He let himself be steered away, boots carrying him toward the stage.
But his eyes kept drifting back.
Because he knew exactly what he stood to lose.
And exactly what he had to fix.
CHAPTER 39
Grace
Grace knew betterthan to expect him to come over.
Of course he wouldn’t.
She bent back over the table, rearranging paints. Red to yellow. Yellow to blue. Cups straightened. Paper towels stacked.
She knew the rules now.
He could look at her in public. But he wouldn’t stand with her.
She glanced up again, against her better judgment.
Luke was already walking away, guided by Eleanor Matthews toward the gazebo. Toward the stage. Toward the center of town.
Toward everyone whose opinion he actually cared about.
Grace felt the familiar hollow open beneath her ribs.
There it was. The answer she’d sworn she wasn’t waiting for.
Mrs. Ellery said something beside her—Grace nodded, smiled at the right place, kept the pleasant teacher expression firmly in place. She’d had years of practice at this. Being warm whileswallowing disappointment. Being agreeable while something inside her folded in on itself.
He’d kissed her on her porch two nights ago. He’d fixed her railing. Replaced the porch boards. Sorted things out for Eli without ever being asked. Had shown up. Over and over.
Made her feel—God help her—safe.
Damn him for letting her believe, even for a moment, that this time was different.
She should have known better. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice?—
Well.
That one was on her.
Grace rinsed a brush too hard, water sloshing over the rim of the cup and onto the table. She grabbed a paper towel, dabbed at it, pretended it was nothing.
She’d done this to herself.
She’d let herself imagine Luke Bennett of Crystal Lake standing beside her in public. Had let herself picture walking through the festival with him, shoulder to shoulder, no shadows, no secret rendezvous.
As if she hadn’t already learned this lesson.
As if she hadn’t asked him once and watched him pull away because proximity to her family name might ruin him.
Grace swallowed.
The paint station filled quickly as kids began lining up, faces already smudged with anticipation. Grace slipped easily back into motion—smiling, crouching, asking what they wanted. Cats. Rainbows. Butterflies.
