by Lynn Shannon
Who on earth could she get to run it? Only one name came to mind. Grant.
She winced, thinking of the way he bailed on them after baseball practice. It would be easier to find someone else, but there was no one else. The first program was tomorrow afternoon. Grant was good with kids, and he was in town on vacation. At the very least, maybe he could do one or two programs to buy her time to find someone new.
Would Grant be willing to do it? There was only one way to find out.
Sara downed the last of her coffee and raced inside the library to grab her purse and keys.
Jennie was stationed behind the front desk and lifted a stack of messages. “These are the complaints from the Coffee and Coloring event today. We’ve got to do something about the coffee maker.”
Another problem to solve. Sara nodded. “We will. I’ll handle it when I get back. I’m going to run an errand and pick Ben up from school. Be back in a flash.”
The wind fluttered Sara’s hair as she crossed the parking lot. Rain was definitely coming.
Sara slid into the front seat of her Honda. “Come on, baby, come on.” She turned the ignition. The car rumbled to life, and she kissed the steering wheel. “Thank you.”
It took ten minutes to drive to the Edwards’ home. The curb was taken up by parked cars, so Sara pulled into the driveway next to a small SUV. Not Grant’s. It was his mother’s, and it appeared several of the tires were low on air. The vehicle was also covered with dust.
The house looked run-down as well. The wood was chipped around the door, and paint peeled on the porch. All of the flowerbeds had been overrun with weeds. Hadn’t Grant told her yesterday that his mom was redecorating? Maybe he only meant the inside of the house.
Sara killed her engine, and the vehicle gave a final shudder before going silent. She sent up a silent prayer that it would start again and then got out.
The garage door was open, but no one was inside. Unlike the house and the SUV in the driveway, the inside of the garage was immaculate. Tools were lined up neatly on pegboards. Clear organizational drawers for screws, nuts, and bolts sat on the workbench. The concrete was swept. Another vehicle sat on the left-hand side, concealed under a tarp.
Sara went up the cracked walkway to the front porch. Someone called her name, and she turned. Grant hurried across the street from his aunt’s house. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that strained across his broad chest. A baseball cap covered his hair, but nothing could disguise his thunderous expression.
Sara had no idea what would cause Grant to be so angry. She went down the porch steps. “Hey.”
“What are you doing?” Grant stopped in front of her, his gaze shooting to the house before focusing back on her. “I asked you a question.”
Actually, he’d barked it, and she didn’t appreciate his tone. This conversation was not off to a good start. Sara squared her shoulders. “I came to see you.”
“Without calling first?”
Okay, she hadn’t called before showing up on his doorstep, but it wasn’t uncommon in Hidden Hollows for friends to pop over unannounced. Then again, Grant had been gone for a long time. Sara licked her lips. “Sorry. I didn’t think you would mind.”
“Well, I do.” Grant glared, his stance broad. “Don’t come over here, ever, without calling first to let me know.”
Wow, okay, he was being a real jerk. Sara took a deep breath to tamp down the anger rising in her. “Noted.”
Lightning flashed, and the sky opened up. Rain pelted Sara, instantly soaking her hair and shoulders. Grant grabbed her wrist, his grip firm and warm. He broke into a jog, pulling her along the walkway with him, into the protection of the garage.
Inside, he released her. Sara shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. “I knew it was going to rain, but I didn’t think it would go from zero to a hundred.”
Grant went over to the workbench and ripped off some paper towels. “They’re clean.”
“Thanks.” She wiped the water from her face and wrung out her hair. Water dropped onto the concrete.
Sara tried not to notice how Grant’s dampened T-shirt clung to the muscles on his biceps, but it proved difficult. He leaned against the workbench and crossed his arms over his chest. That only made his biceps flex. The poor sleeves were going to rip off like some bizarre, real version of the hulk.
No, no, no. She was not here to study his muscles or worry about his sleeves.
