said. “If you want Will, reach out to him. I think it’s time a move came from you. I’m pretty sure if you take a chance, you’ll find that Will’s open to it.” She held Jess’s gaze. “Remember this, life is short. I may be in my eighties and I may have lived a rich, full life, but there are no such things as guarantees that anyone will be as blessed as I have been. Don’t let love slip away from you just because you’re scared.”
They’d reached Gram’s cottage now, with its climbing roses on the picket fence and a birdbath sitting in the middle of a wildflower garden in the yard. The cozy little house was like something from a storybook. At least that’s how Jess had always thought of it. She’d sometimes wondered how Gram had been able to bear walking away from it when she’d come to take care of them.
“Thanks, Gram,” she said, wrapping her grandmother in a hug and noticing how frail she was. There was such strength of purpose and character in Nell that it was sometimes easy to forget that she was no longer young. “I’ll think about what you said. You always make things so much clearer for me.”
“That’s because I’ve lived a long time. Even with my cataracts, there’s plenty that I still see clearly. Love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you,” Jess said, then watched her go inside before heading off to the inn to think about everything they’d discussed. Maybe Gram was right. Maybe all of her uncertainties and insecurities didn’t matter in the end. Maybe reaching out and losing would still be better than never having taken a chance on love at all.
Connie had been called over to the nursery on Sunday afternoon to help Jake load an order of plants for a job that had been postponed twice because of rain.
“I don’t see why you didn’t call one of the men in to help you,” she grumbled as she carried the plants from the greenhouse to the truck. The answer, of course, was that her brother knew he wouldn’t have to pay her, or at least the cynical side of her assumed that was the reason.
Jake gave her the kind of grin that had always won over any woman in the vicinity. It had certainly worked on Bree, but it had lost its power over Connie.
“Because I wanted to see for myself that you weren’t sitting at home moping because Jenny’s away at school,” he said, surprising her. “I don’t know why you refused to come to the O’Briens for dinner today. It made me worry about you.”
“I just wanted a day to myself,” she claimed, unwilling to admit that she’d been half-afraid that Thomas would show up, and she’d be unable to hide her growing feelings for him.
“Thomas was asking about you,” Jake said casually.
Connie’s pulse skipped a beat. “Really? He was there?”
Jake paused in front of her and leveled a look straight into her eyes. “I got the feeling he was disappointed that you weren’t coming. What’s that about?”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, praying that the heat she felt wasn’t turning her cheeks a blinding
shade of red. “We’ve just seen a lot of each other because of my volunteer work for the foundation. He probably had some questions for me or something.”
Jake looked doubtful, but he didn’t press her, thank heaven.
Just then, her cell phone rang. “I need to grab this,” she told her brother. “It could be Jenny.”
But it wasn’t.
“Connie, it’s Thomas.”
To her surprise, he sounded charmingly nervous. “Hi,” she said softly, then moved away for some privacy. “I heard you came to town for Sunday dinner with your family.”
“Truthfully, I was hoping you’d be there,” he admitted.
“Was there something you needed? Did you want to go over the plans for the fundraiser on Saturday?”
He chuckled. “No, I’m confident that you and Shanna have that totally under control. Besides, Shanna was at lunch with Kevin, so if there had been any questions, I’m sure she could have answered them.”
“Oh, of course,” Connie said, flustered.
“What are you up to now?” he asked. “Are you busy? Do you feel like grabbing a cup of coffee or something before I head back to Annapolis?”
Connie looked at her filthy hands, the streaks of dirt on her clothes, the old sneakers she’d crammed her feet into when Jake had called. She’d barely combed her hair, and she didn’t have on so much as a dab of lipstick. If Thomas saw her now, she’d terrify him.
“Oh, Thomas, I’m a mess. I’ve been over here at the nursery helping Jake load some plants for a job.”
“How close are you to finishing?” he asked, clearly not intimidated by the image she’d painted of herself.
“Fifteen, twenty minutes at least,” she said.
“Then another pair of hands will make it go that much more quickly,” he said decisively. “See you shortly.”
He disconnected the call before she could protest. She wasn’t sure which was worse—having Thomas see her in such a sorry state or letting her brother get a glimpse of her swooning over the man.
She spent a full minute debating whether she could get into her office, clean up and change into the spare outfit she kept on hand for days when she wound up helping out in the nursery, rather than the office. Unfortunately, if she greeted Thomas wearing pristine clothes, he was bound to know she’d changed just for him. Never mind what Jake would have to say about it. She decided Thomas would just have to deal. This was who she was, at least some of the time.
“Who was that?” Jake called as he passed with two large plants.
She steadied her voice, then said in what she hoped was a casual tone, “Thomas. He’s on his way over.”
The five-gallon buckets landed in the truck with a thud. Jake walked back over, his gaze narrowed. “You want to tell me why he’s coming here?”
“To lend us a hand,” she said brightly.
“Really? We’re almost finished. Did you invite him to come?”
“No, I just told him what I was doing, and he offered to help. No big deal.”
Jake continued to look doubtful. When Thomas’s hybrid car turned into the parking lot, he frowned. “I’m missing something, aren’t I?”
“Not a thing,” she insisted. “Stop looking so suspicious and be grateful for the help. I’m sure he’d even pitch in on the job this afternoon, if you asked him to.”
“Will and Mack promised to meet me over there,” Jake said automatically. “You were awfully generous to be offering Thomas’s services, though. Is that because you’re nervous being around him?”
