Page 23 of Eight Years Gone

“It’s the absolute truth.”

She cleared her throat. “So, what are people telling you about the guy with the Corvette while you pop them back into place?”

“That you two had a thing.”

She nodded. “We had a thing for a long time.”

“Is that going to be a problem for us?”

She adamantly shook her head, needing to believe that was true. “We had a thing for a long time, but that was a long time ago.”

He sent her another small smile as they both grew quiet. “I guess this is where things tend to get awkward: how to end the date.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I thought it was just me.”

He laughed. “Is a kiss on the cheek too forward?”

She shook her head. “No, that’s okay.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her skin before he eased slightly back. Touching her jaw, he studied her lips as he held her gaze.

She let her eyes close as he moved in, responding to the gentle warmth of his mouth against hers. He was different—the feel of his lips and his taste. Even when Jagger had been tender, there had been a boldness—a heat—to their embraces.

Abruptly, she pulled back as her thoughts wandered to a cold Pennsylvania night when her car had broken down and everything had changed.

Ben took another step away. “I’m sorry, Grace.”

She smiled. “It’s okay.”

He shook his head. “You said slow. That wasn’t slow.”

“I didn’t stop you.” She touched his arm. “Thank you for a lovely night—for a lovely kiss.”

He nodded. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Good night.”

He held up his hand in a wave as he started toward his car.

She unlocked her door, letting herself inside as Ben settled behind the wheel. Waving again, she smiled before she shut the door, resting her forehead against the doorframe as she huffed out an irritated breath. “Way to go, Grace.”

Sighing, she shook her head. Why hadn’t she let herself enjoy the stupid kiss? Why was Jagger constantly on her mind? Even during dinner, she’d caught herself looking out the window by their booth, half expecting to see him staring at her as he leaned against his car.

She’d waited for him for eight years. Why did he have to come back now when she finally saw her chance to move on?

Six

Grace glanced at her watch as she unlocked Simplicity’s front door. Locking herself back inside, she headed for the counter to drop off her purse and the thermal cup holding her chai tea.

Hesitating with the light shawl she’d paired with boots, snug dark blue jeans, and another one of her favorite cami-type tops, she kept it in place, remembering that her back and shoulders looked like hell.

“Okay. Let’s do this,” she muttered, heading toward the back.

There were eight hundred things to accomplish today, which meant getting to the store an hour earlier than usual.

The arrangements for tomorrow’s country club luncheon needed to be processed and then arranged on top of the everyday orders.

She took two steps then stopped, frowning when she realized Aunt Maggie hadn’t turned on her usual Top 40 tunes, and whatever work was getting done was happening at a much faster pace than Maggie could move with her cane.

---