Sara tore her gaze away. It settled on the vehicle covered by a tarp. She touched it. “Is this the truck you were building with your dad?”
Grant nodded, and his mouth tightened into a flat line. She pushed a corner of the tarp aside, revealing the open hood of the classic truck. Bits and pieces were assembled, but it was missing a lot. “You never thought about finishing it?”
He released a long breath. “I didn’t know it was still here until this morning. After my dad died, I never came in the garage. When I left for the navy, I figured Mom had gotten rid of it.”
“Maybe she was holding on to it for you.”
Grant glanced at the nearby toolbox. “I doubt it. I don’t think Mom’s been in the garage since Pop died either.”
That was a strange way of phrasing things. Sara tilted her head. “How do you know? Is that what she said?”
“Yeah.” His voice was tight. “That’s what she said.”
Sara had the vaguest impression Grant was lying to her, but she couldn’t figure out why on earth he would do so. “Is everything okay, Grant? I know we don’t talk all the time, but if there’s something you need—”
“I don’t need anything.” Grant turned and ripped off some paper towels. He swiped at an invisible spot of dirt on the workbench. “What are you doing here, Sara?”
Her hand tightened on the tarp as a sudden batch of butterflies rocked her stomach. “I-I-I came to ask you for a favor.”
Don’t stutter. She took a deep breath. The rain outside pelted the roof of the garage, making the silence even louder.
“What kind of favor?” Grant asked.
He was still turned away from her, and that was almost as difficult to take as the hardness in his voice. She released her death grip on the tarp and closed the distance between them. Sara leaned on the bench. “I need someone to run the after-school program at the library, and I was hoping you would do it.”
He laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“G-G-Grant, I’m serious.”
His head jerked up, and his eyes widened. Before he could speak, she held up her hands. “Hear me out. The woman I hired quit on me suddenly, and I can’t cancel the program. It would only be temporary until I could find a replacement.”
“Forget it. Sara, I’m trained to handle MR-15s, not a bunch of five-year-olds.”
“But you’re great with kids.” She moved closer. “All of them loved you yesterday at the baseball practice.”
“That was one practice, one time. I already have a job as a SEAL. Find someone else.”
“There is no one else.” She heard the pleading note in her voice but couldn’t manage to prevent it. “Please, Grant. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need the help.”
He closed his eyes and crumpled the paper towels in his hands. Sara had no idea what he was thinking. There had been a time she could read Grant’s expressions like a book, but the military must’ve taught him how to keep his face hard.
Grant sighed. “No, Sara. I’m not the right person to help you.”
Tears pricked the back of her eyes, and Sara bit her lip to keep them back. It was time to swallow her pride. She needed to explain the entire truth, no matter how humiliating it was. Grant didn’t realize how bad the trouble was, nor did he know the library was in danger of being shut down.
“Grant—”
“It’s not going to happen, Sara.” He marched over to the other side of the garage and tossed the paper towels in the trash. “Save your breath. There’s nothing you can say that would convince me.”
His tone was
caustic. Sara ducked her head, unable to keep the tears from falling. For the first time in her life, she was grateful for thick, curly hair. It provided a curtain between her and Grant.
She needed to get out of there.
Sara took a step, then another. The walk turned into a run. She raced past Grant into the
cold rain, letting it mingle on her face with her tears.
6
Grant
It took everything inside Grant to let Sara go. His heart thundered in his chest, and his hands were clammy. He wanted to race after her and take every harsh word back.
But he couldn’t. Yesterday, he’d made the vow to keep his distance. Being around Sara and Ben was too difficult and made him want things that weren’t possible. His mission was to come to town, get his mom into treatment, and then return to his SEAL team where he belonged.
Yes, it was better this way. Even if it made him a world-class jerk.
Grant listened past the rain but didn’t hear Sara’s car start. He waited. One minute stretched into three. What was she doing?
