“Hi, Mrs. Whittaker. It’s really nice to see you again.” He’d always liked the sweet, spunky woman. She was famous for supplying every school function with her rich, homemade desserts.
To his surprise, she licked her thumb before smoothing down an unruly patch of his hair. “You haven’t changed a bit. Same head of molasses-colored curls. You’re a little taller, though. I didn’t used to have to stand on my tiptoes to combat your ornery mane.”
Once he recovered from his shock, Grant released a low rumble of laughter. Although he wasn’t considered extraordinarily tall at five eleven, hehadgrown an inch or two since high school. “Thanks for looking out for me, Mrs. Whittaker.”
“Goodness gracious! No one’s called me that in years. Call me Dolores. Or DeeDee, if you like. Does Luke know you’re back?”
Grant ran a nervous hand through his hair, undoing all of Dolores’s efforts. “No. I, uh, thought I’d surprise him.”
Dolores clicked her tongue. “Well, good thing I caught you first. Make sure he’s not operating the handsaw when you spring yourself on him. A surprise of this magnitude could cause someone to lose a finger.” She embraced Grant again, squeezing him even tighter this time. “Good to have you home, son. We’ve all missed you like the dickens.”
As Grant inhaled her scent once more, noting the faintest whiff of Banjo’s favorite salty treat, he couldn’t help thinking how different her reception was to his own mother’s.
He also couldn’t help thinking not everyone in town would be as welcoming as Dolores Whittaker.
If only making amends with Luke would be as easy as offering him a can of sardines.
Chapter 4
As Grant maneuvered around the furniture toward the back of the showroom, his heart hammered in his throat. Once he crossed the threshold into the courtyard, he’d have to face a decade of regret.
Maybe even a fist to his jaw.
One hand on the brass doorknob, Grant raised his chin a smidge higher. If Luke took a swing, he wouldn’t even try to dodge it. He deserved whatever came his way. Who ditched town and didn’t keep in touch with their best friends? A callous jerk, that’s who.
Stepping into the courtyard, Grant flinched, shielding his eyes from a momentary glare as sunlight reflected off a metal paint can.
Luke dipped a brush into a can of ebony stain, whistling to himself as he dragged the bristles along the arm of an oversize Adirondack chair.
Grant cleared his throat.
As Luke glanced up from his kneeling position on the drop cloth, his smile faded, replaced by surprise, then confusion. Setting down his brush, he slowly rose to his full six two of solid muscle.
Grant tensed but stood his ground as Luke approached.
Pausing a foot away, Luke surveyed Grant as though making sure he was really standing in front of him. Then his hazel eyes softened, and in one long stride, he pulled Grant into a bone-crushing hug.
Not exactly the way Grant had expected to receive bodily harm during the encounter.
“Welcome home, you oaf.” Luke’s deep, rich voice carried a teasing quality, and Grant immediately relaxed.
“Thanks.”
The men stepped apart, but Luke kept one hand on Grant’s shoulder. “I gotta admit. For a minute, I thought I’d seen a ghost.”
Grant smiled sheepishly. “For a minute, I thought that paint can would wind up over my head.”
Luke laughed, slapping Grant on the back. “Not gonna lie. You have a lot of explaining to do. But I never did see the point in holding a grudge. I’m just glad you’re back.”
Grant drew in a grateful breath, releasing it in one long, steady exhale. He should’ve known Luke would greet him with nothing but kindness. Even as kids, Luke was the guy who always put others first. “I appreciate that. But I owe you an apology.” Grant paused. What should he say? For leaving home and losing touch? For missing every birthday? Your graduation from law school? Your father’s funeral? He cringed. The list of grievances was endless, to be sure. But that one? Unforgivable.
“Consider yourself forgiven.” Luke’s compassion-filled eyes held his gaze a moment, as if wiping away Grant’s transgressions in a single glance. “So, what brings you home after all these years?”
Grant swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. He fought the urge to hug Luke a second time. “Your wedding, truthfully. Not that I’m inviting myself. But I at least wanted to congratulate you in person and give you my best. I’ve missed too much already. I didn’t want to add this to the list, too.”
“Not invited? Heck! Now that you’re back, I want you in the wedding!”
“Oh, no. Luke, you don’t have to—”
