“I think you left out a few things.”
She looked at him, searching for his meaning. But as usual there was no way to read his expression.
“You had the highest RBI average on your softball team. You set your school’s record for the four-hundred-meter dash. And you were all-state in volleyball your senior year.”
She blinked at him. How...? “Molly.”
“She’s very proud of you.” He sounded amused.
“Good grief.” Grace wanted to slink under the table. What else had her sister shared while trying to pique his interest in Grace? “She’s very nosy, and she doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.”
“You should be proud of your accomplishments.”
“No one cares what you did in high school. It’s real life that matters.”
“Your history shows perseverance and discipline—traits that’ll serve you well in life also.”
“My turn.” She was ready to shine the spotlight on someone else. Only she hadn’t really thought about what she’d ask first. She most wanted to know if Wyatt had a girlfriend, but she’d save that one. Too obvious. She decided to ask him something equally as dull as he’d asked her. “Tell me about your favorite hobby.”
If he was disappointed in the question it didn’t show. “All right. I play the guitar. Taught myself when I was a teenager. Good way to relax.”
“You didn’t bring a guitar with you.”
“I didn’t come here to relax—at least not entirely.”
She wanted to ask exactly why he had come here but suspected the question would make him retreat. “What genre? Do you write your own songs?”
He looked away. “You had your question; my turn.”
“Youdo.” She grinned, suddenly knowing it was true, even though his expression gave nothing away. “You write songs.”
“Your question has expired.”
“Are they love songs?”
“It’s my turn, Aunt Grace.”
She wasn’t letting him off that easily. “My request was to ‘tell me about your favorite hobby,’ so songwriting falls under that category.”
He spared her a long look. “Fine. I may have written a song or two. They’re not especially good, and no, I’m not singing them to you.”
She’d bet her right arm they were better than he admitted and couldn’t help but wonder what exactly had inspired those songs. Women? And did he have a good voice as well? She suddenly wished he had a sister who’d spill all the deets to her.
“Favorite genre?”
“Country and classic rock. I know a few hymns too. And now it’s definitely my turn. Tell me about your boyfriend.”
She blinked at the sudden shift of topic. Now it was getting good. “What makes you think I have a boyfriend?”
“Come on. Pretty girls usually do.”
She liked thepretty, but there was thatgirlagain. “Well, as it happens, I’m single at the moment. I’m focusing on my business right now.”
“Your most recent boyfriend, then.”
It was sort of another question, but she’d let it pass in the event it might work in her favor later. “That would be Nick. We didn’t date long, just five or six months, and then we decided we’d be better as friends.”
He hiked a brow. “You meanyoudecided that.”