Grant spun on his heel. He went over to the standing toolbox and retrieved an umbrella. The downpour was shifting into a drizzle. His boots sloshed through the water running down the driveway to the street.
Sara was sitting in her car. Her arms were crossed over the steering wheel, her head nestled between them. Grant rapped on the window.
She jerked, then lifted her face. Grant’s gut clenched. Oh, man, she’d been crying. He’d made her cry. If Pop were here now, he’d give Grant a stern dressing down. And he’d deserve every word.
Staring out the windshield, her jaw hard, Sara lowered the window a crack. He leaned in closer. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t get my car to start.”
Fan-ta-stic. Grant’s hand tightened on the handle of the umbrella. “Pop the hood.”
Her mouth flattened into a hard line, and a muscle in her jaw clenched, but otherwise Sara didn’t move. Grant sighed. “Do you want to get out of here or not? Pop the hood.”
She reached under the dash, and the hood clicked open. Grant circled the vehicle and did a balancing act to get the hood propped up while holding the umbrella. Rainwater dripped on the back of his shirt as he examined the car.
Sara appeared at his side holding her own umbrella. Her hair was still damp from the rain, and it curled around her beautiful face. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Looks like your water pump is broken. Maybe something else as well, but I can’t be sure without doing a deeper inspection. Either way, the car isn’t going anywhere.” He straightened. “I’ll give you a lift back to the library.”
“I’m not going back to the library. At least, not right away. I have to be at the elementary school in twenty minutes to pick up Ben.” She stomped her foot, and water splashed her ankle. “Ooooo, and my sister is working at the hospital today. This is the worst day ever. Ever.”
He couldn’t agree more. “I’ll take you to pick up Ben and then to the library or anywhere else you need to go.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Why would you want to help me? You made it perfectly clear back there how you feel. In fact, there are a few, not-so-very-nice names I’d like to call you.”
“And they’d all be true.”
More than Sara realized. Grant was a failure and a screw-up. The military had changed him, but nothing could fix his fundamental personality. He broke promises and let down the people who loved him. Like Pop.
You need to protect your mother, always. Take care of her. Promise me.
Grant glanced at the house. What was Mom doing now? This morning she’d stared blankly at the television and completely ignored Grant. It killed him to see his mother trapped in her own mind, in a dark place he couldn’t reach.
He focused back on Sara. “I’m helping because it makes zero sense to leave Ben sitting at school when I can give you a lift. Let’s go. My SUV is across the street at Aunt Suzie’s house.”
Sara stood there for a moment seeming to wrestle with the options but finally decided to let logic win over her emotions. She wrenched open the driver’s side door of her Honda, reached in, and unearthed her purse.
Slinging the ridiculously large bag over her shoulder, she headed across the street. Grant followed. He caught a whiff of her springtime scent, and his heart skipped a beat.
Distance. This is why he needed distance.
He fished the fob out of his pocket and hit the button. His SUV beeped. Grant widened his steps, overtaking Sara and opening the passenger side door for her. She glared at him. “I’m capable of opening my own doors.”
“I’m aware.”
She closed her umbrella and hopped into the SUV with a huff. He circled the vehicle and got inside. While pulling out of the driveway, he adjusted the heat to high and turned on the heated seats. Sara’s bare arms were covered in goose bumps from being cold and wet.
Sara’s fingers drummed on the door panel. They stopped suddenly, and she frowned. “Why is your SUV parked at your aunt’s house? Aren’t you staying with your mom?”
Leave it to Sara to notice, even as ticked off as she was. Grant kept his tone casual. “My trip home was unexpected, and Mom turned the guest bedroom into storage, so it was just easier to stay with Aunt Suzie.”
Half-truths. His life was full of lies and half-truths.
Sara narrowed her gaze but didn’t say anything more for the next fifteen minutes. Grant intended to keep his eyes on the road, but his attention kept being drawn to Sara. The long line of her leg, the curve of her cheek, the bow of her lip.
