Page 25 of Homecoming

Angela nodded slowly. “From everyone.”

“What kind of situation,” she asked.

Angela tilted her head, obviously debating her answer. “It’s up to them to tell you that. I can’t. Just know that it was bad and that they’re all recovering. Even Owen. So it might take him a little longer to open up.”

Grace nodded, taking in her words. “Okay. I can be patient.”

Angela winked at her. “I have a feeling he’ll be worth it.”

Grace glanced at the front window. There was a shine on the glass, but she could feel him looking at her. That look made her jittery inside. He may not want to date her, but she knew that when a man looked at a woman a certain way, the attraction was there. “You may be right,” she said eventually. “Let’s go get a coffee.”

Black straightenedas the women left the store. Angela was a beautiful woman in her own right, but Grace took all of his attention. Even when he glanced away from her, he could feel her warmth and energy as she stopped in front of him, bundled in her bright coat.

“We’re going to get a coffee, if you’d like to join us,” she said, then her mouth tightened, like she expected him to tell her no.

“I’d like a coffee,” he said, and motioned for the women to precede him down the street.

Grace and Angela fell into step with each other as Grace led them to The Bean Scene, across from the courthouse on the square. The place had fantastic coffee, but every time he’d been in here, it had been packed. Today was no different. There were twenty-three people in the small shop. It was Christmas Eve eve, and obviously the crowds were out doing last-minute shopping.

“Tell me what you want and you guys grab that table,” he said, motioning toward the corner. They each related what theywanted, and he moved to the line. From his peripheral, he watched Grace wade through the crowd, responding to greetings from every direction. The townspeople loved her.

When he returned with their orders, he realized how tiny the table was accommodating three people. Owen sat down, his knees brushing against Grace’s. A shiver raced through him at that innocuous touch, and he shifted a little to give her space, but not completely away. He liked the feel of her warmth against his own. He rested his hat on his opposite knee, to be polite.

“I feel like you’ve been sitting on a treasure, Black,” Angela said, and he glanced at her sharply. She wore a small, sly smile, and he knew she didn’t mean the town or the coffee shop.

“It is stunning, isn’t it,” he said, lifting his cup to his lips.

“Indeed,” she agreed.

“And you arrived at the perfect time,” Grace said, her eyes flicking between them as if she sensed they weren’t talking about the town. “Whisper Hollow is the most beautiful in the wintertime. February/ March time it gets slushy and muddy, but then it brings on a fabulous spring. We have a vendor fair around Easter to die for. And there’s so much to do in the summer.”

Angela grinned. “You sound like you work for the chamber of Congress.”

Grace laughed, her eyes shining. “Sorry.”

“Did she tell you she wants to be mayor?” Owen said.

Angela’s eyes widened. “No way! That’s incredible!”

Grace actually blushed a little, and Owen stared because she was so stinking cute. She shrugged a little. “What can I say? I love this little town. And I see some things that can be changed to make things better for the community.”

Angela looked between the two of them. “You’re both planning communities. Huh… You have a lot in common.”

Owen had never thought about it that way, but he supposed they did. Before he could think better of it, he lifted a brow atGrace. “Maybe we can get together sometime and talk about our communities.”

Grace blinked, shocked, then her cheeks went pink again. “I would love that,” she said softly. “You tell me when.”

Owen wanted to reach across the table and pull her in for a kiss, but that would probably be too much for this sedate coffee shop. He stared at her for a long moment, watching her irises dilate and her heartbeat pick up beneath the thin skin of her neck. Then a pink flush rolled up that skin and into her face. Her body was responding to him, and he hadn’t even done anything other than look at her and invite her to a vague meeting.

Owen dropped his gaze to give himself a chance to get his own body under control, because her response had spiked his. It was like now that he’d given himself permission to engage, his libido was taking over. Blood pounded in his ears, and his jeans had become uncomfortable.

It was ridiculous. He was thirty-four years old, and he’d never responded to a woman this way. And certainly not in public!

Turning, he looked out the window, but that made his knees brush against hers again. He shifted his chair back an inch and mumbled a sorry when he bumped the person behind him. That reminded him how many people were in here, and a hot flush rolled over him. He suddenly needed to get out. It was too much, and his emotions were putting him on edge. His heart raced.

He pushed up from the chair. “Excuse me,” he growled, and wove his way out of the shop. He knew people were probably watching him, but he didn’t care.

Once on the street, away from the crowd, he was better. He drew in great gulps of cold air. And he cursed himself for having that reaction. For having any reaction. He was usually pretty good in crowds. Better than he’d ever been. It wasn’ta normal day, though. His anxiety about Grace had fed other uncertainties.

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