Читать книгу Hart's Harbor - Deb Kastner - Страница 10

“D r. Hart! Wait up!”

Dr. Kyle Hart whirled on his heels and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his white lab coat, automatically searching for one of the apple-flavored candies he’d placed there earlier. Closing his fingers around a candy, he quickly and one-handedly unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth, while his other hand automatically brushed back through his thick black hair.

His flame-haired, emerald-eyed, swift-smiling and enchantingly gregarious nurse, Gracie Adams, was heading his direction, patently limping on her high-heeled pumps and waving a clipboard over her head, papers flapping and pencils flying everywhere.

Kyle pursed his lips, trying to hide his amusement, though he knew it must show from his eyes. A person would think, looking at Gracie, that she was in the direst need of his assistance.

He highly doubted it. In the small, cozy town of Safe Harbor, Wisconsin, very little rated of truly direst need. Gracie Adams just happened to be one of those women for whom everything was an emergency.

He smiled as she approached, and gestured lightly in the direction of her clipboard. “What is it this time, Gracie?”

She looked him straight in the eye, which surprisingly wasn’t hard for her to do. At six feet two inches tall, Kyle towered over most women and a good many men; but Gracie was tall and lithe, a natural-born model if ever there was one.

New York would love her.

Gracie ought to be a fancy New York runway model, now that he thought about it. She would be a raging success in the city with that hair and that figure.

But Kyle would never be the one to suggest such a thing to her. Gracie possessed a sweet, small-town charm he wouldn’t want to see her lose, much less be the one who pointed her in that direction.

Kyle knew firsthand how dark a big city could feel, what being around a profusion of cynical people could do to a man.

Or a woman.

He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy, and definitely not on a small-town sweetheart like the lovely and spirited Gracie Adams.

Kyle smiled at her, and Gracie returned his grin with one of her own contagious smiles. Her expression, however, remained just a little bit suspicious, from Kyle’s perspective. He wondered what she had to be suspicious about.

“What do you need?” he asked again, wondering if he really wanted to hear the answer, and deciding that, whatever the risk, he did want to know what was going on in that pretty head of hers, though he might live to regret it in the long run. “What is it you need me to do for you, Gracie?”

“I think we ought to run off together.”

Kyle’s jaw dropped, and for a moment he did nothing but stare at her, stunned immobile from the top of his head to the tips of his cowboy-booted feet. Even his tongue refused to work, though he tried frantically in that one moment to make a witty comeback. Or at least to say something. Anything.

The moment seemed a lifetime to Kyle, but he knew in reality it had only actually only been the space of a breath. He blinked hard and recovered nearly as fast as he’d frozen, straightening and looking her right in the eye with a wink.

Gracie was obviously trying to unsettle him. Which, he admitted wryly, and only to himself, she had done quite successfully. For that one small moment in time, he’d almost believed her.

Almost.

Not that he was going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d yanked the proverbial rug from under him. He had his pride.

“Where do you want to run to?” he asked cryptically. “Paris? London? A tropical island in the Bahamas, perhaps?”

She groaned and shook her head fervently, waving him away with the open palm of her free hand. “Anywhere, as long as it’s not here.”

He chuckled at her candor. “And what is wrong with here?”

“Mmm. Yes, well, let’s just say I want to see the big, wide world before I settle down to small-town insignificance.”

Her tone was teasing, but Kyle sensed the truth behind her words. He reached out an arm and grasped her elbow, half to guide her down the hall, and half to reassure her she wasn’t alone. He took her clipboard and tossed it on a nearby counter. “Believe me, Gracie, you’re not missing anything. Safe Harbor is as good as it gets.”

She looked at him, her gaze wide, and her full lips turned down with just enough stubbornness to hint of a pout. “Don’t be discouraging.”

“Well, it’s true. And you’re avoiding my question. What’s wrong with here, anyway?”

Gracie just stared back at him without answering, her sparkling eyes full of the thoughts she refused to speak aloud.

He stopped and turned in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. “Gracie, why do you want to run away from home?”

The silence was deafening, at least from Kyle’s point of view. He made it a rule to stay out of others’ personal lives, and the one time he’d made an exception, he’d managed to stun his usually chatter-friendly nurse into complete silence.

“I’m afraid I can’t do Paris this afternoon,” he added when she continued to stare at him as if he’d grown a second nose. “I have patients scheduled for this afternoon, and I wouldn’t want to let them down. I’m sure you have patients of your own to attend to. But we can do lunch if you’d like.”

“Lunch?” She still looked dazed, but at least he had her talking.

