by Lynn Shannon
His dark hair was short on the sides and top in typical military style. The rigid haircut suited the chiseled planes of his face. A faint scar caressed the curve of his jaw. His nose was slightly crooked, the effect of being broken a time or two, but it only added to his rugged masculinity.
And oh, his eyes. Gunmetal blue and piercing, they had the power to captivate.
Sara had always been immune to Grant’s good looks, but somehow that didn’t seem to be the case anymore. When had that happened?
Her hands tightened on the bakery box, and she had to remind herself not to crush it. Sara’s gaze darted around the vehicle, seeking a distraction. The dash was inlaid with a wood finish, and the stereo was state-of-the-art. “Nice SUV.”
He grinned, and the dimple in his right cheek flashed. “I spend so much of my time roughing it, I like to splurge when I’m stateside.”
That made sense. She sent up a prayer of thanks that he’d agreed to drive. Her Honda wasn’t only making a suspicious knocking sound, it smelled of french fries and tennis shoes.
Sara settled against the buttery soft seat. “The little league plays—”
“At Sam Hill Park. I know.” He pulled out of the library parking lot. “I spent an entire year as assistant coach, remember? It was my community service punishment for sneaking the goat into the principal’s office junior year.”
“Oh, that’s right. I’d forgotten. The coaching, not the goat. It’s impossible to forget that.”
They both laughed, and it almost felt like old times. Almost. If she could ignore the way her attention was drawn to his hands on the steering wheel. They were large and strong. Distinctly male. As were the muscles rippling along his arms.
Sara had a flashback to the feel of his biceps under her palms, the heat of his bare skin, and the gentle way he held her waist. Her heart skipped a beat, and her mouth felt dry. Goodness, why was it so hot in the car? She fiddled with the air vent.
“Is Coach Burns still in charge?” Grant turned down the heat a notch.
The fact that he was paying attention only increased her anxiety. “Y-y-yep.” Oh great. Now she was stuttering. Sara swallowed and took a deep breath. “Coach Burns is great with kids. Ben adores him.”
“He was great with me too. I ended up on his field because I was assigned to do community service as part of my punishment. But Coach Burns never made me feel bad about it. He put me to work and praised a job well done.” He slowed for a stop sign. “He’s the one who encouraged me to enter the military.”
“I didn’t know that. Well, he’ll be happy to see you.”
Grant parked on the edge of town next to the old Williams House. The Victorian had a sagging porch and a wild, overgrown garden. In the fading sunlight, it looked even more creepy. It was also haunted, if rumors were to be believed.
Sara shot a look at Grant. “Really?”
He laughed. “The park is a short walk from here. What’s the matter? Don’t want to go back to the scene of the crime?”
She scrambled from the vehicle and tossed her purse over her shoulder, careful to keep the bakery box straight. “I’m not scared of this place anymore. Although, how I let you talk me into coming here in the dead of night on Halloween, I still can’t understand.”
They’d been juniors in high school. Jared was supposed to have joined them, but he’d come down with the flu.
She whacked Grant gently on the arm with the back of her hand. It was like hitting a boulder. “And then you jumped out at me from the bushes wearing one of those hockey masks. I nearly had a heart attack and peed my pants.”
“I’ve never heard anyone scream so loud in my entire life.” He fell into step beside her as they crossed the park. “You didn’t talk to me for a week.”
“I should’ve made it a month.”
The little league field came into view. Pint-sized players dressed in uniforms ran the circumference. They were warming up. Coach Burns, his gut straining his polo shirt, clapped at the kids and encouraged them to hustle.
Sara spotted her little boy wearing the number ten jersey. His sandy-blonde hair was tousled, and his shoes muddy. She pointed. “There’s Ben.”
Grant stepped closer to the fence that separated the bleachers from the field. His hand came up to grasp the metal. “Sara, he’s the spitting image of Jared.”
His voice was wondrous, and something twisted perilously close to her heart. Suddenly, the reason for bringing him here made perfect sense. Somehow, someway, she’d sensed Grant needed to see Ben.
