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Her grandma’s eyes twinkled. “Of course.”
Jo clapped with excitement and darted into the house.
As they walked through the living room, another wave of memories washed over her: all the times they’d watched TV on Friday nights, the movie nights, too. The book club that boasted five whole members, Jo, her grandma, and a few of the ladies from the church. Dancing in the living room after Jo won the local spelling bee. Her college acceptance letter. The love and support that filled every nook and cranny.
Once they had their plates brimming with food, they took a seat opposite each other at the round kitchen table in the nook right off the kitchen.
Bringing the bowl to her face, Jo inhaled deeply. Just like she remembered. “I?—”
“Charlie, I’ve got—” A man stopped in the kitchen’s doorway, his sentence abruptly ending as his gaze fell on Jo. “You must be the famous Jo I’ve been hearing about.” His gorgeous pair of perfect lips quirked up on one side.
Jack Turner. The Jack Turner was standing in her grandma’s house, looking like he just walked off a runway. Even more gorgeous than he was in high school. Taller too. Every atom in her body suddenly stood at attention.
The last time she’d seen him, he’d been a senior in high school and more baby-faced. His hair was a shade darker, his face now sported stubble, but those eyes—oh, those baby blues that every girl in Wishing Well High nearly dropping to the floor every time he looked their way—those hadn’t changed one bit. Still just as blue and every bit as mesmerizing.
Fit as ever, too. Based on the dirty jeans and shirt, sweat beading on his skin, and the farmer’s tan, he’d kept in shape through hard labor.
He’d been hot in high school, now he was en muy fuego. If she weren’t already sitting down, she’d be planting her face on the floor. Just a casual glance in high school had her fanning her face.
His parents were prominent in the Wishing Well community. Ralph Turner was a real estate agent who’d earned a seat on the city council just before she left, and last she’d heard from her grandma: his new title was mayor. Jack’s mom, Sophie, was the school librarian, and she also organized the Wishing Well winter love festival that was held each year.
“Jo?” Her grandma’s voice cut through her thoughts.
She blinked as she came out of the trance. “Oh, yeah, uh, hi.” The words nearly ran together. “Not famous, though. Definitely not famous.” She mumbled the last part under her breath.
He stepped forward, thrusting his hand out. “Jack Turner.”
“Uh, yeah, I know.” Her hand slipped into his, and electricity raced through her body. Craig had never elicited that reaction. There’d been the spark of attraction, but not this full-fledged forest fire. She shook off the feeling as a remnant of the crush she had as a kid.
His head tilted as his eyes narrowed. “You do?”
Catching her bottom lip in her teeth, she nodded. In her junior year of high school, she’d overseen the yearbook photos that year and photographed him more than once. She’d looked much different back then, too, so it wasn’t a surprise he didn’t recognize her. “Yeah, but you didn’t know I existed. I was a junior when you were a senior.”
“Oh. I’m truly sorry.” His gaze drifted over her face and down the length of her body. “I missed out.”
Did he just say what Jo thought he said? No way. Hallucinations from brain malfunction from being in his presence were the only explanation. How that was possible ten years later, was a mystery she was interested in solving. “What are?—”
“He’s doing a few repairs for me.” The statement was made with an attempt at making it sound nonchalant. Her grandma stood. “I’ve got chicken pot pie, hot and piping.” It almost seemed to Jo that Charlie was trying to keep attention away from the reason Jack was there.
He held up his hands, his gaze moving from Jo to her grandma and back. “This looks like a reunion, and I don’t want to intrude.”
Charlie waved him off. “Oh, no, you won’t be.” She glanced at Jo. She was getting ideas. Ideas that Jo had no time for now or ever. Not with Jack. He was a nice enough guy in high school, but he’d been out of her league then, and she wasn’t ready for another relationship yet. Not when her career was on the cusp of moving forward.
“Actually—”
“We’d love it.” Her grandma eyed Jo as she cut her off. Along with the grin, there was a sparkle in her eye. Fantastic.
Again, he looked from one to the other and back. “Well, I mean, it is your pot pie.” Okay, so that was a fair enough reason. Anyone who had ever tasted her grandma’s pot pie couldn’t resist it. “That is, if you’re sure I’m not barging in.”
“Sit! I’ll get you a bowl,” Grandma said. This time, she didn’t even look at Jo.
“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled a chair out and took a seat between Jo and her grandma. “Man, I love this stuff,” he said, shooting a smile at Jo. “Thanks for letting me join.”
“No problem.” She hugged herself, trying to hide the jitteriness. All these years later, he could still make her knees weak, and her heart flutter.
She quickly shut the thoughts down. All the girls in high school had those feelings. Her life was in New York, and she wasn’t ready for a relationship, anyway. Plus, once she finished this current assignment, she’d move into photography and traveling even more.
There was no point in even fantasizing about a guy. Her life was perfect the way it was, and once she finished interviewing Serenity, she’d be on her way back home.
