Eliza ended the night thankful Colt had insisted on their “non-date.” If only because it confirmed, once and for all, that they had no future together.
Not only had she spent the entire evening at the Buttercup Bistro wishing she’d shared the plate of chili lime sweet potato fries with Grant, Colt seemed every bit as impulsive and irresponsible as Penny claimed.
In the years since high school, he’d lived in five different cities and had dozens of jobs ranging from skydiving instructor to exotic car salesman. He had a pilot’s license, but rarely flew. Learned French, but never spoke a word. Spent a year in culinary school, but didn’t cook.
The man was an enigma. And one Eliza had zero interest in figuring out.
Ben needed stability. For his sake, she couldn’t fall for anyone who didn’t have plans to stay in Poppy Creek. A rule that extended to San Francisco–based web designers, too….
Colt rolled to a stop beside Eliza’s Honda in the driveway and killed the engine.
Eliza suppressed a groan, dreading the awkward goodbye.
Colt reached for the door handle.
“You don’t have to walk me inside.” Eliza hastily unbuckled her seat belt.
“This may not be a date, but I’m not a monster,” Colt laughed, striding around the car to open the passenger door for her.
Her heart thrumming nervously, Eliza trudged beside him to the front porch.
The bistro lights shimmering overhead lit their path, a strong breeze swinging the strands back and forth creating curious shadows across the brick walkway. Eliza shivered, wishing she’d thought to bring a lightweight sweater.Oh, well.The evening would be over soon enough. Gnawing on her pink-tinted bubblegum lip balm, she pondered what she’d say if Colt asked for a second date.
“Here’s fine.” Eliza paused before the bottom step, turning to face him. “Thanks for a fun evening.”
“My pleasure.” His mouth quirked in an adorably crooked grin, Colt took a step toward her. “We should do it again sometime.”
Eliza parted her lips, ready to let him down gently.
But Colt must have misread the signal.
Taking another step closer, he dipped his chin, lowering his lips to hers.
* * *
As Sylvia walked him to the door, Grant clutched Ben’s painting in his hand as though he were holding a priceless Monet, lightly grazing his thumb over the smears of red paint in the upper-right hand corner that spelled out his name.
“Thank you for dinner. I had a great time.”
“No, thankyou!” Sylvia gushed, pressing a hand to her heart. “Seeing the way Ben lit up when you showed him that watercolor trick where you wet the paper first…” She released a dramatic sigh. “Well, that made my heart so happy. The poor boy’s had a rough time at school lately, so I know tonight meant a lot to him.”
“He’s a great kid.” The words slipped from Grant’s lips before he realized it. And he was surprised by how adamantly he meant them.
“He is. All thanks to that incredible mom of his. And no thanks to his delinquent father,” Sylvia scowled.
“He doesn’t have any contact with Ben?” The thought sent a jolt of fury blazing through Grant’s chest.
“No. And he completely fell off the face of the earth, far as I can tell. Liza doesn’t like to talk about it. She loves Ben, don’t get me wrong. But I know that moment in her life fills her with regret. She still beats herself up about it. But heartache makes people do stupid things. And she was never more heartbroken than when she broke up…” Sylvia’s eyes grew wide, as though she’d only recently been made aware of Grant’s presence. Her mouth snapped shut and her face turned a shocking shade of puce. “You know what… I almost forgot to box up some desserts for you to take home. I’ll be right back.”
Before Grant could respond, Sylvia turned on her heel and scurried toward the kitchen.
Grant lingered in the entryway, his stomach wrenching as he mulled over Sylvia’s admission. He knew all about regret. A single haunting memory from one weak moment frequented his thoughts daily.
Fidgeting with his keys, Grant paced the Persian-style runner, pausing when movement outside the window caught his eye. As the two figures came into focus, illuminated by the porch light, Grant’s keys clattered to the floor.
He watched, his heartbeat raging against his rib cage as Colt leaned toward Eliza, lowering his mouth to hers.
“Don’t eat too many of these tonight.” Sylvia’s warning tore Grant’s gaze from the window. “They’re full of caffeine and will keep you awake for hours.”