Sara drew closer to him. “I’ve always thought Ben looked like Jared, although I didn’t know him when he was young. I’ve compared photos, and the resemblance is striking. He’s a lot like Jared in personality too…” Grant didn’t seem to be listening, his gaze still on Ben. Sara touched his arm. “Are you okay?”
He glanced down at her, and there was a shimmer of tears in his eyes. “What? Oh, yeah. I’m okay. I…” He raked a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I thought it would hurt to see him, but it doesn’t. It feels good. Like—”
“Like there’s a piece of Jared still with us.”
He nodded. “Yeah. That.”
Someone called her name, and Sara glanced toward the bleachers to see her older sister waving. Rachel often picked up Ben and her own son, Michael, from school when she was off from work. As a nurse, her sister had a flexible schedule. The arrangement was a blessing and not one Sara took for granted. She was extremely lucky to have such a great sister.
Sara shifted the bakery box in her hands. “Rachel normally saves me a seat. Do you mind joining us over there?”
Grant shook his head. “Not at all. Let me say hi to Coach Burns real quick before the practice gets underway.”
“Of course. Take your time.”
The metal bleachers shook a bit under Sara as she climbed them. “Hey, Rachel. How’s it going?”
“I have no news. The boys were fine, blah, blah, blah.” Rachel’s gaze shot to Grant in the field. He was in deep conversation with Coach Burns. “Where on earth did you pick up Grant Edwards from? And how long have you guys been hanging out?”
Sara rolled her eyes. “Literally, half an hour. He’s in town visiting his mom and aunt.”
Rachel reached for the bakery box, but Sara batted her hand away. “Those are for the kids.”
“You didn’t bring an extra for me?”
Sara opened the box a bit, revealing Rachel’s favorite. A vanilla/chocolate swirl with strawberry icing. “Take it.”
“Aww, sis, you’re the best. Now spill the beans, and hurry before Grant comes over here.”
“There’s nothing to spill. Like I said, he’s in town visiting his mom and his aunt.”
Rachel peeled paper from the side of the cupcake. “Uh, huh. So I should completely ignore that tender moment I witnessed between the two of you?”
“Good grief, not you too. I already had Marie Jenkins at the library today trying to set me up with the junior high teacher.”
“I’m not trying to set you up. I’m saying there’s a spark between you and Grant. And you never have sparks with anyone.”
A flush crept up Sara’s cheeks. “That’s…that’s absurd. First of all, there’s no spark.”
“Trust me, sis, no man looks at you the way Grant does without there being a spark.”
Sara wasn’t touching that comment with a ten-foot pole. There was no winning the argument, even if she disagreed. Which she did. “And secondly, even if—and that’s a big if—I was going to date again, Grant Edwards is the last man I would pick.”
Rachel chewed her cupcake and nodded thoughtfully. “Oh yes. An extremely handsome Navy SEAL is every woman’s nightmare.”
She gaped at her sister. “He’s wrong for me in every way. He’s reckless.”
“Reformed. He’s a military man now. The navy doesn’t let them be reckless. Too many rules for that.”
Sara opened her mouth, then snapped it closed. Okay, Rachel had a point. Still…“He runs int
o dangerous situations.”
“To save lives,” her sister countered. “That makes Grant brave.”
“He’s spontaneous.”
“Adventurous.” Rachel pinned her with a look. “You could use a little adventure in your life. Some fun and a few dates wouldn’t hurt you. There’s no need to wear your widowhood and single-mother status like a shield.” She jutted her chin toward the field. “Don’t look now, but I think Grant has attracted some attention.”
Harmony Phillips stood next to the fence line. Her gaze was locked on Grant like a lion assessing its prey. A former cheerleader, Harmony had married the football star. They had two kids, one of which was Ben’s age, but unfortunately, the golden couple of Hidden Hollows High School didn’t last. The divorce had been finalized last year.
And from the looks of it, Harmony was on the prowl.
Sara suddenly wished she’d purchased an extra cupcake for herself. She dug through her purse for something with chocolate. “Why don’t the town busybodies find her a husband?”
