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He blinked again.
She shifted her weight. "It's what you do."
Tommy pondered the simplicity of her words for a minute.
Fix it…
It's what you do.
Sofia was right. Whenever someone in their family had a problem, they came to Tommy to help them work it out. Whether his sisters were fighting over clothes—or even boys, unfortunately—he was the mediator. And it hadn't stopped after he'd gone out on his own. Most of his job as a police officer involved mediating civil disputes, and he had a great track record for diffusing fights before they escalated into something much worse.
"It's what I do," he mumbled, causing Sofia to nod slowly.
Tommy stood abruptly, and she let out a surprised grunt as he roughly pulled her in for a hug and then let her go just as quickly.
He headed for the door, opening it with one hand and pointing at her with the other. "You're the best, sis. Love you."
"Uh... love you too?" she called—clearly confused—as the door shut behind him.
Bolstered by the confidence boost, Tommy jogged downstairs, slapping Jack on the back when he breezed into the front room. "Thanks, I got it from here," he said over his shoulder as he walked by Jack and headed straight for Grace.
Tommy pulled her into the kitchen, tucking them into a far corner so they wouldn't be overheard by the people gathered over cookies and milk near the breakfast nook.
"Whoa, what—"
Tommy took her face in his hands, tilting her head up so he had her attention. "If we're gonna figure out if this woman is here at the inn with us, I need to know everything. No more holding back. No detail is too small. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she whispered. "I trust you."
She trusted him.
Tommy didn't let himself get distracted by how good that felt. Though, it wasn't lost on him that Grace trusted him to fix this problem just as surely as his own sister did, and hope bloomed in his chest. But he couldn't focus on that now.
"Okay," Grace began when he released his hold on her. "I've gotten either an email or a post reply every day for the last two weeks. There was a pause between the night of the kiss and when they started back up again, but the tone was completely different when they did. That was when she went from a sweet, overbearing old lady to... whatever else. Low-key mad at me, I guess? I assumed I wasn't doing her beloved town justice in my articles or something, like I'd offended her in a work-related way. But then tonight was when it was obvious that this wasn't about my blog, but about me. Andyou."
Tommy clenched his jaw. "Remind me when this is over to circle back to you keeping all of this from me."
Grace wrinkled her nose, a look of defiance crossing her face. "I already know I should've taken this more seriously, so if you've got something to say... say it. Lay out your cards or whatever."
Tommy leaned in close. "Nope. Last time we fought, I couldn't keep my lips to myself, and right now, my need to figure out who's got a problem with you outweighs the rest."
Grace looked visibly flustered by his words, causing heat to flood his system. But, determined as ever, he stayed focused on the task at hand.
"Here," Grace said, holding her phone out to him. "Read the emails for yourself. I don't wanna look at them again."
Pain lanced through Tommy as he imagined how she must be feeling. But he nodded and took the phone, reading the emails in order, starting with the nice ones so he could learn from the shift in tone and the timing of it all.
Grace hadn't told him what was said in the email she'd received when they were standing in the hall earlier, but when he reached it, he instantly knew it was the one based on the time it came in. Not to mention the content.
How can you write so many detailed words about Snow Hill and still miss so much? Open your eyes, Grace.
A chill that had nothing to do with the weather outside ran through Tommy as he took in the not-so-thinly veiled aggression directed at his girl. But then there was another one from right before the power went out... and that was the one that truly made his blood run cold.
He stared at the screen, absorbing the fact that this woman thought they needed to stay away from each other and was disappointed that even a snowstorm hadn't made that happen. He schooled his features as he internally cycled through anger, fear for Grace, and finally a fervent need to provide comfort and reassurance.
He tugged her against his chest, kissing her hair. "I'm so sorry, Grace," he whispered so only she could hear him.
"For what?" she asked, her voice muffled against his chest.
