Page 9 of Love & Rockets

He paused for a split second, then gave his head a business-like shake. “No, you overreacted, but I guess I can understand why—”

“You can?” She scoffed at the thought, but his oh-so-understanding gaze remained steady. “I can’t,” she said before he could offer up any excuses for her. “You’ve never been anything but decent to me, and I was a jerk. I apologize. I’m not crazy.” She twisted her fingers together, trying to figure out a way to explain without coming off as if she were bug-nuts. “Other than teachers, most men don’t pay a lot of attention to Grace. I mean, take the time to talk to her just to talk to her.” A hot flush prickled her cheeks as she rambled on, but apparently there was no stopping the crazy train once it was on a roll. “I mean, people should talk to her because she’s an amazing kid, but usually guys only talk to her if they...” She trailed off, figuring there was no good way to finish the sentence.

“Are potential pedophiles?” he prompted.

“Are trying to talk to me,” she blurted.

The correction was met by a startled huff of laughter and raised eyebrows. He pushed his glasses up with a knuckle and shifted in his seat. “Wow. Brian thinks I have a healthy ego, but you’re making me look downright insecure.”

Frustrated, embarrassed, and not at all comfortable with the intensity of his gaze, she pushed to her feet again. Yanking the order pad from the pocket of her apron, she gave her pen a couple of clicks to let him know she was locked and loaded. “Half-slab and a sandwich, no slaw?” she asked, reciting his usual order.

“Darla—”

“Is today a pie day or are you watching your girlish figure? Better tell me now. The peanut butter is a memory and the chocolate pecan is going fast.” She made a point of glancing toward the kitchen. “I suggest pre-ordering or you might be stuck with coconut cream, and that wouldn’t be pretty, would it?”

“I’m allergic—”

“—to coconut. I know,” she finished for him. “A joke. Bad joke.”

“I’m sorry if I upset you or Grace last night. I didn’t mean any harm.”

A dull throb pulsed behind her eyes. Pressing her fingers to the center of her forehead, she offered up a quick prayer he’d stop being decent and let her get on with her day. She’d apologized as she promised her daughter she would.

“She’s a bright girl. Good eye for detail,” he went on. “Her work on the centerpiece was really impressive.”

“Jake, please.”

But he was a man on a mission. “I’m sorry. I know it sounds stupid, but I hate those things. I have to go because I’m on the Board of Directors, but mostly they make me want to release the air locks, you know?”

This time she was the one who laughed. A girl couldn’t live with a space travel-obsessed girl like Grace Kennet and not know exactly what he meant. “Yeah, I know.”

His sober expression melted into a smile so bright she was fairly certain she shouldn’t look at him without a pinhole projector.

“She was the first sign of intelligent life I’d come across all night,” he said, a mischievous gleam in those mesmerizing eyes. “Don’t tell my mom I said so.”

“Weren’t your dad and Brian there, too?”

“And Brooke,” he added. “But other than Dad, none of them would have thought to add pea gravel to Saturn’s rings.”

“I bet Brian would have,” she challenged. “You forget, I was in class with him. The guy was completely compulsive.”

Jake snorted. “Okay, fine, maybe he would have, but he doesn’t count.” He looked up at her. “I liked your daughter, Darla. Not in a creepy way,” he added, holding up a hand to stave off further accusations. “You’ve got a good kid.”

All the nerves and tension fled. She knew she’d liked the guy before, but now he was on the brink of becoming one of her favorite people. Anyone who saw the magic in Gracie had to be all right. Top ten. With a bullet.

“I do, don’t I?” He simply nodded and her proud smile faded. “I’m glad you think so because I want to ask a favor of you.”

“A favor?”

He blinked and Darla found it hard not to be a little jealous of the sweep of unfairly thick dark lashes. Also difficult not to notice how full his lower lip looked when he frowned. “Grace is planning to do a project for the Space Camp thingy,” she said in a rush. Asking for help was right there with apologizing on her list of least favorite things to do. “She’s worried I hurt her chances. I didn’t blow her shot at the scholarship or anything, did I?”

Jake’s head jerked back. He looked like he’d taken a punch to the gut. “What? No. I mean, I don’t think so.” He scowled and stared down at the glass of tea in front of him as if he could find the answer by reading beads of condensation. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, your family does the whole Young Scientists thing, and I was thinking you might have some say.”

She winced, hating how uncertain she sounded. For the past twelve years, she’d been the one making all the decisions where Grace was concerned. But for once, she couldn’t give her kid what she wanted most. Most days, Darla avoided making direct eye contact with her wallet. She needed to grocery shop. The electric bill was due the following week and car insurance a few days later. Back to school time was always a shock to the system. The supply list grew longer every year. Gone were the days of Crayolas and watercolor sets. This year, she’d had to shell out for a scientific calculator, a geometry set, a slew of additional fees for an advanced placement course, and a surprise fifty-dollar technology fee to cover the insurance on school-provided tablets.

Then there was the school clothes shopping. For seven blessed autumns she’d had the pleasure of outfitting a bookish girl who couldn’t care less about her wardrobe. She’d outfitted them both at the MassiveMart. This year, her sweet-tempered daughter had apparently found her inner Kardashian. Suddenly, only a trip to the mall would do. Tops had to come from one store, and jeans from another. Darla draped a hand over her tired eyes as she relived the minor stroke she’d suffered when Grace presented her with her sneakers of choice.

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