Rachel barked out a laugh. “Do you really think she needs any help?”
No. Harmony was blonde, curvy, and vivacious. The former prom queen never lacked for admirers. Even Grant had dated Harmony for a while their junior year.
Sara yanked out a half-eaten bag of M&Ms from her purse. How long had they been there?
Out on the field, Harmony threw her arms around Grant. A burst of unexpected jealousy shot through Sara. She crumbled the bag of candies in her hand.
What was wrong with her? Grant was sinfully handsome. No doubt he had a trail of women following him wherever he went. He always had, and it’d never bothered Sara one bit before.
Rachel eyed her knowingly and took another bite of her cupcake.
Sara forced herself to loosen her hold on the candy. “I regret buying that cupcake for you now.”
Her sister smirked, taking another bite. “Too late.”
Down below, Grant disentangled himself from Harmony. They shared a few words, and the woman’s laugh carried on the wind. Harmony flipped her hair over her shoulder and placed a hand on Grant’s arm.
Oh, who cared how long the M&Ms had been in her bag? Sara opened them and dumped a bunch in her hand before tossing them into her mouth. She chewed furiously. The candy turned sour when Grant glanced in her direction. He headed up the bleachers, shaking the hands of a few neighbors that had recognized him.
Rachel tapped her arm, handing Sara a bottle of water with the cap already removed. She took a swig and started choking on the chocolate puddle in her throat.
A large hand landed on her back, giving her a solid whap. Sara swallowed. Tears stung her eyes, and she knew her face had to be bright red. Somewhere in the distance, above the roar of embarrassment in her ears and her coughs, she heard Rachel and Grant talking.
“Are you okay?” Grant rubbed Sara’s back.
His touch sent tingles running straight through her. This stupid attraction was extremely unsettling. Sara took another sip of water and swiped her cheeks. “Fine. I’m fine, thanks.”
“Listen, Coach Burns said his assistant is out sick today and asked if I would fill in.”
“That’s very nice of you, Grant.” Rachel handed him the bakery box of cupcakes. “Can you give these to the players once practice is over?”
“Sure thing. See you both after.”
He headed down the bleachers, and Sara couldn’t help but stare. The front of him was amazing, but the rear was something to behold. Grant’s shirt pulled along the muscles of his back. His soft jeans clung to his hips and—
“Oh yes,” Rachel interjected, cutting off Sara’s train of thought. “A hot Navy SEAL who is great with kids. Every. Woman’s. Worst. Nightmare.”
5
Sara
The next day, Sara wished she’d stayed in bed with the covers over her head. A bad morning had morphed into an awful afternoon.
She stopped outside the door leading to the mayor’s office to smooth a wrinkle in her skirt. Being called for an impromptu meeting with Mayor Stewart couldn’t be good, and nerves jittered in her stomach.
She took a deep breath and pushed open the door. Gentry, the mayor’s secretary, greeted her with a smile. “Hi, Sara. Thanks for coming so quickly. The mayor is on the phone with someone, but as soon as she’s finished, you’re next.”
“Great.” She cleared her throat. “A-A-any idea what she wants to discuss with me?”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing serious. You know how Genevieve is. She loves to check in with people from time to time.”
The mayor did like to do that. Sara exhaled. She’d worked herself up, probably over nothing.
Gentry eyed her speculatively. “Sara, dear, are you dating anyone? I have a friend with a grandson right around your age. He’s smart. Handsome. A firefighter.”
Oh, good night. Was she going to spend the rest of her life dodging well-meaning matchmakers? She was tempted to invent a fake boyfriend so they would all leave her alone.
She gave Gentry a tight smile. “It’s nice of you to think of me, but I’m not interested in dating anyone.”
Before the secretary could argue, Sara went over to the window. Dark clouds hung in the sky, threatening rain. The weather matched her mood.
Gentry’s question made Sara think of Grant, who was the last person she wanted to think about. After baseball practice yesterday, he barely said five words in a row. When Sara mentioned she could get a ride back to her car from Rachel, Grant had bolted from the field so fast he’d left scorch marks in the grass. How could he go from being so nice to being…well, not nice?
