No matter how badly she wanted to.
Chapter 17
No matter how hard he tried, Grant couldn’t stop dwelling on the events of last night. The look on Eliza’s face when he’d asked her about Ben’s father still gave him chills. She’d turned ashen, the change visible even in the twilight. He hadn’t been able to breathe, waiting in agony for her response.
But none came.
Only a single tear trailing softly down her cheek. Which could only mean one thing….
Eliza was still in love with Ben’s father.
The realization gutted Grant, causing his chest to compress around his heart, as though she’d rolled one of the nearby boulders on top of him, leaving him gasping for air. What kind of man would abandon Eliza? And his own son? Did he even know what an incredible kid Ben was?
Anger ripped through him, and he tore the page from his sketchbook, crumpling it in his fist. He’d come out to the garden to concentrate and make some progress on Landon’s project. But he struggled to think about anything other than Eliza. And the promising future that had slipped through his fingertips.
For a moment, Grant had dared to hope, encouraged by the perfect evening they’d spent together. But what chance did he have if Eliza’s heart belonged to someone else?
Besides, even wishing for another outcome left him conflicted. If Eliza had a shot of making it work with Ben’s father, shouldn’t he be rooting for them?
The garden gate creaked, startling Grant from his thoughts.
Stan rested his fishing rod against the white picket fence before carrying the Coleman ice chest toward the back porch.
“Is that dinner?” Grant nodded to the cooler, and Stan flashed a wry grin.
“Are you kidding?” he chuckled, the corners of his eyes revealing laugh lines Grant hadn’t noticed before. “Your mom won’t cook anything that doesn’t come prepackaged from Mac’s Mercantile. I use the cooler to keep my sarsaparilla chilled. I’m strictly a catch and release fisherman these days.”
Grant watched his father stop and set the cooler on the lawn, baffled by his cheery demeanor.
After peeking into his office earlier that morning, Grant noticed Stan had moved a chess piece, leaving behind the same note. Did his father’s chipper mood have anything to do with their unconventional chess game? And Grant’s even more unconventional apology?
“What are you working on?” Stan leaned over Grant’s shoulder to get a closer look at his laptop. “Morris Bio Tech, huh? That’s quite an account.”
Grant sat a smidge straighter at the twinge of pride in his father’s tone. “It’s my biggest one to date.”
“They’re a manufacturing company, right?”
“Yes. Their focus is on sustainable packaging materials.”
“So, how does the cupcake with a coffee bean on top tie in?”
Grant followed his father’s gaze to a drawing he’d done for Eliza’s website. He quickly covered it with loose papers. “Oh, that’s nothing.”
A small knowing smile tugged at the corner of Stan’s mouth. “I’m sure it is.”
Stan hovered over Grant’s shoulder a few more minutes, the air between them thick with awkward tension despite the cool breeze rustling through the dogwood trees.
Grant waited for Stan to retreat inside, only to balk when he pulled out a chair and sat down. His mouth hanging open, Grant stared, dumbfounded, as Stan shuffled through the papers, unearthing a few of his other sketches.
“These are quite good.”
Grant suppressed a sarcastic retort, making some progress on his vow to think before he spoke. But his father had never cared about his artistic talent before. And Grant had often wondered what direction his life would have taken if his dad hadn’t wrenched them from New York. His mom had him on track to attend the Pratt Institute, claiming that one of the most prestigious art colleges in the world could land him any job he wanted. When she’d lost most of her social connections after their cross-country move, they’d switched their focus to a moreattainablegoal, as she’d put it.
“Thanks. It’s a small side project. I’m helping Eliza and Cassie with a website for The Calendar Café.” Grant hesitated before adding, “But maybe don’t mention that to Mom.”
Stan nodded with a look that said,Say no more.“I’m partial to this one.” He selected a watercolor showcasing an old-fashioned coffeepot filled with cheerful daisies.
“Oh, yeah?” Grant tilted his head, studying it from the sideways angle. He’d liked that design, but not as much as the others.
