A mixture of unease and curiosity settled in Eliza’s stomach. And despite the warning voice telling her to drop the subject, she persisted. “There’s obviously something on your mind. What is it?”
Sylvia shifted her weight, her expression strained. She took a deep breath and released it slowly, speaking in a low, gentle voice. “Sweetheart, whatever you’re holding on to, you have to let it go. You can’t use Ben as an excuse forever.”
At her mother’s words, all the air rushed from Eliza’s lungs, and she gripped the banister for support. How could her mother say that to her? A defensive retort rose in her throat, but Eliza chose to swallow the bitter irony, no matter how painfully it went down.
Holding back tears, she reminded herself that her mother didn’t know the whole story.
And if she did, Sylvia, of all people, would beg Eliza to keep her secret safe, and never,everlet it go.
* * *
Seated in the booth next to Luke, and across from Colt Davis and Reed Hollis, Grant couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to be home, surrounded by friends again. He could kick himself for waiting so long to reconnect.
“I still can’t believe you both decided to show your ugly mugs around town again.” A huge grin plastered across his face, Jack glanced from Grant to Colt as he set a steaming rack of ribs on the table. He lowered his lumbering frame into the tan leather booth, shoving Grant against Luke.
“Speaking of ugly mugs,” Colt lobbed back, nabbing a curly fry. “Did a wild animal attach itself to your face?”
Chuckling, Jack ran a hand over his scruffy beard. “Watch it, Davis. It’s not too late for me to tamper with your food. We’re still waiting on the onion rings.”
“Yeah.” Reed jabbed Colt in the shoulder. “Respect your elders, man. In Jack’s time, they learned to shave with the fang of a saber-toothed tiger.”
Grant joined in their laughter, realizing it had been ages since he’d laughed so hard. Even though he hadn’t seen the guys in years, some things never changed. Jack and Luke only had two years on them, but the old men jokes, ironically, never got old.
Gazing around the table, Grant marveled at how the four men had maintained such a strong friendship, yet couldn’t be more different.
Jack, with his large, hulking build and penchant for flannel, could have been a lumberjack if he didn’t already own the best restaurant in town. And although he doled out sarcasm as easily as barbecue sauce, he had the biggest heart and would do anything for a friend or stranger alike.
Out of the four, Grant had the most in common with Reed. Within the group, Reed could dish out the jokes with the best of them, but overall, he possessed a quieter spirit. Grant wasn’t surprised to learn he’d opened his own nursery, cultivating plants with an artistic flare Grant found instantly relatable.
Luke was… well,Luke. Similarly, as in their childhood, he had a calm, grounding effect on those around him. And seemed to be the linchpin holding everyone together.
Then there was Luke’s younger brother, Colt—Luke’s opposite in every way. And to be honest, Grant wasn’t sure how he felt about the guy.
Colt had been the quintessential high school heartthrob—quarterback of the football team, blond haired and blue eyed, with charm that oozed out of his pores. But besides being a romantic comedy cliché—right down to his ridiculous dimple—there was something about Colt that Grant didn’t trust.
“So,” Luke cut into Grant’s thoughts. “How long are you guys sticking around town? Are you leaving right after the wedding?”
Colt shrugged, reaching across the table to grab a rib dripping with Jack’s special barbecue sauce. “It depends.”
“On what?” Reed asked, helping himself after Colt.
Colt didn’t respond, merely wiggling his eyebrows as he tore into the meat like a caveman.
“It’s a woman.” Jack slapped his huge bear paw on the tabletop. “I knew it. You’ve been back less than twenty-four hours and you’ve already marked your prey.”
Colt chuckled, wiping a smear of sauce with the back of his hand.
Grant shifted as much as he could manage while sandwiched between the broad shoulders of Jack and Luke. He didn’t care for the turn the conversation had taken, although he couldn’t pinpoint the reason why.
“Who’s the unlucky victim?” Reed grinned, dunking a fry into a glob of ketchup before cramming the entire thing into his mouth.
“Eliza.”
The table went deathly silent, all eyes on Grant.
Grant blinked. What did Colt say? It sounded like he’d said “Eliza,” but that couldn’t be right. Grant tugged on his collar, uncomfortably warm all of a sudden.
Someone cleared their throat.