Every part of him was aware of every bit of her. The tense line of her shoulders and the way she gripped the door handle transmitted her anger. At some point, it morphed into worry. Sara’s back curved inward, and she sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth.
It was torture. He wanted to ask her what was wrong. Was it just the library program? Or was there more to it? But after his bone-headed move in his garage, Grant didn’t really have the right. Nor did he trust himself to make things better instead of worse.
The elementary school appeared. He joined the line of cars snaking through the carpool lane. The rain had finally stopped.
Several teachers were directing the children. Sara pointed to one. “Please stop up there.”
Grant did, and Sara hopped out. Ben ran to his mom, throwing himself into her arms, and Sara kissed his head. The love and exuberance between them squeezed Grant’s chest tight. Sara had replaced the worry in her expression for a bright smile.
Another little boy joined Sara and Ben, this one with darker hair. Grant recognized him from baseball practice. It was Michael, Rachel’s son and Sara’s nephew.
Sara kissed Michael too. Then she opened the back door to the SUV. “Hop in, guys.”
“Coach Grant.” Ben gave him a wide grin and offered him a high-five. “Awesome. I didn’t know you were picking us up from school today.”
“Hey, Ben.” Grant reached back and smacked his hand. “You don’t have to call me Coach Grant, you know. That was only for practice.”
The little boy paused. “Do you not like it?”
Grant considered the question. He didn’t mind being called Coach Grant. It was a little like being an uncle without the official title. “No, I don’t mind. Keep calling me Coach Grant.” He fist-bumped Sara’s nephew. “Hey, Michael.”
The next few minutes were spent making sure the kids were strapped into their seat belts correctly, then Grant pulled away from the curb. “Where to?”
“My house, first. The boys have a sitter who comes and watches them until everyone gets off work.” Sara typed something in her cell phone. “I’m letting Mrs. Lyons know we’re on our way home and that we got a lift from a friend. Otherwise, she might see a strange car and worry.”
Grant asked Sara for her address, since he’d never been to her house before, and plugged it into his GPS. The boys were laughing in the backseat about something, but he couldn’t make
out what.
Sara twisted around to face the backseat. “How was school today?”
“It was fine.” Ben wrinkled his nose. “Except you packed apple slices in my lunch. Mom, I hate them.”
She frowned. “Since when?”
“Since yesterday.”
Grant smothered a laugh and flipped on his blinker. He glanced in the rearview mirror. Ben had a riot of curly hair, like Sara, but the rest of his features were all Jared, right down to the hazel eyes and dimple in his chin.
The light changed. Grant took a left turn. “Hey, Ben, what about the joke I shared with you yesterday during baseball practice? Did you tell your friends?”
“Oh yeah, and they loved it.” He bounced in his seat. “Mom, did I tell you the joke?”
“Umm, I don’t think so.” Sara tapped her chin with a finger as if in thought, before dropping her hand. “You must’ve forgotten. Go ahead and tell me.”
Grant could tell she’d already heard it several times, but she was going to let Ben tell her again because it made him happy. Sara was an awesome mom.
He glanced in the rearview mirror. Ben’s face was lit up with excitement.
“What did one eye say to the other eye?” Ben’s grin widened, and he bounced in the seat again.
Sara shrugged. “I don’t know. What?”
“Between us, something smells.”
The two boys dissolved into giggles, and their laughter was infectious. Grant chuckled, and beside him, Sara did the same. She shook her head. “You’re very funny, Ben. No wonder all your friends loved that joke.”
Her phone beeped with a notification, and Sara’s eyes widened. “Oh, no. Mrs. Lyons arrived, and my downstairs bathroom sink is spraying water.”
Grant turned into Sara’s driveway. Her home was a beautiful two-story ranch style, with a front porch swing and blue shutters. He shoved the vehicle into park and got out, popping open the back hatch to grab a toolbox.