A brief discussion to clarify the pricing tiers was settled quickly and the vote to change those rates passed—unanimously. He wasn’t about to vote against her proposal.
“Thank you,” Grace said with a wide smile. “One additional idea I’m toying with is a central location for hand-crafted goods. Rather than have our friends and neighbors compete with sellers from outside of Brookwell, we could create a showcase of local talent. And publicize it as such.”
“As long as I get my annual supply of peach preserves!” Reed called out.
Cal chuckled along with the others. Had she and Reed discussed that before the meeting or were the quilting circle’s preserves he’d heard mentioned in hushed whispers really that good? “Levi can provide whatever you need for that kind of vendor tent,” Cal offered. Grace gave him her full attention, just for a moment, and he felt as if he was standing in the glow of a warm sunbeam. “Publicity too. We, um, can discuss the details later.”
“Absolutely,” she agreed. “We’ll have a complete proposal for the committee by next month’s meeting.”
The meeting continued for another hour and Cal took notes as needed, gently planting seeds of ideas to nurture for subsequent meetings and decisions.
The last order of business was the reminder about the kick-off party. Reed stood and addressed the group. “Do y’all remember when we did all this at the pub? I love how much we’ve grown this event.” He tipped his head toward Cal. “And how much we’ll grow again. This year’s kick-off party will be on the ferry,” he continued. “We’ll set up everything at the dock, so the whole town can come out if they want. The DJ has last year’s playlist and he’ll include any new hits from the bands in last year’s showcase. Many thanks to Holly and Vince, they’ve created a video reel for us so we can relive the highlights.”
By the time the president ended the meeting, Cal was caught in that strange limbo between exhausted and wired. He exchanged a few words with several committee members as they left, promising Levi would attend the kick-off party, and suddenly realized he was once more alone with Grace. The silence that surrounded them was weighted with a decade of thoughts and feelings left unsaid.
“Thank you for the support,” he said.
“You’re welcome.” Her lips parted, then closed. “Your ideas are solid,” she added.
This day was one surprise after another.
Grace stood, gathering her pen and notebook, but her hand slipped and the notebook skidded across the table. They both reached to catch it at the same time and their hands collided.
The contact sent a jolt through this system. A spark that traveled up his arm and settled directly in his chest. She gasped, her lips parting as her gaze locked with his. Cal didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers brushed over her knuckles, her skin silky and warm. Helpless to resist, his body responded with longing and a jarring flare of hope.
This wasnotwhy he was here.
“Grace,” he whispered.
“Please don’t,” she breathed, though she didn’t move.
He wouldn’t push her. Couldn’t live with himself if he did. Although every encounter emphasized how much he missed her, how much he wanted her in his life, forcing her to acknowledge what they’d lost would surely backfire.
Reluctantly, he eased away from her. “Grace, we should talk.”
“I’m sorry I shoved you away,” she blurted. “Back then.”
As if he might’ve forgotten the moment his world fell apart. “You did what you had to do. So did I.” Maybe this was the common ground he’d been overlooking. “In the years since you left school, some piece of me has been searching for a reason to come here,” Calvin said. “Every damn day. Every milestone hit, I wanted to call you. Celebrate with you.”
“Cal, you don’t have to?—”
“What?” He cut her off. “I’ve heard how much you don’t need from me.” He advanced, slowly, giving her time to escape this room and all the tension in the air. “I even believed it was true. Until now.”
“I-I’m fine.”
“Are you?” He reached out and caressed her cheek, his fingers finally moving that wayward curl. “Everything I’ve heard around town is how dedicated you are to the business and community.”
“It’s my home.” Her chin notched up, a challenge in her gaze.
“But who’s romancing you, Grace?” He was close enough to breathe her in, to catch the spice of cola on her breath. “Brookwell gossip says you’re perpetually single.”
“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”
As a defense, it was hardly convincing. “Shouldn’t I?” He let his knuckles stroke down the column of her throat.
“No one else is you,” she whispered, her eyes locked with his. Then her gaze dropped to his mouth. “Will you kiss me? Please, just once more.”
He cradled her head in his hand. “Once more won’t be enough,” he vowed.
