Anticipation floated upward within her.
Glass covered much of the front of his house, so chances were good that she’d be able to see him inside as she passed. If so, she planned to knock, explain that she’d been walking by, noticed him, and wanted to say hello.
And he likely wouldn’t mind the intrusion because they were friends... . Or friendly, at least.
When she reached the edge of his property, she saw him standing on his lawn, attempting to start a push lawnmower.
“Sometimes I amaze . . . even . . . myself.”The Han Solo quote stumbled like a drunk person through her head.
Sebastian was just yards away. Wearing basketball shorts. And no shirt.
Leah resettled her attention respectfully forward. She hadn’t prepared a plan for this particular scenario! She wasn’t experienced at carrying on conversations with shirtless men.
He didn’t have the self-indulgent, puffed-up body of someone who lifted heavy weights at the gym. Nonetheless, he clearly did spend time exercising. His frame was imposing. His chest and abdomen, firm and smooth.
“Leah?”
At the sound of his voice, she turned, her motion halting.
He’d straightened to his full height, his face a portrait of surprise.
“Oh! Hello.” She approached him.
The dark stubble on his cheeks informed her that he hadn’t shaved this morning. Hurriedly, she worked to absorb the remaining details of his appearance. . . . The piercing pale gray of his eyes. The blunt nose and determined lips. The weathered plane of his forehead. The vertical furrow between his brows. He looked like a man who’d been to war and lived to tell the tale.
“Dr. Grant.”
“Professor Montgomery.”
“Nice to see you again.”
“Nice to see you again, too.”
“You told me once that you like to mow your lawn.”
“And you told me once that you like hiking.”
“I guess neither of us was lying.”
He smiled. “What brings you to this part of town?”
“I get bored walking my neighborhood, so I frequently drive to areas of town I haven’t yet explored and walk other people’s neighborhoods,” she lied.
“You’re not carrying a purse.” His attention flicked down to her tennis shoes and back up. “So where’s your graphing calculator?”
She laughed. “I’m heartened to inform you that I actually can accomplish quite a bit of math in my head, so I keep my calculator near me most of the time but am not obliged to keep it with meallof the time.”
“You’re not afraid you might encounter a math problem you can’t solve in your head while out walking?”
“If I do encounter that type of problem while out walking, I’m confident that I’ll be able to remember it well enough to input it into my calculator at the first available opportunity.”
“Very brave.”
And there it was, that living, crackling, thrilling allure. And not because of his shirtlessness. Because ofhim. His quickness and understated humor. And alsothem. Their alchemy.
Very, very intriguing.
It was glorious to banter with him again. In fact, talking to him gave her the same feeling she’d experienced when she’d returned to Misty River from New England—the delight of coming home.
