by Lynn Shannon
He plugged in the coffee maker. Her attention was once again drawn to his strong hands. She’d never noticed a man’s hands before, but Sara was beginning to wonder if it was some kind of weird obsession. Or if it was just a Grant thing.
He turned and leaned against the counter. “Oh, while we have a minute, I wanted to talk about your car. The water pump is busted. I can fix it for you this afternoon, provided the part is in stock and doesn’t have to be ordered.”
“You’ll have to go to the next town for parts. There’s no mechanic in Hidden Hollows.”
His brows arched. “No one’s running my dad’s old shop?”
“Closed down last year. The man who owned it—Mr. Howard—retired. No one has bought the business from him yet. I’m surprised your mom didn’t tell you.”
He shook his head, a funny expression on his face. A mix of shock and grief, and Sara felt bad for springing the news on him. Grant and his father had been incredibly close. Maybe that’s why his mother hadn’t told him. Perhaps the subject was too painful.
“I don’t want to put you out, Grant. You’re already doing so much by helping with the after-school program, and you fixed my sink yesterday.” She edged closer. “Ben thinks you hung the moon, by the way. He gave me a play-by-play about how you let him help repair the faucet last night.”
“He’s a great kid, Sara. You’ve done an amazing job with him.” He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I don’t mind fixing your car or helping out. Honestly. I meant what I said yesterday. The issue is mine to deal with.”
“That’s not exactly true.” Her heart pounded in her chest, and the butterflies in her stomach took flight. “I’m attracted to you too, Grant.”
Grant stiffened, and his brow creased as he scanned her face. “Since when?”
“Since you arrived in town. I was trying to figure out how to tell you yesterday, but you cut the conversation short. And the truth is, I don’t want to screw up our friendship either.”
He turned away and took a couple of steps across the break room before spinning back to face her. “So where does that leave us?”
“In a more honest place, for starters.” She let out a breath. “Here’s the thing. You’re not going to be in town for long, so there’s no place for this to go. A serious relationship is out of the question.”
He nodded. “I agree.”
She wrapped her arms across her midsection. “The truth is, Grant, a part of me would like to move on and date someone new. I loved Jared with everything I had, and his death wrecked me. If he were alive now, I have no doubt that we’d still be happily married. But he’s not and…”
Unexpected tears burned the back of her eyes. She blinked them back and swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I think about spending the rest of my life alone, and it’s depressing. It’s not what Jared would want for me, but I also don’t know how to take that first step forward.”
She felt rather than saw Grant come up next to her. Her skin prickled with the nearness. She didn’t dare look at him. Instead, she kept her gaze locked on the counter.
“What are you asking for, Sara?”
“I don’t know exactly.” Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. This was a lot harder to say out loud than it had been in her head. “A friendship with flirting? Nothing serious or complicated. Just two friends who like hanging out and having fun together.”
Grant reached up and hooked a finger under her chin. He lifted her face until she was looking into his eyes. Buried in those familiar blue depths was a completely foreign emotion, something Sara had never seen when Grant looked at her. Until now.
Desire.
His lips curved into a devastating smile. “Friends with flirting, huh?
“Y-y-yeah. Something like that.” She leaned into his touch. “You’d be saving me a world of trouble. Every busybody in town has been trying to set me up for the last two years.”
He chuckled. “Fix your sink, repair your car, help you save the library, and be your fake boyfriend.”
“I’m asking a lot, I know.”
His thumb caressed the curve of her jaw. “I’m not complaining.”
His voice was low and husky. It twisted Sara’s insides in mysteriously pleasant ways, and the heat of his touch seemed to sear straight through her.
Grant dropped his hand and took a step back, grabbing the bakery box off the counter. “I’ll take these to the conference room.”
She swallowed hard. “Thanks.”
Sara watched him walk out and then pressed a hand to her chest. Talk about swoony. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, and Grant had barely touched her. But it didn’t leave her feeling weird or guilty. It was…fun. And exciting.