“Sure. You know, a little food, a cup of strong, hot coffee…we can set every tongue at the Women’s League wagging without even leaving town. Stir up a little gossip, you know?”

She arched an eyebrow, and he chuckled softly at his own joke. “What do you say? Does that sound good to you or not?”

He turned to her side, put a hand to the small of her back and gestured her to the right, down another hallway that led to the rear entrance to the building. He didn’t really want any tongues wagging—not with his name attached to them, anyway. He was staying here in Safe Harbor to lay low for a while, not to become a public spectacle ripe for town gossip.

But for some unexplained reason, he felt obligated to Gracie Adams. Somewhere within the conversation, he had become personally committed to getting that beaming smile back on her lovely face, even at the expense of his own anonymity.

As if summoned by his reflection, her smile returned, illuminating her face like the lighthouse at the end of town. “It has potential.”

“What has potential? The wagging tongues, or the food?”

She pursed her lips, then answered decisively. “Food.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “So what are you in the mood for? What sounds good to you? The Bistro or Harry’s Kitchen?”

He realized as soon as he asked the question how obvious, almost foolish, it sounded. The Bistro was clearly the type of restaurant tantamount to Gracie’s unique style and personality. A real gentleman would not have hesitated. He’d simply have taken her to the classy joint.

“Harry’s,” she said immediately, to Kyle’s surprise. She tugged on his arm so he would face her. “And I’m buying.”

His pride welled up in quick defense. “I was the one who suggested it, Gracie. I’m buying,” he retorted in a vain attempt to salvage what was left of his injured male dignity.

Gracie snorted a laugh and took his arm, pulling him down the hallway. What annoyed him most was that he let her do it.

“Don’t be stubborn, Hart. I’m going to buy you lunch, and you’re going to let me.” The pixieish smile she flashed him let him know without a doubt she’d won this battle.

And she knew it.

“Do you always get what you want?” he asked, holding the door for her as they exited the Safe Harbor Family Practice building where they’d both spent a busy morning helping patients. The sun was shining brightly, and they both donned their sunglasses as they walked.

Gracie shrugged, appearing not to take the least offense at his less than innocent question. “Oh, pretty much.”

She paused and met his gaze, her smile fading into a playful pout that left him wondering what she was really thinking. “Except when it really counts.”

“Leaving Safe Harbor,” he supplied for her, taking a stab in the dark.

She nodded.

Kyle wondered not for the first time why Gracie was so intent on leaving such a charming small town. The town she’d been born and raised in.

He was certainly glad to be in Safe Harbor, and he was especially glad Gracie was here now, with him. Apart from his friends Robert and Wendy McGuire, who’d been fundamental in bringing him to Safe Harbor a couple of months ago, Gracie was one of the few people here with whom he felt genuinely comfortable talking, at least beyond exchanging simple, civil niceties.

She was brutally honest, but he found he liked that in a woman—or at least, this woman.

Besides, she was a real trip to be around. He never knew what to expect with her. Never knew what she would say or do. In his staid and somewhat stoic life, she was a refreshing breath of air.

He’d never before been in as intimate a situation with her as this lunch situation proposed, but she was a close friend of the McGuires and had been introduced to him early on in his stay at Safe Harbor as someone he particularly ought to get to know. Perhaps there had even been a certain suggestive gleam in his old friend Robert’s eyes. And since she also worked in the clinic with him, he’d had ample opportunity to get to know her.

At least superficially.

This was the first time she’d shared any information of any real depth with him, though she was certainly friendly enough in offering cursory details of her life. He’d always known there was more to her than she was letting on, layers she was merely hinting at in her conversation.

But whatever she had tucked away in that pretty head of hers had remained that way, and he’d respected that privacy up until now.

He had his own secrets to keep, too.

But now, he’d accidentally scratched beneath the surface of Gracie’s because of the guess he’d made about her desire to leave Safe Harbor. Which was, he mused uneasily, nothing more than conjecture for him.

Who would have known a man like him, who preferred a medical manual to any kind of emotion whatsoever, would be able to come remotely close to—never mind actually being able to guess—the inner motives of a young woman with so much going for her right here in town?

Gracie loudly cleared her throat, and Kyle was pulled from his musings to discover she was staring at him as if he’d grown two heads.

He shrugged his shoulders and flashed her a crooked, apologetic grin.

“Let’s walk to the restaurant,” Gracie suggested, stepping one foot off the curb and looking back, eagerly holding her hand out for him to follow and smiling in earnest.

Kyle readily agreed. How could he resist? It was a warm spring afternoon, slightly exceptional for May in Wisconsin, though in fact he wouldn’t know personally since this was his first, and probably only, year in the state, having been born and bred in the Lone Star State.

