Page 38 of First Love, Second Draft

Rachel:Really? That’s so romantic!

Grace:How is it romantic that the only man I’ve ever kissed is my EX-HUSBAND?!

Rachel:You’re the romance writer. You figure it out.

Grace:If I could figure it out, I wouldn’t be stuck right now.

Rachel:Are we talking about your story or Noah?

Grace:Hey, I’m supposed to be the one asking the questions.

Rachel:Sorry! Got any more?

Grace:Just one. Do you think it ever makes sense for a woman to choose safety over love?

Rachel:Absolutely! But I also think it would make for a dreadfully boring story. (We’re still talking about Noah, aren’t we?)

Grace:SO... Laundry detergent, you say?

18

Okay, time for Noah to up his game. If he wanted another shot with Gracie, he needed to make a move and somehow get her to talk about a possible future between them. Which had been the plan earlier today until he’d gotten distracted by all that Luke nonsense.

Well, Gracie might want to play it safe, but Noah couldn’t afford to. Not if he wanted to win her back. He’d waited long enough. Time for them to talk—whether she was ready to take a break or not.

Something told him she was not.

Noah shook his head at her from the doorway. Good grief, she’d been pecking away at that keyboard the past eight hours with nothing more to sustain her than one measly piece of toast. She didn’t even doctor it up with jam. She couldn’t go on like this. Nobody could go on like this. Not even a writer on a deadline.

“Gracie—”

“Just some tea, thanks. You can leave it on the desk.”Peck, peck, peck.

He braced both hands on the doorframe of the spare bedroom. The room they’d both assumed would get converted into a nursery someday. It took them several years to learn the hard truth that sometimes,somedaynever arrives.

“It’s time to give it a rest, babe.” Other than one bathroom break—the woman must have the bladder of a tank engine—shehadn’t vacated that seat in hours. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Sure. Just need to finish this section first.” She reached her fingers beneath her reading glasses to rub her eyes, then went back to pecking at the keyboard. Another pair of glasses peeked out from the rat’s nest growing on top of her head. He didn’t have to search her robe pockets to know he’d find another pair there, easy. She collected reading glasses the same way she collected ChapStick. One of every color. One in every room. Because goodness knew she couldn’t keep track of any of them.

“You’re going to develop one of those pressure sores on your butt if you don’t get up.”

She flapped a hand in his direction, then went back to peck-peck-pecking. “I just took a break not that long ago.”

“Gracie, the last time you took a break from that computer, New Kids on the Block were new.”

Her lips twitched. Not much, but he saw it. And it was enough to encourage him. “Last time you took a break,ALFwas on prime time.”

“Knock it off.” Her lips swiped to the side in an attempt not to smile.

“There were only threeStar Warsmovies.”

“Get out of here.”

“I could dance the Running Man.” Noah pumped his arms and legs, dancing in place. “Still got the moves.” His left shoulder twinged in protest. “Okay, maybe not.” He stopped and massaged his shoulder.

But her laughter had already bubbled out—even if she immediately did press her lips together afterward and act like it didn’t happen. “I’ll let you know when I’m hungry, okay?”

No. Not okay. Noah leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest. “You’re sort of forcing my hand here.”

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