Jenna reached for her goblet of ice water. “I haven’t had a lot to smile about since I lost Grandpa.” To her surprise, the admission didn’t make tears instantly prick the corners of her eyes. Itdidunsurprisingly cause her chest to tighten and her pulse to double in an irrational panic. She couldn’t imagine a day she wouldn’t feelsomepinch of loss.
“Eddie was such an incredible guy,” Cody said, awe in his tone. “He was a talented screenwriter, which you no doubt know. But he was such a kind, interesting, spectacular human being.” The warm way he spoke of her grandpa brought her unexpected comfort. “I met him for the first time in Barbados, four years ago. But I had the pleasure of working on three different movie sets with him. He’s the only screenwriter I’ve ever actually met. They don’t hang around the set much. Eddie told me he got inspired to write something new by watching the stunts.”
“He told me that, too.” Jenna remembered the conversation fondly. She’d been eleven, drawing a magical forest at the kitchen table. Grandpa was cooking because Whitney was working a double shift. “I asked him how he came up with his ideas one night while he was making dinner.”
“Did you ever get to go with him on set?” Cody asked, those dangerously tempting sea-green eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Yeah, a few times.” Jenna smiled fondly at the memories from her childhood. “The older I got, though, the less I went. Never seemed to be any time. Between my full-time desk job and constant deadlines with my editor, I had a lot of reasons to stay home. Not a lot of movies filmed in Indiana, you know.” It’d also been easier to say no so that Whitney wouldn’t get bent out of shape about Jenna being gone. Though underneath her sister’s snide comments was a jealous girl who messed up her opportunity to be on a movie set ever again.
“What’s that look about?” Cody’s tone was gentle enough, but she felt the press for information that always made her slam her walls into place.
“What look?”
“You two ready to order?” Sophie Grant asked sweetly as she approached their table. “Tessa made an amazing halibut corn chowder, but it’s going fast.”
“That sounds really good,” Jenna said, relief at the interruption. “Sign me up for that.”
“I’ll take the same,” Cody said. “And some of that cornbread if that’s on the menu today.” He looked at Jenna, his crooked smile returning the normalcy to their conversation. “She makes it from scratch. Don’t tell my mom, but it’s better than hers.”
“Cornbread for you, too?” Sophie asked Jenna.
“Yes, please.”
“Say, Sophie, is your husband on a deadline right now?”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “He’salwayson a deadline.”
“Do you think he’d be upset if we popped by after lunch? I’d like to get Jenna an autographed copy of one of his books.”
“I think he’d be fine with that.”
“Thank you.” Jenna spotted the curiosity dancing in Sophie’s eyes. She suspected they were on a date. The best thing to do would be to clear that misconception up right now before Sophie hurried back to the kitchen. Cody knew it as well as she did. Instead, he stayed silent. And Jenna wasn’t about to delay their halibut corn chowder in case they were nearly out.
“I’ll call the house after I get your soup. Caroline’s off from school today—parent-teacher conferences. I’ll have her set one out for him to sign.” She looked at Jenna. “Any particular book you’d like?”
“Surprise us,” Cody said before Jenna could give some generic answer. She couldn’t even recallwhothis author was from the list, much less if she’d heard of him. Might be that Grandpa got a kick out of meeting another author and thought she’d find that neat as well. Or it was a hint she should consider moving to Alaska—see, another author writes up here!
“How do you know I don’thaveall of his books?” Jenna asked.
Cody lifted his glass as he met her gaze, and her heart fluttered. She understood why half the women in this town were practically falling over themselves to get Cody to turn his head their way. One look in those eyes was all it took to be lost to his effortless charm. She’d witnessed the phenomenon a few times, even if he seemed oblivious. Which she didn’t believe was anything more than an act to spare their feelings. “What’s his name?” Cody asked.
“Who?”Oh, he means the author. Might’ve helped if I’d read the list closer.She reached for the folded paper in her jacket pocket. “It’s—”
“No cheating,” he said, grabbing the list from her before she could unfold it. His fingertips grazed the side of her hand, causing those pesky butterflies in her stomach to get a little wild. Not that she’d ever let him know that.
Instead, Jenna narrowed her eyes at him. But the severity from earlier glares didn’t find this one. She was warming up to him. A problem for both of them if it kept on this way. And yet, she couldn’t find the good sense to be bothered by that. “Hardly seems fair.”
“Denver’s expecting you after lunch,” Sophie said, returning with chowder and cornbread. “If he’s still in sweatpants, just ignore that. He’s on this whole roll-out-of-bed-and write-first-thing kick. He’s been getting his words twice as fast, so I don’t pester him about it.”
“Thanks, Sophie,” Cody said before she whisked away to help another table, leaving him to turn a curious gaze to Jenna. “Do you write in your pajamas, too?”
“Used to.” She tore off a corner of her cornbread, silently mourning the glory days when she’d draft an entire story in a day wearing her favorite pajama pants. Those were the days her excitement was too high to let even Whitney kill her good mood. “Wow, this isreallygood. The food alone might make me stay in Sunset Ridge. My sister’d be horrified if I told her how much I’ve been eating since I got here.” Jenna couldn’t help the malicious smile that crept across her lips as she imagined Whitney’s appalled expression. Maybe then she’d accept that Jenna wasn’t going to the wedding. “Did you know Tessa—the same one fromOrder Up: Las Vegasby the way—makes amazing white chocolate raspberry muffins?”
“Your sister sounds . . . interesting.”
Jenna sputtered a laugh that lifted her shoulders with it. “Let’s just say my family isnothinglike yours.”
“Why don’t you write in your pajamas anymore?”
