Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Grant
Igreet Sam with a kiss on her cheek. It’s probably too much, but it happens before I can stop myself, and the way she turns toward the contact makes my stomach flip.
“You look great.” Again, it’s out of my mouth before I check the impulse.
She smooths down her apron. “In my diner uniform?”
When her gaze locks with mine, the light blush on her cheeks makes me feel utterly weak for her. And damn if that’s not wildly new for me. It shouldn’t feel so unfamiliar, especially because I’ve been having exactly this response to her since almost the moment I met her.
That said, it is new. Because at this point, I know she’s beautiful, but I also know so much more. She’s strong, determined, generous, and thoughtful. She’s brave as hell, and while I have no right to it, I’m proud of her for the life she’s setting up for herself.
“Yes. You look good in everything, though.” I mean it.
She shakes her head. “Well, I like your uniform, too.”
Her eyes snag on my hat, then trickle down over me, and not for the first time, I’m keenly aware I do not mind her eyes on me at all.
“That’s good, since it’s the main feature of my wardrobe.” I’m not sure when I became a man who talks about his wardrobe, but here we are. I’m too damn happy to be talking with her, especially considering the context.
That thought sobers me right up. “So, you take the lead here, and I’m here for backup.”
Her dark eyes flick back and forth between mine. I wish I could read whatever’s going on in there, but no such luck.
The door of the little house where Davis’s practice is located bangs open and Eirinn storms out. She doesn’t notice us at first because she’s wrestling with her purse, trying to pull it over her shoulder, then halts in her steps and scrunches her eyes closed like she’s in excruciating pain.
“Eirinn, are you okay?” I don’t want to interrupt the moment, but this is not her. I can count on one hand the times I've seen her this flustered, and at least three of them were due to postpartum hormones.
Her gaze snaps up and her eyes go wide. “Grant. Sam.”
There’s no warmth or enthusiasm, and her cheeks flood with heat.
“You good? Is Davis okay?” I step toward her, instinctively moving to help.
“All good. Yeah.” Her voice shakes and she sniffs hard. “Um, sorry, I have to run.”
She rushes past me and Sam in a whirl of nervous, odd energy I can’t place and that definitely has my hackles raised. What is happening?
“She seemed really upset.” Sam’s voice is barely above a whisper.
“She did.” I’ll follow up on that, but right now, it’s time to see if we can solve at least one problem. “Let’s go talk to Davis, and I’ll check on her later.”
The bounce in Sam’s step has me fighting a smile.
“I’m so relieved. I mean, I know he’s nice because I’ve met him, and Evie said he’s been super helpful with her situation, but I still just…” She shakes her head. “Andrew being a lawyer has not led me to the conclusion that lawyers are inherently trustworthy, honest people.”
“I suspect you feel the same way about law enforcement.” Based on how wary she was of me the day we met, I know it.
“True. Yeah. I guess you’ve shown me the other side of that spectrum, too.”
She bites her lip in a way that draws all my attention and makes me wish I could do the same.
“I’m glad.”
“Me, too.”
We walk on, back toward Jerry’s. I don’t want to say goodbye yet, and it might be too soon, but I’ve been hoping maybe we’d have that talk we’ve been putting off.
“Hey, do you—”
“Would you want to—”
We both halt, too polite for people who’ve known each other for months now. At the same time, I know why I’m nervous, and I wonder if it’s the same reason she is.
“Go ahead.” She waves her hand ahead of us like the path is clear for me.
“I was going to ask if you have time to get lunch or coffee before you head back.”
Her smile flashes. “I have a half hour. We could do coffee. I could go for one of May’s lattes about now, for sure.”
The beauty of the small town is we’re less than a five-minute walk to Corner Coffee, and it’s only another five before we’ve ordered, paid, and are seated with our drinks.
“Why am I not surprised you ordered an americano? It’s such a manly drink.” She dips her head to sip her foamy latte.
“Manly? Don’t let Eirinn hear you say that. It’s her drink, too.” I raise a brow at her.
“Ah. Well. I take it back, then. It’s a drink for very serious people.”
I nod sagely. “Exactly. Only the most serious among us, save Dec, who drinks only the frilliest of drinks, and Finn, who will only drink black coffee and nothing else.”
She blinks. “Wow. What about Mac and May? Do you know their coffee orders?”
“Mac’s a black coffee guy most days, but he loves a decent cappuccino. And May’s order’s always changing. I think that comes with the territory, though.”
We glance over at my sister, who’s currently beaming at a customer while they pay her.
She’s done an incredible job with this place, and it’s almost time for her seasonal help to come on for the summer.
She might not ever get close to admitting it, but I can see the wear and tear on her.
She’s tired, but she loves this place too much to admit that only having two part-time helpers isn’t enough.
“That makes sense.”
We watch May for another minute, and eventually, she turns toward us and makes a face that scares both of us away. We chuckle and sip our drinks, and she glances at her watch.
“So, listen. We need to talk about our—our friendship.” Sam stumbles over her words, and pink tinges her cheeks.
“Yes. I’d like that.”
She swallows and squares her shoulders. “Good. So. Um.” She traces the edge of her coffee mug with the tip of her index finger.
I reach out and cover her hand, sliding around until I’m holding hers. “Whatever you want to say, please feel free. You’re safe with me.”
She stills completely, her eyes focused on our hands joined across the small table. When she shifts her gaze to meet mine, my heart kicks like it always does when our eyes connect.
“I think I finally know that. And so I want to know if you’re still interested in something else with me—maybe something more. It’s no problem if…”
Is she saying what I think she is?
“Yes. I am. That hasn’t changed. And I can keep waiting if you need more time.
This doesn’t feel like a ticking clock to me.
” That’s a lie to a degree, because I feel that clock ticking in my chest, but it’s not counting down until my interest expires.
Rather, it’s ticking toward the start of something between us.
She sits taller in her chair and squeezes my hand. “I’m ready.”
“Then I am, too.”
Anticipation spreads through me and it’s all I can do not to haul her out of her seat and kiss her. Instead, I cup my hand around hers and bring her palm to my lips. I press a kiss to the warm center and hear her breath catch.
“I’ll take as much as you’ll give me, so you decide. You’re in charge.” And I’ll make sure she has no doubts she’s safe to do whatever she needs to, even if it means telling me to take a hike.
Her chin wobbles, but she smiles through it. “Thank you. That’s exactly how I know I’m ready to try with you.”