She hadn’t felt attractive or desired in ages. It was wonderful.
Yes, she could do this. Be fun and flirty, like the characters from her beloved romance novels, the kind of woman Sara always wanted to be. With Grant, it could happen, and there was no chance she would get broken-hearted.
No chance at all.
8
Grant
Grant wiped his greasy hands on a rag and slipped into the driver’s seat of Sara’s car. He turned the ignition, and the engine purred to life. “Yeah, baby.”
He got out and made sure everything under the hood was running properly. He’d not only repaired the vehicle but done a full service as well. Initially, it’d been to help out Sara, but the dirtier Grant’s hands got, the more he realized how much he missed working on cars. There was a simplicity to it. See a problem, fix it. Job well done.
Working as a SEAL was a bit more nebulous and complicated. Lives hung in the balance, and the weight of that had the ability to crush a man over time.
Grant sometimes wondered if it was crushing him. A decade of war zones and high-risk missions had changed him. Forever. Nightmares haunted him, and flashbacks happened on occasion. His back ached from carrying heavy packs and joint pain was more common. While he was proud of his service, Grant also worried his body was giving him warning signs, letting him know that quitting was inevitable.
“You got it running,” Aunt Suzie said, coming up the driveway. She had a shawl draped over her shoulders and carried a bottle of water. She offered it to him.
“I did.” He straightened and accepted the water. He broke the seal and took a long drink. “Thanks.”
“How did the after-school program go?”
“Better than I thought.” His mouth twitched. “The kids had a great time with the superhero theme and the scavenger hunt. There’s another one on Friday. We’re going to talk about outer space. Knowing Sara, she’s going to make me wear a planet on my head or something.”
Aunt Suzie laughed. “It’s good you’re helping her out.” She patted his arm. “I’m going to check on your mom. Any progress?”
Grant glanced at the house, his heart sinking. “None. She yelled at me this morning when I broached the subject of therapy. And she refused to let me take out the trash.”
“I know this is hard for you, honey, but things have taken a dramatic turn in the last
several months. The house…it’s not safe for her to live like that. Some of the exits are blocked off. There could be a fire, and she wouldn’t be able to escape. Maybe it’s time to file for a medical power of attorney and then force her into getting help—”
“No. Absolutely not.”
His tone came out sharper than he intended. This wasn’t his aunt’s fault. In fact, Grant owed her a great deal of gratitude. She’d been the one taking care of his mom while he was in the navy.
But take the choice away from Mom? Force her into treatment? Every single thing Pop instilled in him rebelled against that notion.
You need to protect your mother. Always.
Grant took a deep breath. “I will handle it. You’ve been patient, and I truly appreciate it. Give me a bit more time. I’ll get through to her.”
Suzie’s mouth tightened, and it appeared she wanted to argue with him, but then
she sighed and nodded. She glanced at the Honda. “Is Sara coming to get her car?”
“In a little bit. She’s catching a ride with someone from work.” He swiped at a greasy spot on his pinky. “Aunt Suzie, I won’t be home for dinner tonight. Sara invited me to eat with her and Ben.”
His aunt smiled. “That’s fine, dear. Have a good time.”
“Thanks.”
She adjusted the shawl around her shoulders and gave his arm one last pat before heading up the walkway. Aunt Suzie hesitated a brief moment before going inside, as if she was shoring up her emotions. It was a feeling Grant related to. He did exactly the same thing every time he entered his mom’s house.
He picked up the tools from the ground and went into the garage. The radio in the corner played a soft country station—exactly the one Pop had always tuned in to. Grant cleaned the tools carefully, placing them back precisely where they belonged. It’d been strange to use them again, but not as painful as he expected.
It reminded him of the first time he saw Ben at the baseball field. Grant had expected it to level him. Instead, it’d taken the sharp edge off his grief.
