A small, albeit strange, step toward making amends.
* * *
As Grant stood at the throwing line, he racked his brain for an excuse to pass the ball off to someone else. A hand cramp, maybe?
A bee buzzed in front of his face, and he seriously contemplated provoking it.
“Come on, Parker. We don’t have all day,” Jack ribbed with a good-natured drawl.
Swallowing hard, Grant directed his gaze at Eliza.
She’d tucked her dress around her legs, clutching the fabric to her thighs in anticipation of her impending swim. Apprehension creased her forehead, but her expression remained resolute.
Grant guessed she hadn’t actually been in line for the dunk tank. And only jumped ahead of Luke at the last minute. He wasn’t surewhy,exactly, but he had a sneaking suspicion.
His gaze drifted to the bright red target. Somehow, he’d have to miss without making it appear intentional. Which shouldn’t be too hard, considering his athletic abilities were practically nonexistent.
Winding back his arm, he focused on a few inches to the right of the target.
Nice and easy….
As the ball flew from his fingertips, Grant’s heart stopped.
It took eons for the small round sphere to span the short distance.
Then a single shriek preceded a loud splash.
* * *
As Grant spotted Eliza duck behind the pie tent, he surreptitiously followed.
Rounding the corner, he caught sight of her shivering as she dried herself off with a striped beach towel. Beads of water poured off her sopping-wet sundress, and her blond hair hung in damp, bedraggled strands.
But she looked beautiful nonetheless.
And for a moment, all he could do was take her in.
Grant still couldn’t believe she’d climbed up there and perched on the ledge like a peace offering.
He also couldn’t believe he’d accidentally hit the target. Turns out, he’d been doing it wrong all these years. And the key to hitting your mark was aimingawayfrom it. Go figure.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Eliza jumped, relaxing when she realized who’d startled her. “What do you mean?”
“You volunteered as some sort of restitution.”
“I did no—” Her protest died on her lips, as she seemed to think better of telling another lie.
Even if only a white one.
Grant took a step closer, noticing the goose bumps scattered across her arms. “It was sweet, but not necessary. I’m not mad at you. I’m…” He paused. What was he? Confused? Hurt? His feelings melded together, a jumbled mess he wasn’t yet able to untangle.
A strand of wet hair clung to her forehead, grazing just above her right eye. Grant moved toward her, instinctively brushing it aside, sweeping it behind her ear.
Eliza’s breath faltered, and her eyes flew to his, water droplets still clinging to her long dark lashes.
What was he doing? He needed to walk away and put a safe distance between them. But he couldn’t move. He didn’twantto move.
