Page 3 of Falling for the Grumpy Stranger

He nodded, turned around and headed to the baskets of bread. I scuttled over to the produce corner for some apples and to hide. I stared at the array of red and green apples while trying to recall what I’d said in my ridiculous quest for pistachios. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, I tried to tell myself at first, but the wordssuckered,strangeandgrimtrotted through my head in horrific neon lights. I’d broken one of Nonna’s rules—if you have nothing nice to say, then zip the lips. She was always right, and now I’d embarrassed myself and probably hurt the man’s feelings. He paid for a loaf of bread and a block of cheddar cheese, then walked out without a word.

I hurried to the counter. “You two could have said something—a little warning would have been nice.” I was scolding them, but I had no one to blame but myself.

Gemma glanced out the window. “That’ll teach you not to climb on my shelves. I’ve never seen him before. He certainly does have that brooding, dark mysterious aura about him. Do you think he’s the one—the one who bought Grimstone Manor?”

“It’s got to be him,” Renee said. “Not very friendly, was he?”

“No, but he made up for it in appearance.” Gemma waved her hand in front of her face. “Hot, hot, hot. Always liked that type.”

Renee gave me a fake, sympathetic frown. “I guess Ella’s already made an enemy of the man.” There was a little too muchglee in her tone. Typical Renee. “I sure would like to know more about him. I mean—what if he’s dangerous? What if he’s hiding here because he killed someone? Did you see those scars on his arm?”

“Roast beef and ham,” Rob said suddenly. He’d finally stepped away from the deli counter, and he was pleased, satisfied that he’d made his decision. We all stared at him.

“What’s wrong?” He reached up to straighten his fedora. “Something on my face?” He patted his forehead and cheek.

Renee rolled her eyes. “You seriously didn’t see the tall, dark stranger just now? He could have been an axe murderer and taken all of us out with a few good blows while you contemplated whether to buy pastrami or roast beef.”

“How do you know he was an axe murderer?” Rob asked. “Did he have an axe?”

Renee huffed and waved her hand at him. “Roast beef and ham, please, Gemma. A half pound each.” She squashed Rob’s attempt to protest with an admonishing look. “The doctor said you eat too much fat, so a half pound of each is plenty.” Renee glanced at the basket in my hand. “You can check Ella out first. I’ve got a few other things I need.”

I stepped up to the counter. Gemma was holding back a grin. “Go ahead and say it,” I said.

She laughed. “You should have seen your face when you turned around and saw him behind you. And I did clear my throat to get your attention, but you were too focused on the nuts.” She held up the bag of pistachios.

“Those might be the last pistachios I ever eat. Not worth the climb … or the humiliation. Do you think he heard everything I said?”

“Unless he’s hard of hearing. But don’t worry about it. Something tells me Whisper Cove’s newest citizen won’t hang around town too much. There was something about him?—”

“Something strange, right?” I asked.

Gemma shook her head in thought. “No. Sad. He seemed sad.” She shrugged. “Maybe strange, too. Let’s face it—he bought Grimstone Manor. I heard the boys at the barbershop have a betting pool predicting when that old house is finally going to collapse and slip down the hillside.”

“Maybe he’ll fix it up. There’s a cool old house under all the loose shingles, broken windows and decaying wood.” I paid for my groceries. “I hope I don’t ever run into him again, though, so I don’t have to relive the embarrassment. So long, Gemma.”

“I’m sure he’ll forget all about it,” Gemma said with a laugh as I walked out.

Chapter Three

ELLA

The fog never broke, and it became more opaque with each passing hour. Isla was with Luke and Aria was with her new boyfriend, the incredible Declan Sullivan. Dex, as we called him, had stumbled into Aria’s life unexpectedly. He’d floated into the harbor on a renovated tugboat. He was in Whisper Cove to help a friend who had gotten into trouble and was suffering the grave consequences of his own bad decisions. In the end, Dex saved his friend and found his true love in our small town. My sister, Aria, was not an easy person to please or impress, but he’d managed to do both in a short span of time. Now, Dex had an apartment in the next town, and he got up every morning to work in Aria’s café. He’d told Aria that for once in his adult life, he felt like he belonged. It was fun seeing my usually level-headed oldest sister wander around with stars in her eyes. Dex was certainly worthy of those stars.

Layla carried a plate with cheese and crackers out to the blanket I’d spread on the floor. The fire crackled as it turned the wooden logs into glowing piles of embers. The cottage’s old bones made it especially susceptible to extreme weather, and tonight was no different. We’d all be buried deep under layers ofblankets, soft flannels and thick socks tonight. But for now, we were quite cozy and warm in front of the blazing hearth.

Ava brought out a bottle of chilled white wine and the bowl of pistachio nuts. “So, you said there was quite a story behind these pistachios.” She sat down and wrapped her long legs up like a pretzel. “Only our sister Ella could have an entire story to go around a bag of nuts.”

“Not surprising at all.” Layla pulled a lavender scrunchie off her wrist and twisted her thick copper hair into a loose knot. “Remember the orange incident?” Layla quickly waved her hand. “That’s right. You were somewhere across the globe, Borneo or Singapore or Timbuktu or one of those places. Ella was at the market buying produce. She was trying to put an orange in her shopping bag, but it missed and rolled out the door where it promptly began its escape by racing down the sidewalk. Ella chased after it. The orange bounced off Walter Hudson’s shoe and nearly pitched the old guy over the top of his walker. The deflection off Walter’s shoe caused the orange to make a sharp right turn, where it rolled through traffic only to be flattened by a car. And thus was the long and tragic tale of Oscar the Orange. He tasted freedom for a few minutes only to meet a grisly demise. I’m paraphrasing but I think I got most of that right.” Layla looked at me for approval.

“Yes, and I think that’s the last time we need to hear about the adventures of Oscar the Orange. This is a little more intriguing. Someone purchased Grimstone Manor, a man—a somewhat mysterious man—who just happened to be tall enough to grab the pistachios off the top shelf. That encounter, in itself, is a humiliating tale, so I’ll tell it another time when I’m feeling cocky and confident.”

Layla finished a bite of cheese. “Wow, is that place even inhabitable?” She leaned forward. “Wait, more importantly—is he a single man, and is he handsome?”

“I have no idea if he’s single, and yes, I suppose he would fall into the handsome category.”

Layla scoffed. “Praise indeed from the family wordsmith.” She picked up a slice of apple and dunked it into the peanut butter jar.

“All right, I’ll embellish on my previous comment. He’s tall with deep golden hair and brown eyes that can look right through to your soul. And deep inhissoul there’s something that has stolen his smile, but something tells me, when it breaks free, it will be nothing short of spectacular. And there’s a scar on his left arm that doesn’t look like one of those ‘oops, I touched the boiling soup pot when I was eight’ scars. It’s a scar that is a story in itself. And that’s all I can say from the short and entirely embarrassing interaction where I called the man ‘strange and grim.’ Not directly to his face, of course, but I don’t think it matters.”

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