The classic truck seemed to call him over, and Grant pulled back the tarp from the front of the vehicle.
This was supposed to have been his first car. Pop’s words rang in his head.
If you have to build it from scratch, you’ll respect it more.
Pop had a way of hitting lessons home without being preachy. Simple and effective. And also true. Grant had poured hours into rebuilding the truck, side-by-side with his father.
Pop died before they could finish it, and until two days ago, Grant hadn’t been able to step foot inside the garage. His first vehicle had been a pitiful Ford. Barely more than a hunk of rusted metal on wheels held together by Duct tape. It’d been all he could afford after a summer working three jobs.
Heels clicked against concrete. Grant lifted his head, and his heart skipped a beat. Sara strolled toward him, and when their eyes met, she smiled. A blush crept up her cheeks, and he drank it in. She had a natural beauty that made him forget his own name.
Their conversation from earlier had played over and over again in his mind for the rest of the day. Friends who flirt. It was something Grant could get behind. It enabled him to relax around Sara, because he wasn’t constantly calculating every move.
Learning she found him attractive too was a dream come true. The relationship couldn’t go anywhere. That he knew for certain. But Grant was going to enjoy every minute while it lasted.
These memories would be all he had once he returned to his SEAL team. They would have to sustain him through war zones and difficult missions.
Memories, and the cards he collected from Sara’s care packages.
Sara smiled. “Hey, are you thinking about finishing the truck?”
Grant shrugged. “Even if I wanted to, it needs weeks of work. I don’t have that kind of time.”
She edged closer, and he caught a whiff of her springtime scent. A strand of hair had curled around her hoop earring, and Grant was tempted to free it.
“Nothing is preventing you from at least starting. You can do it in bits and pieces.” She studied his expression. “But something tells me you already know that. So what’s really holding you back?”
He hesitated. Telling Sara the truth about his attraction for her unlocked something inside Grant. It made him realize how good it was to finally put words to his emotions. To share them with someone else.
He wasn’t sure if this would be the same, but it was worth trying.
“How do you do it, Sara? Work in the library your grandmother built, live in the house you bought with Jared, stay in Hidden Hollows surrounded by all the ghosts and memories?” Grant pulled the tarp back more, revealing the entire front end of the vehicle. “I look at this, and all I see is my dad. It’s hard to imagine the truck finished and Pop not here—”
His voice choked off, a wave of grief welling up and closing his throat.
She came next to him, close enough to wrap her arm around his waist and rest her head on his arm. The touch was comforting and gentle, and it soothed something inside him to have her close.
“Of course, it hurts. Grief is supposed to when you love someone deeply. And I don’t promise that the wound on your heart will ever heal, but it does get easier.” She sighed, long and low. “For me, personally, it would be far worse to pretend Nana and Jared had never existed. To not think about them, or tell funny stories about them, or touch and care for the things they loved. Working at the library eases my grief. It doesn't make it worse.”
He covered her hand with his own. “So you’re saying I should finish the truck to honor Pop’s memory?”
“In a way. But also because it will help you heal. This truck can serve as a reminder of the love you shared with each other. Something tangible you can touch and talk about.”
He’d never thought about it that way. Would it work for him? He didn’t know, but it was something to consider. Grant took a deep breath. “Sorry. That was a bit deep, considering you came to pick up your car.”
“I don’t mind.” She squeezed his waist before letting him go and backing away. “That’s what friends are for.”
“Maybe, but we’re supposed to be flirting friends.”
She blushed. “Oh, good night, you are never going to let me live that down.”
“Nope. Not after Jennie took several photographs of me this afternoon. I certainly hope I looked manly in my superhero outfit, complete with a teeny-tiny cape and crayon-colored mask.”
Sara laughed, then tried to keep a straight face as she nodded. “Yes, you absolutely looked manly. Very tough. The other SEALs on your team would be quaking in their boots, if they’d seen you.”
