“Just wait,” he said, reaching for a block of extra-sharp cheddar with as much flair as he could muster. “The secret is good cheese. Adds depth and a little bite.”
“Depth and bite, huh?” Cora mused, raising an eyebrow, the teasing tone daring him to slip up. “Is that how you describe yourself on dating apps?”
He almost dropped the cheese grater, which would’ve completely ruined his suave chef routine. “I don’t need dating apps.”
The truth was, he hadn’t touched a dating app in years. He’d been too busy picking up the pieces of his life to think about swiping on strangers, unless you counted the barista at The Bean who kept spelling his name as “Jake.”Who has time for swiping when you’re trying to scrape together a living and figure out what comes after your dream goes up in flames?
He shrugged casually, keeping his face neutral. “Some of us know how to meet people the old-fashioned way.”
“Right,” she said. “Old-fashioned. Like chloroform?”
He chuckled, pointing at her with the grater. “See? That’sthe kind of thing that would make you terrible at dating apps.”
Except, as soon as he said it, the thought popped into his head that Cora would actually beperfecton a dating app. She’d have a profile he’d pause on, smile at, then swipe right before he even realized what he was doing. A little sarcastic, a little offbeat, with just the right amount of sass to keep things interesting. The type who wouldn’t post some cookie-cutter beach selfie or a bland “I love hiking” bio but instead would write that she’s “Fluent in sarcasm, kitchen explosions, and true crime podcasts. Swipe left if you can’t handle me abandoning you for pizza.”
Yeah, Cora wasexactlythe person who’d make him second-guess every other profile in the queue. Dangerous. And way too tempting.
Most women in Sunrise looked at him like a fun little detour on their way to finding Mr. Right. But Cora? She was different. She didn’t seem to want to change him or figure him out. She was just...there. Enjoying the moment. And him. It was nice, and way more fun than he’d had in a long time. Relaxing, even.
He swallowed, suddenly aware of how close she was standing. To distract himself, he ladled the grits into bowls, topping each with a pat of butter and some slivered chives. “Now, get ready to admit these grits are the best you’ve ever tasted.”
Cora laughed, breaking the tension. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Chef. I’ll be the judge.”
“Prepare to eat your words, Lockwood,” he said, sliding a bowl her way. “And the best grits you’ll ever have.”
She took a bite, and her expression of surprise and pure joy was all the validation he needed.
“Oh, my goodness,” she said, eyes closing as she savored the taste. “These are incredible.”
He leaned against the counter, grinning, feeling both smugand unexpectedly flustered. It had been a long time since he’d cared about impressing someone with his cooking. “Told you. Years of practice.”
Cora took another bite, smiling warmly. “Lolly would have loved these.”
The praise hit him in the chest, a mix of pride and something softer. Something dangerous. Because it wasn’t just about the food. It was about her standing inhiskitchen, smiling like she belonged, when she still planned to sell the place out from under him.
For a moment, they looked at each other, the air between them thick with something weightier than just attraction. Something that could wreck him if he wasn’t careful.
He cleared his throat, stepping back. “Right. So about that peach cobbler ...”
They settled into an impromptu grits-and-cobbler picnic, and Cora started asking about his talk with Gramps.
“So, what did your grandfather say about Lolly?” she asked, frowning.
He let out a long sigh. “Not much. He just clammed up, said it was ancient history, and changed the subject.” He rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the conversation that had felt like spinning his wheels in thick mud. “I can’t figure it out. What was the deal between the two of them? It’s clear they knew each other because of that picture, but beyond that ...” He shrugged, the frustration clawing at him.
“Do you think it’s connected to the loan from Worthington?”
He shook his head. “I don’t see how it could be.” But the words felt hollow, and he knew Cora saw right through him.
He hesitated, avoiding her gaze as he traced circles on the countertop with his finger.If I tell her, will it change how she looks at me?His mouth went dry. But he’d already come this far, and it would be wrong to hold back now. She deserved to know the truth about who he was.
“But there’s more to it than I let on,” he admitted, the words dragging out of him. He met her eyes, and the concern he saw there made his chest tighten. “There’s...well, some history between Gramps and Tobias Worthington.”
Cora hesitated, then said, “I know there’s some bad blood between your families, but I’ve never known the details.” She tilted her head, watching him carefully. “What kind of history are we talking about?”
He shifted uncomfortably on the stool. “The kind of history you don’t put on display at family reunions.” He rubbed the back of his neck, stalling for a few precious seconds before finally letting the words tumble out. “About sixty years ago, at the Honeysuckle Festival, Gramps and Tobias got into a fight. Nobody knows exactly what started it, but it ended badly. And by badly, I don’t mean,Oops, I spilled punch on your shirtbadly, but more along the lines ofOh, no, there’s so much bloodbadly.”
Cora’s fist went in front of her mouth. “Your grandfather ...”