“Now you’re just being crazy,” she said, turning away so he wouldn’t see her cheeks burning. “Please hush, before you embarrass me.”
When Thomas emerged from his car, he was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, a far more casual outfit than he’d likely had on for Sunday dinner. The T-shirt emphasized his broad shoulders and his muscular arms. His was the kind of tanned, rugged fitness that men who worked out solely in a gym could never attain.
Though he glanced at Connie with a smile, he wisely focused on her brother. “Jake, tell me what you still need to load.”
“I’ll show you,” Connie said, leading him to the remaining plants for the job. “Just these. I told you we were almost through.”
“Then there will be time for that coffee,” Thomas assessed, picking up the large containers as if they weighed next to nothing.
The minute the truck was loaded, he asked Jake if he’d need a hand unloading at the job site.
“No, I’m good,” Jake said, though he couldn’t seem to stop frowning. “Thanks for the help.”
“No problem,” Thomas said.
“You should get going,” Connie told her brother. “You only have a few more hours of daylight to get started. You know Mr. Carlson will have a fit if he doesn’t see at least some progress today after all these delays for the weather.”
“Right,” Jake said, though he still appeared reluctant to leave.
When he’d finally driven off, Thomas turned to her. “Well, that went well, don’t you think?”
Connie laughed, despite her nervousness. “In what universe? My brother senses that there’s something going on with us. He’s not going to be happy until he figures out what it is.”
Thomas caught her gaze and held it. “Is there something going on with us?” he asked quietly. “Or am I the only one who feels anything?”
She wanted to deny it, to buy herself more time before committing to exploring these feelings that washed over her every time he was nearby.
She eventually drew in a deep breath, then said, “You’re not the only one.” She met his gaze. “You have to admit, though, that this is scary. Or is it just terrifying for me, because I haven’t dated anyone for years?”
“Oh, it’s terrifying,” he said with total sincerity. “Because I know even better than you the dangers of messing this up. The wrath of the entire family will come down on my head.”
“Not on mine?” she asked with a smile.
“I’m older. I’m a man. And everyone knows I’m a terrible risk. The blame will definitely be all mine.”
“If it’s going to be that dire, are you sure you want to risk it?” she asked, then gestured to herself. “Look at me. No makeup. Dirt from head to toe. The fashion sense of a tomboy. Am I worth it?”
Thomas didn’t seem to be the slightest bit put off by her description or her appearance. Instead, he took a step closer, tucked a finger under her chin and kissed her.
It wasn’t the smoldering kiss of two people wildly in love. It wasn’t a prelude to immediate, no-holds-barred sex. It was the gentle, tentative, exploratory kiss of a man trying to prove that his feelings were real, a man willing to wait for more.
When he stepped back, there was a smile on his lips and in his eyes. “Let’s go have that coffee, okay?”
“You have to at least give me fifteen minutes to clean up,” she pleaded. “I refuse to be seen with you in public looking like this. I’ll meet you at Sally’s or wherever you’d like to go.”
He seemed hesitant. “You won’t chicken out?”
“My knees may be knocking together and I may be second-guessing myself, but I’m no coward. I’ll be there,” she promised.
Thomas nodded. “That’s good enough for me. Don’t take too long, okay? I think you look great just the way you are.”
She peered at him intently. “Are you going blind or something?”
He laughed. “Nope. I swear to you I’m seeing more clearly than I have in years.”
After he’d gone, Connie raced back to her house instead of to the office. It took a bit longer than the fifteen minutes she’d promised, but the way Thomas’s eyes lit up when she walked into Sally’s told her the extra time had been worth it.
“Your coffee’s cold,” he said. “I’ll order another cup.”
Connie doubted she’d have noticed if it was colder than ice because suddenly the temperature in Sally’s felt like a hundred and ten. She tried to recall one single
date in her forty-plus years that had rattled her this badly. Maybe her first one with Sam years and years ago, but she doubted it.
Thomas was gazing at her intently. He leaned forward and confided, “I know we had dinner just a couple of weeks ago, but this feels more like a first date to me. I don’t think I was this nervous when I asked Mindy Jefferson to the eighth grade dance.”
Connie breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I thought it was just me.”
“It’s going to get easier,” he promised her.
“You think so?”
His gaze held hers. “We’ll just have to keep practicing until it does.”
A smile spread across her face. “I like the way you think, Thomas O’Brien.”
He reached across the table and clasped her hand. “Ditto, Connie Collins.”
She found the warm, work-roughened texture of his hand comforting. His grasp felt like a man’s. There was strength and reassurance and confidence in his grip, all traits that had been in short supply in her life with Sam, a man so selfish he’d left because he’d hated sharing her time with his own daughter.
“Tell me about your ex-husband,” Thomas said, still holding her hand in his. “What happened?”
“He’s hardly worth talking about,” she said.
“Is he still around?”
“No, he moved away not long after the divorce. He and Jenny barely have any relationship at all. My brother’s been more of a dad to her than Sam ever was.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. I don’t think I realized it was possible for anyone to not care about their own child. I probably should have paid more attention when he talked about not wanting kids, but I figured he was just scared.”
Thomas nodded. “I imagine most people are terrified before they take that step.”
“Would you be?”
Thomas looked startled by the question. “I used to think I wanted kids. Anybody being around my brothers and their families would envy them those connections. When I got divorced, though, I was glad there weren’t any children to be affected by it. I saw how awful it was for Mick’s kids when Megan left.”
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