Her lips quirked. “That’s a terrible line.”
“Still worked. It got you to smile at me again.”
And then the rhythm shifted.
Footsteps. Loud ones. Quick and sure, coming up behind her on the path.
Graham jogged up—his breath steady, like he’d emerged from a lifestyle magazine ad titledJoggers Who Steal Your Girlfriend.
Except she wasn’t my girlfriend—yet.
His eyes flicked to me for half a second before settling on Eliza. “Evening,” he said smoothly.
“Hey,” she replied, voice neutral, but the way she shifted her weight toward me said everything.
I didn’t move, just watched as he slowed to a stop. He gave me a nod—barely polite—and then turned his whole body toward her like I wasn’t even there.
“I saw the lights were on at the Coffee Cabin earlier,” he said. “I meant to stop by. Still figuring out the best espresso in town.”
"My coffee is obviously the best, but I think you'd feel more comfortable at this cute little upscale place, about 140 miles that way,"
He laughed as if she’d flirted. She hadn’t. I couldn’t figure out their dynamic.
Eliza rolled her eyes, but her lips quirked at the edges, betraying a hint of anger. The air felt charged—competitive, yes, but also threaded with something unspoken between all three of us. For a moment, the evening seemed to pause, each of us sizing up the scene and where we belonged in it.
Remy and Linguini were fully on alert now—Remy giving a low growl and Linguini half hiding behind Eliza’s legs.
Graham didn’t notice. Or didn’t care.
He turned his smile on me. “Still getting your footing at the Pennywhistle?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Footing’s solid.”
“Good,” he said, too quickly. “Would hate to see the place fall apart. Especially with the Taste-Off coming up. You’re entering, right?”
There it was. He regarded me as competition. He looked at me like we were already standing at opposite ends of a battlefield, aprons on, spatulas drawn. But why would he care about the Pennywhistle and me? We were not the same type of restaurant, and there was plenty of room in Honeybrook Hollow for both of us.
I kept my expression flat. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’m sure you are.”
He turned his attention back to Eliza. “We should catch up soon.” He took a step closer to her, that greasy smile still fixed in place?—
“Shit!” He yelped, hopping back as Eliza’s little brown devil released his ankle from between needle-sharp teeth and sat down again, looking deeply unimpressed.
One glance at Eliza’s expression, bright with barely contained delight, had me quickly turning my head, feigning interest in something over my shoulder as I stifled my own answering smirk.
Graham straightened, face tight, forcing a laugh. “Guess I should keep moving. Gotta keep the heart rate up.”
Eliza didn’t smile. She simply adjusted her grip on the leash.
“Plenty of town to run in,” she said coolly.
And then, with a final nod to me that barely qualified as acknowledgment, he turned and jogged off down the path like some damn swan-necked shadow.
I watched until he disappeared into the trees, tension buzzing behind my ribs.
When I looked back at Eliza, her expression was unreadable.
