“It’ll be nice to spruce up the yard.” Gram snapped a picture of Shelby’s display with her phone. “Beautiful. Can you check on the customer when you’re finished here? I’m gonna say hello to Gray.”
“Sure thing.”
Gram went down the stairs and slipped out the door, the bell tinkling after her. A minute later the mower shut off.
Gray, a fellow classmate, used to live in a trailer on the other side of Grandville with his father. But six months ago, halfway through their junior year, his dad was arrested on charges of second-degree murder, and Gray moved in with his grandmother.
Something like that didn’t go unnoticed in a town with fewer than fifteen thousand residents. The case was the talk of the town for months, and Ferris’s recent conviction only spurred it on. He was now serving time in the state penitentiary.
Rumors had swirled throughout the school about Gray. He was tall and darkly handsome and strutted through Grandville High’s halls in weathered jeans and T-shirts, silent and brooding. Shelby had only ever shared one class with him—English—and he’d hardly said a single word all year.
Though one time they’d reached the trash can at the same time, and his blue stare at such close range had made her blood buzz in her veins. Time stood still for a few ticks of the clock before he finally dropped a wad of paper in the trash can and swaggered back to his seat.
The seemingly insignificant moment had left her shaken. Later she told herself her reaction had been based on fear. She couldn’t get that direct gaze out of her head. Or the harsh planes of his face. Everyone knewGray was rough around the edges, and a violent streak certainly seemed to run in the family—Dorothy Briggs notwithstanding.
Now Shelby wondered how many of those rumors about Gray were actually true. Gram wouldn’t have hired a troublemaker, would she? Not even for her best friend.
Shelby finished the display, then checked on the customer who was inspecting the Travel section. After a brief discussion about the best North Carolina guides, Shelby left the woman to shop alone.
She wandered back to the front room where she peeked out the window, hoping for a glimpse of Gray. The mower sat in the middle of the yard, but Gray and Gram were nowhere to be seen. She leaned closer and finally caught sight of him raking out the beds at the base of the porch.
Shirtless.
His summer-bronzed skin gleamed under the morning sun, hugging every delicious muscle. And boy, did Gray Briggs have muscles. He had a body like Michelangelo’sDavid, only living and breathing.
His biceps bulged as he worked the rake through an entire winter’s worth of decayed leaves and debris. His rippling abdomen mesmerized her for a few long seconds. How did one acquire abs like that? Especially a guy who’d never deigned to join the football or basketball team?
Only when he stopped raking did she tear her gaze away, letting it drift toward his face. Toward his eyes.
Which were aimed directly at her.
She gasped and jumped out of view, heart racing. But she’d been about one second too late.
Chapter 5
Present day
The buttered toast churned in Gray’s stomach as he grabbed his key fob and headed out the front door. It was strange to be back at his grandmother’s lake cottage. Since shortly after her passing he’d been renting it out as an Airbnb, using a local company to handle the details. Fortunately it was now the offseason and the cottage had been available for his stay.
It was still strange to see the place barren of Granny’s personal effects. The family photos, afghans, and stacks of crossword puzzles. She had sure loved those crossword puzzles—and was good at them. When he was a kid he got her a booklet each year for her birthday, and she acted like it was the best gift she’d ever gotten.
He started his Tahoe, blinking against the sunlight sparkling off Cedar Lake. Granny’s cottage was one of the few original lake homes still standing. Most of the properties had been bought and leveled to make way for sprawling mansions.
Gray liked Granny’s home the way it was—though he’d replaced the furnishings and flooring to bring the place up-to-date. He took a sip of coffee, brewed by the Breville he’d splurged on. Most of his guests appreciated the touch of luxury—as did he. Quality coffee was his one guilty pleasure.
He’d paid dearly for his stop at Latte Da yesterday. Renee Remington had been there with a friend, and her face turned to stone at the sight of him. That familiar old shame returned, tingling his face with heat. It was her son Troy that Gray’s dad had killed. An accident, perhaps, but still. Gray was guilty by association.
The Remington family obviously hadn’t forgiven or forgotten, and they were a big, influential family. Back when he lived here most folks in town showed their loyalty to them by aiming disapproving looks his way or, if he was lucky, ignoring him altogether. All of the above filled him with shame somehow.
But he was an adult now and able to process his feelings in a more mature way. He wasn’t responsible for what his dad had done. Wasn’t responsible for the gossip that had fueled his bad reputation. He’d never deserved their derision.
As the caffeine kicked in he pushed the past in its place and thought back to his conversation with Shelby yesterday. He had his work cut out for him there. A lot of making up to do where she was concerned.
She seemed so different from the girl she used to be. He’d known from the beginning she was way out of his league. She was smart and beautiful, the popular girl in school. Not one of those uppity clique girls, but a well-liked, cheerful sort whom classmates rallied around. She was on student council, played on the softball team, and was always willing to lend a sympathetic ear. Classmates flooded to her for advice and encouragement. She somehow seemed more mature than the rest of them. If anyone needed anything, Shelby Thatcher was there to lend a hand.
He gathered all this information from observation throughout their school years. In middle school he’d privately scoffed at her people-pleasing ways. But in high school she’d shot up a few inches, developed curves, and grown into her big brown eyes and wide smile. She always seemed to have a novel in hand, and he often found himself trying toglimpse the title. Somehow this bit of insight into her reading habits made him feel closer to her.
He never actually spoke to her though. Why would Shelby Sunshine want anything to do with a ne’er-do-well like Grayson Briggs? He’d found it best to keep his head down, quietly ace his tests, and focus on planning a better future for himself.
