“It’s not a matter ofhaveto,” Luke assured him. “I want you to be a groomsman. Along with Colt, Jack, and Reed. We’ll bring the gang back together. Just like old times.”
Grant wavered. He loved the idea they could pick up where they’d left off. But could it really be that simple? “I don’t know… Are you sure?”
“If you ask me one more time, Iwillshellac your face with that stain,” Luke teased.
Grant managed a small smile, still a little dazed. “Okay. I guess I’ll be sticking around town for a while, then.”
“Perfect!” Luke strode back to where he’d left the paintbrush and plopped it in a rinse bucket. “We have some catching up to do. Starting with a plate of ribs at Jack’s.”
Grant chuckled. “I still can’t believe Jack owns a diner.”
“A lot has changed since you left.” After securing the lid on the paint can, Luke glanced over his shoulder. “By the way, have you…”
Based on his hesitant expression, Grant could guess what Luke was about to ask. “No, I haven’t seen Eliza yet. I know I’ll have to eventually. But I’m not in a rush, if you know what I mean.”
Luke’s brow furrowed, and after a moment, he shook his head. “No, I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean. What happened between you two? One minute you were inseparable. The next, it’s like you never existed.”
Grant winced. He’d always hoped Eliza had explained everything to Luke. At least then, Luke might have understood why he left. “It’s a long story.”
“We’ll have plenty of time over lunch.”
“Maybe at some point. But not today.” Grant hoped his tone conveyed a note of finality.
Luke didn’t look satisfied with Grant’s response, but he pressed his lips in a firm line and set to work rinsing the brush.
Grant hated to blow him off, but if Luke wanted the truth about what happened between them, he’d have to ask Eliza.
* * *
As Eliza rounded the bend in Walnut Tree Lane, her tense grip on the steering wheel relaxed, and she breathed a little easier as the picturesque Victorian cottage came into view.
Eliza had always thought Edith Hayward’s home was stunning, with its bright white siding and gingerbread trim that was more elaborate than her finest piped icing. Including the enormous, ornate cake she’d recently baked for the Flannigans’ fiftieth anniversary party.
But Eliza’s favorite feature was the grand, sweeping walnut tree in the front yard, which would be the perfect spot for a bench swing. More than once, she’d allowed herself to daydream about sipping sweet tea from the rocking chair on the front porch, the loyal family dog lounging by her feet while Ben played on the swing. And during these momentary lapses in sanity, she’d envision loving, steady hands deftly swinging Ben high into the air, her son’s gleeful giggles mingling with the songbirds perched on the branches overhead. Without fail, the strong, dependable hands belonged to one man, and one man only. Her first love and New Year’s Eve phantom, Grant Parker.
Whenever the delusional thought squeezed past her defenses, Eliza quickly squelched the unwelcome intrusion. It wouldn’t do her any good to hold out hope for the impossible. Besides, the cottage belonged to Cassie now, ever since she’d inherited it from her late grandmother last Christmas.
Eliza couldn’t help but smile as the memories of last year’s festivities bounded to the forefront of her mind. In less than six months, so many things had changed. And once again, her world seemed to be balancing on the edge of another precipice.
Colt Davis had asked her out! On adate.
And Eliza had no idea what to do about it.
As she parked her dilapidated Honda Accord next to Cassie’s blueberry-colored Prius, her stomach twisted tighter than a garlic knot. Her life would be so much simpler if she turned Colt down. But seeing how happy Luke and Cassie were together stirred a painfully suppressed longing in Eliza’s heart for a partner—someone to share her life with, both the good and the bad.
Pushing through the cheery red door, Eliza called out, “Cass, I’m here!”
“In the kitchen,” Cassie hollered back.
But even if Cassie hadn’t announced her whereabouts, Eliza would have followed the enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee to the snug, homey kitchen.
“Whatever you’re brewing smells amazing!” Leaning over the French press, Eliza closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring the delicate tendrils of steam curling from the spout.
Oddly, Eliza had never cared for coffee until she met Cassie. She’d only ever tasted generic ground coffee from a can that had already lost all its flavor by the time it was brewed.
Now Eliza drank only the best blends—roasted by Cassie herself or Frank Barrie. Eliza’s heart warmed at the thought of the kind yet cantankerous old man. Frank had lived nearly his entire adult life secluded from the outside world, penning best-selling books on coffee roasting under a pseudonym. Until Cassie’s sweet spirit and shared love of the rich, full-bodied beverage drew him out of hiding. Cassie had an uncanny knack for bringing people together in ways even she couldn’t foresee.
“Oh, I’m so glad you think so!” Cassie beamed, pressing the plunger on the French press, forcing the grounds to the bottom of the glass carafe. “It’s a new blend Frank and I created. We thought its fruity undertones would pair well with your dessert idea.” Cassie selected two floral mugs from the cupboard and set them on the counter. “Is that why you’re here? Because if you make me taste any more of your experiments, I won’t fit into my wedding dress.” Cassie laughed as she filled both mugs with the dark, velvety liquid.