He pointed a finger at her. “You breathe a word of this to anyone on my SEAL team, and I’ll buy Ben a drum set.”
She moved closer, her mock glare playful and adorable. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, yes, I would.” He lowered a shoulder, tucking it into her waist, and before she could react, he picked her up. Grant wrapped one arm around her legs to keep them from flying over his shoulder.
Sara kicked her feet and squealed. “Put me down, you oaf.”
“Promise me. Promise those photographs will stay in Hidden Hollows.”
“They’re electronic, and Jennie already put them up on the library website.” She pounded on his back with her fists. It was like being beaten by a fly. “You’re too late!”
He heaved a huge sigh and set Sara on her feet. She was laughing, her cheeks a deep pink and her smile broad. Grant loved seeing her happy. Loved making her happy.
“Foiled again by your brains.” He swept a hand over her hair, repairing the damage his horseplay had caused. “And your beauty.”
Her breath hitched. “You’re a sweet-talker, Edwards.”
“I have to be. You’re making me dinner.”
They both laughed. Grant brought Sara over to her car and explained the repairs he’d made. When he was done, she let out a breath. “Thank you so much, Grant. This would be the worst possible time to be without a car. Not only because of Ben, and school, and his activities, but also because of the Celebration of Reading. I still have the party to organize for next week.”
“How’s that going?”
“Disaster. Jennie and I spoke to dozens of caterers and restaurants, but everything is far more than we can afford. And we haven’t touched entertainment yet.” She frowned. “I have no idea what to do.”
“I was thinking about it while repairing your car, and I had an idea.” Actually, Grant had several, but he wasn’t sure if the band was going to pan out, so he didn’t want to discuss it yet.
“I’m all ears,” Sara said.
“What if you went to local businesses and asked them to sponsor the party? Tell them the city council is threatening to cut the library’s funding. The town loved your grandmother, and they are passionate about the library.”<
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“If they find out we’re in danger of closing our doors, they’ll pitch in to help us.” Sara bounced on the balls of her feet. “Maybe even give us things at cost, in exchange for a signage at the party.”
“Exactly.”
She nodded. “That’s a good idea. No, scratch that, it’s a terrific idea. It’ll mean swallowing my pride and telling everyone how much trouble I’m in, but that’s small potatoes if it helps save the library.”
Sara reached up and kissed his cheek quickly. Just a faint brush of her lips, soft as a butterfly’s wing, but it kicked Grant’s heart into overdrive.
She backed away quickly, a shy smile on her face. “You aren’t just a smooth talker, Edwards. You’re also a genius.”
“Well, I don’t know about genius…” He cocked his head, as if in thought. “Nope, I take that back. I am a genius. It’s about time you noticed.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m never paying you a compliment again. Your ego is too big as it is.”
He flexed his bicep. “Goes with my muscles.”
She groaned, but the prettiest blush colored her cheeks. “I’m not even going there.” Sara headed for the driver’s side door, shaking her head. “You’re terrible. Absolutely terrible.”
He chuckled. “Give me twenty minutes to take a shower, and then I’ll be over for dinner. Need me to bring anything?”
“Nope.” She pulled open the car door and flashed him a sweet smile. “It’s my turn to take care of you.”
She hopped in her Honda and drove off. Grant watched her taillights fade, a stillness settling over him. It’d been a long time since he’d laughed this much. Sara wasn’t the only one who’d been missing out on having fun.
He glanced at his mother’s house. The after-school program and his friendship with Sara were great distractions, but Grant couldn’t forget the reason he was in town. His mom needed help. He raised his eyes to the sky. “Tell me what to do, Pop. How do I reach her?”
Grant went back up the driveway and hit the button to close the garage. He waited while the metal door rumbled down. Maybe taking Sara’s advice would give him some clarity. He’d spent so long shoving the memories down, refusing to think about them, and avoiding any connection to them. But where had that gotten him? The grief was still raw.