“Isn’t Maurie our customer?” Julie asked Grant, her hands on her hips, as they stood in front of the hallway closet, where she kept her ski clothing.
“She is,” Grant said, not giving more than an inch of information. Julie would read into his request to borrow her ski clothing enough as it was.
“And you’re ... going skiing together?”
“We are.” Again Grant didn’t elaborate. Julie had set him up a few months ago with a perfectly awful blind date who would have put Godzilla’s bride to shame.
Julie blinked, then she tilted her head. “Was this your idea—”
“Sis,” Grant interrupted. “Can we skip the Twenty Questions? I’m tired.”
At this, Julie’s brows pulled together. “Are you okay?”
Her tone was loaded with more than a single question.
“Joy and I got into an argument last night,” he said. “She says that my phone calls, or more accurately my FaceTiming with Trent each night, gets him too wound up for bed. It takes him over an hour to fall asleep after.”
Julie nodded. She was well-versed in the Joy drama. “Call him earlier then.”
“That’s what I offered,” Grant said with a sigh. “But you know Joy. She has every minute of his day and night scheduled. When can a kid just be a kid?”
As if on cue, Julie’s son, Riley—who was a year older than Trent—let out a bloodcurdling scream. Julie didn’t even flinch.
“Is he okay?” Grant said.
“I set the Wi-Fi to kick off after an hour of his video gaming.” She shrugged.
Riley’s screaming had stopped, so Grant figured it wasn’t fatal.
Julie pulled out a white-and-blue ski jacket, then handed it to Grant. “How tall is she?”
“A couple of inches shorter than you.”
Next, Julie handed him light-blue ski pants, then a beanie and a pair of warm ski gloves. “She’ll want to layer. Do you want my skis and boots too?”
“We’ll rent,” Grant said. “I’m not sure what her shoe size is.”
Julie met his gaze.
Grant knew that look in her eyes. She still had questions, but she was using major control not to pester him.
“Okay, well, have fun,” Julie said.
“Mo-om!” her son called, his voice that whiney tone only a parent could tolerate.
“Shoo,” Julie said. “If he sees you, he’ll never let you leave.”
Grant chuckled softly. “Thanks for this.”
Julie nodded and folded her arms. “You know I want a full report.”
“Okay, Mom, we’ll see.” Grant winked, then gave his sister a quick hug. She’d always been in his corner. Through the divorce and generously helping with Trent.
Grant left Julie’s, then drove over to Maurie’s house. Her car was gone when he pulled up, and he wondered if she was at her store, painting. He’d heard her discuss colors with Taffy. Today Grant would install blinds in the living room, then begin the process of ripping out carpet.
As he entered the house, the aroma of apples and cinnamon greeted him. He had no doubt Maurie had been baking again. Perhaps she should open a café instead of a gift-basket store. “Hello?” he called. “Maurie? Taffy?”
No one responded, and the scent led him to the kitchen. It had been transformed over the past few days. Most of the moving clutter was gone, and Grant’s handiwork had made things look new again. In the center of the kitchen table was some sort of baked-apple goodness. A note with his name on it rested next to the dish.
Grant,
Help yourself, be back in a couple of hours.
—Maurie
So he helped himself. He was getting spoiled in the mornings with delicious food. If he kept this up, he’d have to go up a pant size. After finishing off the strudel or tart or whatever it was, he brought in the long, narrow boxes of blinds that were in the bed of his truck. Then he proceeded to take down the ancient curtains and their rods. Dust plumed around him, making him sneeze more than once.
He took the dilapidated curtains and rods to his truck, so he could find a bigger Dumpster to deposit them. He hoped that Maurie didn’t want to salvage them, because in his opinion, they were no loss.
By the time Grant had the blinds installed and had started on the carpet removal, Maurie and Taffy arrived at the house.
“Brought lunch,” Taffy announced, holding up sacks from the Main Street Café. “Hope you’re hungry.” She breezed past him and headed into the kitchen.
“Sure,” Grant said, and he looked over at Maurie, who’d come in behind Taffy.
Maurie’s dark waves were pulled into a high ponytail, and she had blue paint smudges on her fitted T-shirt and yoga pants.
“Painting?” he asked.
She smiled, her green eyes scanning him. He noticed the appreciation, and that only made him hope Taffy would stay in the kitchen for a bit.
“Looks different in here,” Maurie said, her gaze sliding to the window and the new blinds.
“Like it?” Grant asked, moving toward Maurie.
“I do.” A small smile played on those pink lips of hers.