She snorted, thinking of Rachel’s comments. Spark, my foot. Grant didn’t see her as anything more than a friend. His late best friend’s wife.
Grant probably had a date to get to, and that’s why he’d said goodbye in such a rush. Maybe with Harmony, come to think of it. The woman had been cheering during baseball practice as though her life depended on it, and as Sara had loaded the kids in her sister’s car, she’d spotted Grant and Harmony talking.
So this ridiculous attraction—no, she wouldn’t even call it that. It was a momentary lapse in judgment, and it would pass as quickly as it came. Sara wasn’t interested in Grant. Not in the least.
Harmony Phillips could have him.
Sara had enough problems on her plate. This morning was a prime example. It’d started off in a frantic rush because she’d woken up late. As a result, Ben missed the bus. Sara forgot to grab his lunch and had to return home, fetch it, and then drive all the way back to the school. The faucet in her bathroom sink was leaking like a sieve, and the knocking in her car engine was getting louder.
Arriving at the library hadn’t improved things. Some teenagers had gone through the mystery paperbacks and completely disorganized it, requiring a reshelving of the whole section. The coffee maker in the break room broke, so the Coloring and Coffee event was a complete disaster. Sara had rummaged up some iced tea, but she could tell the patrons were disappointed.
The mayor’s inner office door opened. Genevieve Stewart appeared. Short and plump, her graying hair was tucked into a bun at the nape of her neck. Genevieve had a passion for Hidden Hollows and a love for any social function. She waved Sara into the inner office and gestured for her to take a seat.
“I’m sorry to call you in on such short notice, Sara, but I’ve been speaking with some of the city council members about your Celebration of Reading events. I’m trying to gauge how the wind is blowing regarding the funding vote coming up next month.”
Sara’s mouth went dry. The funding vote would make or break the library. “And?”
“Many of them aren’t convinced you’re doing enough to turn the library around.” Genevieve pulled out a copy of the Celebration of Reading events flyer. She tapped a finger on the party at the end of September. “You need to think bigger when it comes to the final event. I’m talking about food, entertainment, the whole shebang. Make a splash.”
Sara nodded hollowly. There was barely enough money in the library’s bank account to keep the lights on and pay her employee. How on earth was she going to get entertainment and catering?
“I also believe cancelling any events would be unwise,” Genevieve continued. “I received your email about the after-school program.”
“Th-th-the—” Sara took a deep breath and willed herself to stop stuttering. “The woman I hired canceled on me this morning, and my assistant librarian is eight months pregnant. There’s no one to run it.”
Sara could assist the person, but she couldn’t run the program herself. As head librarian, she had to be available to help additional patrons.
The mayor nodded sympathetically. “It’s a rotten set of circumstances, but you need to find someone.”
There was no one. Sara had tried to recruit teachers from the school, she’d put an ad in the paper, and posted signs on the library doors. The applicants had been slim, and her best—and really only—acceptable one had quit before she’d even begun.
Sara’s hands trembled. She pressed them into the chair. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll find someone to take over the after-school program.”
The mayor rose, indicating the meeting was over. Sara followed suit, and somehow, her legs kept her upright.
Genevieve escorted her to the door. “I have faith in you, Sara. Your grandmother’s legacy is in good hands, and I know you can save it. Keep all the events, make a big party at the end, and I’ll do my part to convince the city council to continue funding the library.”
Sara was sure she responded with pleasantries, but for the life of her, couldn’t remember what they were. She stumbled out of the mayor’s office and into the overcast afternoon. Her heart was pounding. Panic welled up, and tears pricked the back of her eyes.
It always seems impossible until it’s done.
Nana’s favorite quote rippled through Sara’s mind. She drew in a deep breath and tamped down on the emotions threatening to spiral out of control. They wouldn’t help her. She needed to think.
Sara went across the street to the coffee shop and ordered a large mocha latte. Drink in hand, she started walking toward the library. The party was two weeks away and too big to contemplate at the moment. She needed to tackle one issue at a time. The most immediate problem was the after-school program.