* * *
Confused and humiliated, Grant kicked the car door shut with the heel of his suede loafer.
What had just happened? Ever since the race yesterday, Eliza had been avoiding him. It was almost as if…
Grant paused halfway down the slate walkway, a weight settling in the pit of his stomach.
Oh, no…
The bitter realization fell over him like a dark shadow.
Eliza had discovered he still had feelings for her! And this was her way of rejecting him.
Pain stabbed his heart, and Grant ran his fingers through his hair, trying to collect himself.
Could it really be over between them? Less than twenty-four hours ago, it seemed like their lives were just beginning. He’d been almost certain he’d felt a spark, a strong electrical current that ran both ways. What had snuffed it out so swiftly?
Dragging himself up the porch steps, Grant didn’t even notice his father reading on the wicker bench overlooking the front garden. Lost in his thoughts, Grant skulked past him into the house, still agonizing over every syllable he’d exchanged with Eliza.
Could he be misreading things? Even if Eliza didn’t want to get back together, why did she have to push him away from Ben so fiercely? While only a friend, Luke seemed to fill the role of father figure in the boy’s life. And, in some ways, so did Jack and Reed. Why couldn’t Grant be another one of Ben’s role models? Unless…
Suddenly queasy, Grant yanked open the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of sarsaparilla, popping off the cap on the edge of the counter. Leaning against the sink, he threw his head back and chugged, waiting for the subtle licorice flavor of the soft drink to work its calming magic on his churning stomach.
Who was he kidding? Grant couldn’t blame Eliza for not wanting him around her son. His rapport with his own father was fraught with tension and bitterness, dysfunction Eliza had witnessed with her own eyes on numerous occasions. That type of toxicity was bound to worm its way into other relationships—the exact reason Grant never wanted kids. He didn’t trust himself to do things differently.
So why did being around Ben make him want to try? Before coming back to Poppy Creek, he’d been content to remain child-free for the rest of his life. But over the last several days, something had shifted. He couldn’t explain it. But deep in his gut, something about the possibility of being cut out of Ben’s life felt… personal.
“Everything all right?” Stan appeared in the doorway.
“Just peachy,” Grant muttered dryly, taking another swig of sarsaparilla. Realizing it was empty, he tossed the glass bottle into the recycling bin and grabbed another one from the fridge.
Propping the cap against the counter, Grant attempted to pop it off like the first, but it wouldn’t budge. Frustration building in his chest, Grant yanked open kitchen drawers, rummaging through them in search of a bottle opener. “Where’s Mom?” he growled, feeling angry with the world.
“Knitting club.” Stan removed the keychain clipped to his belt loop and tossed it to Grant. “There’s a bottle opener in the Swiss army knife.”
“Thanks,” Grant mumbled, snapping off the bottle cap before tossing the keys back to his dad.
“Rough day?”
“You could say that.” Grant downed another gulp, the carbonation burning the back of his throat.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.” Grant stared at the tile floor, realizing he’d forgotten to remove his shoes when he’d entered the house.Fantastic.As if he wasn’t already on his mother’s bad side lately. Although, she’d be happy to hear about the day’s altercation. It seemed that his mother and Eliza were finally on the same side.
The thought fueled Grant’s irritation, causing the words to tumble from his lips before he could stop them. “I showed up at Ben’s school today. For Career Day. Heaskedme to speak in front of his class, by the way.” Grant placed extra emphasis on the invitation, a dull ache settling around his heart as he recalled Ben’s hopeful expression when he’d made his request. “So, there I was, giving up a few hours out of my day for a kid that’s not even mine, and guess what?”
Pacing back and forth across the kitchen, Grant didn’t wait for Stan to respond before blurting, “Eliza tells me to get lost.”
“She actually said that?” Stan’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“Well, not in so many words, but basically. She told me I had no reason to be there because Career Day is for parents.”
“I see,” Stan said softly.
Something in the cautious edge to his father’s tone irked Grant, feeding into his agitated state of mind. “What?”
“Nothing.”