“Thanks for the apple—stuff—whatever it is.”
Maurie smiled fully now. “Streusel.”
“Whatever. It was delicious.” He was close enough to touch her now, but she reached for his hand. That gesture alone sent a warm shiver through him.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Slowly, she linked their fingers, and the slide of her warm skin against him created another shiver.
He really wished Taffy would go do a few errands on her own. He could hear her in the kitchen, opening drawers or something. Maybe he could give Maurie a brief kiss, one that would help with the burning building inside of him. He leaned down, and Maurie closed her eyes. Grant took that as a good sign.
He pressed his mouth against hers, softly, with only their hands linking. Although he wanted to draw her closer, to feel more of her, to deepen their kiss, he kept the kiss brief.
When he lifted his head, Maurie kept her eyes closed for a few more seconds. He loved the way her long lashes lay against her cheek, just above a few of her freckles.
She opened her eyes, and the soft smile on her face made him want to kiss her again.
“Get it while it’s warm,” Taffy called from the kitchen.
Maurie bit her lip, gazing up at him as a faint blush stole across her cheeks. “So...”
“So ... I guess you were painting?”
“Yeah,” she said. “We made some good progress.”
“You’re okay to paint before you officially sign the closing docs?” Grant asked.
Maurie shrugged. “Jeff Finch gave us the green light.”
Grant drew her just a little closer, because it was impossible to stop at one kiss with Maurie.
“I don’t know about you guys,” Taffy said, her voice suddenly in the room. She’d come out of the kitchen. “But soup is better hot, or at least warm.”
Grant didn’t move his gaze from Maurie. “Message received.”
Taffy laughed, then turned on her heel and disappeared again.
Maurie sighed and placed her hand on Grant’s chest. That wasn’t going to help him keep her at arm’s length.
“My roommate can be annoying,” she said.
“I don’t mind.” He reluctantly stepped away. “But that soup does smell good. And my sister’s ski clothes are in that bag over there.”
Maurie turned to look at the bag. “Okay, I’ll try on the stuff after we eat.”
They walked into the kitchen, and Grant sat at the table with Taffy and Maurie.
He found it amusing how Taffy and Maurie teased each other, Taffy about how Maurie was so picky about her food, and Maurie accusing Taffy of eating only processed and chemically infused food.
“This is good,” Maurie said about the squash soup they were eating. “I would have used toasted pine nuts and freshly grated parmesan as a garnish though.”
“Only you would garnish soup,” Taffy said with a smirk. “Soup’s soup.”
Maurie turned her green eyes on Grant. “What do you think?”
“About the soup?”
“About the garnish,” Taffy said.
Grant looked from Taffy to Maurie. “Is there a right and wrong answer? Because I definitely want to give the right answer.”
“Garnish or no garnish,” Taffy said. “Simple as that.”
He looked down at his soup. Squash wasn’t his favorite, but it was decent. “Can’t say I’ve ever considered the choice.”
Taffy laughed. “See, Maurie. Two against one.”
Maurie smirked. And then she grasped Grant’s hand under the table and proceeded to eat with her left hand.
Grant was pretty sure Taffy knew what was going on.
This was nice, Grant decided. More than nice. He didn’t know why now, of all months or all years, he was allowing himself to entertain thoughts of a future with more than just work, his son, and fighting with Joy. Maurie had been unexpected, and Grant was surprisingly fine with that.
Taffy finished her soup first and headed to her room, leaving them alone.
Maurie still held Grant’s hand, and she turned to him. “What time do we need to leave for skiing?”
“About three-thirty,” he said. “Does that still work?”
“Yeah,” Maurie said.
The look in her eyes was so warm, so trusting, that Grant felt a twinge of guilt resurface. Would she look at him like that if she knew about his role that last night in Pine Valley? But he didn’t have time to dwell on the thought for long, because Maurie leaned close and kissed him.
It was amazing how fast his pulse could thrum when they kissed. Before things could get any more intense, he drew away. He did have a job to do, and taking part of the afternoon off to go skiing would cut back on what he needed to finish today. “You’re way too distracting, Maurie Ledbetter.”
She smiled. “You’re kind of irresistible, Grant Shelton.”
His heart flipped.
The sound of a door opening—probably Taffy’s—prevented Grant from following his instinct to kiss Maurie again.
“Back to work, I guess,” he said, squeezing her hand, then rising from the table.
He felt Maurie’s gaze on him as he left the kitchen, and he couldn’t help the smile that seemed to be a permanent feature on his face.