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“But it’s the only restaurant you’ve got here! What the heck do you guys do when everything shuts down by eight or nine at night?” I laugh.
Craig purses his lips, failing to suppress the grin that pulls at the corners of his mouth, and gives me a s
ideways glance. “We don’t need nightclubs and bars to keep ourselves entertained, city girl.” He leans in, letting his tongue run across his bottom lip before he whispers, “I can think of a few ways to spend an evening after everything shuts down, Meg.”
I gasp as his breath caresses across my cheek, hot and damp. Heat floods my cheeks, and my heart bangs against my ribcage. My body is completely in tune with him, crying out for the promise in his innuendo, to experience fully exactly what he might be referring to. My mind is just as keen, but at least it’s holding on by a thread, keeping me from saying or doing something I might regret later.
I’ve just about regained my composure when I realize that Craig is still dangerously close, his gaze fixed on my lips, only inches from his. There’s no way he couldn’t have heard me gasp, and judging by how flushed my face is, he knows damn well he’s affecting me.
“W-we should go,” I whisper suddenly. “You probably need to pick up your son, and I don’t want to keep you.”
Just like that, the moment is shattered and I can breathe again as he moves away from me. “Right. I’ve actually got another appointment coming in before I’m done for the day, then I can pick up Ellis. But I’ll walk you back to the Chronicle, seeing as it’s on the way to my shop.”
The awkwardness hangs between us like a veil. I’m not sure what I feel worse about—freaking out because I thought he might kiss me, or mentioning his son in order to do it. “Ellis,” I say softly. “That’s a cool name for your little boy.”
Craig gives me a halfhearted smile, wiping raindrops out of his eyes. “He’s named after his mama. Her name was Ella.”
“Was?” The word topples from my lips before I have time to think it through. But Craig answers just as quickly, and I see his throat move in my peripheral vision.
“She passed away just after having Ellis. She’d been in a car accident.”
My stomach plummets. Acid rises in my throat, from the guilt of knowing I had initially assumed that he had a crazy ex and a load of personal drama. “I’m so sorry, Craig,” I tell him, meaning it. “I had no idea.”
“It’s okay, only a few people really do.”
I can hear the heartbreak in his voice. He cared for Ella a lot. “Aunt Nancy?”
“She’s a good listener,” he says with a sad smile. “Yeah, Nancy knows.”
“And she never said anything.” I’m speaking mostly to myself when I say it, but Craig’s hand suddenly encircles my wrist, stopping me in my tracks and bringing me out of my own thoughts.
“Nancy’s a good listener,” he repeats. “She’s also a good secret keeper. She knows me, and she knows I don’t tell people about my personal life unless I want them to know. Your aunt is a good person, Megan, so don’t be too hard on her for not telling you, okay?”
There’s something different in the way Craig speaks to me, in the way his fingers are holding me in place with only the slightest pressure. All I can do is nod, too struck by the way he’s staring into my eyes to form sentences.
“Okay, let’s get you out of the rain.” He releases my wrist and places his hand on the small of my back only long enough to get me walking again. Hands shoved in his pockets, he tries to change the subject. “What’s your story, Megan? From city girl to small town journalist. That’s quite the switch.”
It feels like a punch in the gut to hear it said that way, so nonchalantly, but it’s also refreshing. Seeing as my parents have been walking on eggshells around me for almost a week, too afraid and uncertain about how I’ll react if they mention it to say anything even remotely reassuring. “Honestly? Things in Dallas were good—great, in fact—until they weren’t. I had a really good job. A dream job for any new journalist. I was damn lucky to get the position straight out of university.”
“So, what happened?” Craig is stealing glances at me, shifting his gaze from the sidewalk in front of us to me sporadically.
I shiver, and it has nothing to do with the rain that is still splattering all around me. “It turns out my boss was more interested in what I could do for him than what I could do for the newspaper,” I admit bitterly. “When he put the moves on me, I turned him down.”
“Wait.” Craig stops walking, staring at me intently. “He fired you for not wanting to sleep with him?”
“I was still on a six-month probationary period,” I shrug. “On paper, I was let go because I wasn’t the right fit for the job. But yes, that’s the real reason I lost my job and ended up here. No savings and no desire to move back in with my parents will do that to a person. So, Cardon Springs it is.” I try to muster up a grin, but Craig doesn’t seem to see the humor in anything I’m saying.
“Probably a good thing I don’t know who he is or have the time to make an impromptu trip to Dallas,” he mutters.
“Easy, caveman,” I chuckle. “Let’s get back on some solid ground here, shall we? Umm, hockey.” I snap my fingers, the idea coming to me. “Aunt Nancy said you play hockey. That must be fun...and a safe subject to discuss.” I nudge him playfully, finally eliciting a faint smile from him.
“I still play when I can,” Craig says, nodding. “But not nearly as much as I used to. I thought I was going to be a big NHL star. I had the scholarship and the rumors about draft picks and everything. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a damn good mechanic, but I was one hell of a hockey player.”
“Wow, no modesty there at all.”
He chuckles quietly. “I know what I’m good at, Megan.”
I blush for the umpteenth time that day. Not because of what he said, but because of how he said it and the way he looked at me when he said it. Like he was staring into me, not at me. “So, why are you fixing my crappy car when you should be shooting pucks and winning hockey games and making all the women swoon like crazy?”
