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“Why’s that?” she asked with a chuckle.
“Because I wouldn’t feel right about you walking back here alone. So then I’d have to walkyouback home, and then if you insisted on walking me home, it’d start all over again.”
“We’d be walking back and forth all night,” she concluded somberly.
“Exactly. Like I said, pointless.”
"Fine, we’ll just part ways here on the porch so we don’t get trapped in that loop. But I guess I wanted to walk you out so we could…”
“Talk?” he finished for her when she let the sentence hang.
“Yeah.”
They stood in companionable silence for a while, facing the colorful lights of the town square.
"You know, talking might help us talk," Tommy teased, breaking the silence.
Grace turned to him. "Sorry. Yes, let’s do that. Um, you said you were in the army. Any wild travel tales?"
“You first,” Tommy challenged, knowing her well enough by now to pick up on her need to know more about him than she said about herself.
She hesitated, then sighed. "Okay, there was this one time in Morocco. Got utterly lost in Marrakech's souks."
"Did you find a magic carpet or a genie's lamp?"
"Not quite," Grace chuckled. "But I did find this hidden café. The owner, this sweet older man, made the best mint tea. No genie needed."
“Or maybe he was a genie, and you just didn’t know it.”
She laughed, and as they sat on the porch swing, she continued to tell him story after story about her travels over the years. He still didn’t know details about her family or what made her so hesitant to be vulnerable that he felt like he needed to use kid gloves, but it was progress.
He wondered if maybe the quiet of the night, the festive and cozy ambiance of the porch had anything to do with her willingness to be more open, more herself.
Whatever it was, he was hooked on her every word.
Unfortunately, even with the cozy blanket from the porch swing and the fact that they were both bundled up in their winter gear, after about an hour, Grace’s teeth were chattering so much it was starting to get hard to understand her.
Tommy sighed, not wanting the night to end, but knowing it would anyway if he suggested they go in and sit by the fire. If he broke the moment in any way, it’d be gone for the rest of the night, he was sure.
“All right,” he said, removing the blanket from their laps and tugging Grace to her feet, “I think it’s time for you to go inside and warm up. I like your face the way it is, and right now I’m worried your nose is about to fall off.”
Grace covered her face with her gloved hands, her shoulders shaking with a silent laugh. “It feels like you’re right, not gonna lie.”
She lowered her hands from her face, and they shared a lingering look—a silent acknowledgment of the connection forming between them.
But then Grace’s expression morphed into a mix of determination and vulnerability, and she took a deep breath. "Okay, listen. I see no reason to hold back our chemistry while I'm in town. We clearly have sparks, and it would be a shame for us to keep pretending they aren't there for my entire stay."
Tommy blinked, taken aback but more than a little pleased. He let out a short laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "I haven't been pretending they don't exist, Grace. I've been trying to shoot you in the chest with them so you'll give in and become a local like me."
She laughed, swatting athischest with her small hand. Tommy caught it in his, tugging her closer, their breaths mingling in the frosty air. The tension and anticipation between them built as their faces moved closer.
"Okay," Grace whispered, her eyes searching his. "I like you, and we should go on more dates and stuff while I'm here."
"Sounds good to me." He'd answered without hesitation, but then she lifted a finger between their lips as he leaned in, making him pause in place.
"But I have one condition."
"Which is?" he whispered back, unable to tear his gaze away from hers.
