Page 5 of First Love, Second Draft

Until the front door to the cottage squeaked open and clapped shut.Oh wonderful.Just what she needed. To meet the new renter with a blotchy face covered in snot. On the bright side, maybe the sight would scare him off from ever bothering her again.

“Is that the nice guy you told me about?” Gracie tried lifting her head to get a good look at him.

Matt squished her face back against his shoulder.

Clutching the back of her head with one hand, he began patting her on the back as if he were burping a baby and had no idea how to do it. Which in a weird way brought her more comfort than anything else had so far. She really did love her one and only nephew.

“So listen, Aunt Gracie. About the renter...” Matt cleared his throat, slapping her back now as if she were choking. “I know you said you wouldn’t need any help, but—”

Footsteps approached, crunching over dry leaves. The closer the steps came, the faster Matt talked.

“The doctor said you’re going to need help. Especially the next few days. Maybe longer. What if you fell? You could lay there for hours, and nobody would know. You could die and nobody would know. You need someone close by. Someone to help take care of you. And let’s face it—my mom’s not a caregiver. We all know that. You need someone who can help you up the stairs. Fix you food. Give you a bath. And that’s not me. I love you, but I’m not giving you a bath.”

Gracie finally managed to tug her face away from Matt’s shoulder long enough to gasp in a deep breath. “Considering you just about suffocated me, yeah, I’d say you’re not exactly caregiver material either.”

Lucky for her she didn’t need a caregiver at all. Which she was about to point out to Matt when he said, “So you understand then.”

The back of Gracie’s neck tingled. “Understand what?”

“Why I did what I did.”

The tingles grew sharper as Gracie held her nephew’s gaze. “What did you do?”

When a throat cleared behind her, Matt didn’t have to answer. She knew. “You little Benedict Arnold.” The back of Gracie’s neck no longer tingled. It blazed.

If Gracie had a will, she’d write Matt out of it first thing tomorrow. She never did care for her one and only nephew. “Look me in the eye right now and tell me the nice guy you rented my cottage to isnotmy ex-husband.”

Matt looked everywhere. The house. The maple tree. The snot stain on his shirt. Everywhere but her eyes. “He’ll take care of you.”

She shook her head.

“He still loves you.”

She shook her head harder.

“He won’t mind helping you out with a sponge bath?”

There weren’t enough pies in the world to smack her nephew in the face with at this moment.

“Please, Aunt Gracie. Just give him a chance.”

“A chance,” she scoffed. “Are you crazy? Hey, where are you going? You can’t leave me. Matt, don’t you dare—”

Her evil nephew dared, backing out of her reach. Gracie didn’t have time to stumble after him before two arms circled her from behind. When her knees buckled, she didn’t know if it was because of the pain in her right hip shooting down to her groin or the much-too-familiar voice speaking next to her ear.

“Don’t worry, babe, I’ve got you.”

Gracie squeezed her eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening. It didn’t make sense. Somebody call back the boys from the firehouse. What was Noah doing here?

And how on earth was she already back in his arms?

Gracie glared at the sky, grinding her teeth as she grumbled, “This is not what I meant when I asked you to bring back the zing.”

3

Noah kicked the door shut behind him as he scanned the interior of the house he still thought of as home—even if he hadn’t stepped foot inside of it for nearly five years. “Place hasn’t changed much.”

“Except for the dirty boot print on the door,” Gracie muttered in between panted breaths. Her thin frame sagged further against him with each step from the entryway into the family room, furnished with a new beige sectional and leather recliner. Other than that, same white shiplap walls. Same dark wooden floors. Same hodgepodge of black-and-white photos and musty-smelling books lining the built-in arched bookshelves.

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