Texas.

Kyle took a deep, ragged breath and forced his dark memories as deeply as they’d go into the back recesses of his mind. Now wasn’t the time to be treading back on his melancholy. He’d already been brooding enough in poor Gracie’s company.

It was a wonderful, sunshine-filled day, and he was with a beautiful woman. The air was ripe with spring, with the pungent scent of budding flowers and fresh green grass just after its first spring mow.

A man couldn’t ask for more blessings than that, now could he?

Gracie, Kyle realized with a start, had been chattering along as they went, while he’d been completely consumed by his thoughts. And, he also realized bluntly, he hadn’t a single clue as to what she had said.

She was quiet now, though, observing him with a tantalizing tilt of her head that sent the sunlight shimmering off the highlights of her red hair.

“A penny for your thoughts,” she said, her voice rich and warm.

He chuckled awkwardly and jammed his fingers through his thick black hair. “Trust me, Gracie, you don’t want to know.”

Judging from the jewel-fine gleam in her eyes and the way she cocked her hands on her hips just so, she was obviously going to argue the point, but he quickly cut her short.

“We’re at the restaurant,” he pointed out, gesturing to the front door of Harry’s Kitchen. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry enough to eat a whole menu’s worth of items. Let’s go in and get a table before we end up having to wait.”

She pressed her full lips together and surveyed him keenly. “Kyle—” she began, and then stopped without finishing her sentence. She stared at him a moment more, and then said, “Okay. Let’s go in.”

Relief flooded through him. Thankfully, she wasn’t going to press the issue. But that emotion was quickly followed by a surprising surge of another, less familiar feeling.

Disappointment.

“Look, Hart, the whole town must be in here for lunch today,” Gracie exclaimed, obviously pleased by that tidbit of information.

Kyle wasn’t so sure how he felt. He looked around at the green-upholstered booths of the eating establishment and indeed, there were many familiar faces staring wide-eyed back at him, waving him—and Gracie—inside the door with eager grins.

Feral grins, he thought caustically, at least on some of the older women he knew from church. They’d had their matchmaking eyes on him ever since he’d arrived in Safe Harbor.

In Kyle’s mind, and in his newly unattached state, there wasn’t a thing in this world more daunting than a group of determined, small-town ladies wanting to hitch a man up to the marriage wagon, and no amount of objection made a difference in their minds, or in their plans. He had protested, as politely but loudly as possible, for what little good that did him.

He was a reasonably young, and reasonably—ahem—handsome, single man in a small town with an abundance of young, single women. As far as the self-appointed town matchmakers were concerned, he was fair game. No amount of denial on his part would make them see the light.

The only light the older members of the Safe Harbor Women’s League wanted to see was candles at the end of a sanctuary aisle with a white wedding runner leading right up to it. And him in a tux, smack-dab in the middle of the whole picture.

He could see the news on the front page of the Safe Harbor Courier already—Wedding Bells Ahead for Dr. Kyle and Nurse Gracie.

It almost sounded like a soap opera. He slid a look at Gracie, but she’d already headed off toward the first table to greet some of her friends. She was grasping hands and hugging necks and kissing cheeks and being her sweet, charming self.

What man wouldn’t be proud to walk into a restaurant with a woman like Gracie Adams on his arm?

He smiled in spite of himself. Gracie was animated and pretty, the perfect woman to charm a bitter widower’s heart. It was a compliment to him that they considered him dating material for her.

But the Women’s League would have to look elsewhere to pair Gracie Adams up.

True, a man would be foolish to not want a woman like Gracie in his life and in his heart.

But Kyle wasn’t any man. He didn’t have a heart left to give.

She was, he realized, heartache peeling back as fresh as if it were just yesterday and not over a year ago, certainly not anything like his wife Melody, neither in looks nor in personality.

Melody had not even come up to Kyle’s shoulder, and had long blond hair and rosy cheeks. She’d been quiet, though not shy, preferring to think things through before she spoke, and then she would speak slowly and calmly, even when things were in chaos.

Though Melody had cheerfully held a job to help see Kyle through medical school, her true passion in life was making a home, baking cookies, sewing gingham curtains and refinishing antique furniture.

The happiest day of her life was the day she’d brought their new daughter home from the hospital. He knew she had dreams of playgrounds and PTA meetings.

But that was not to be. Kyle grit his teeth until he could feel the pulse in his jaw.

A drunk driver had taken all that away from her—from them. Kyle had wanted to give them so much. What else had he been working so hard for?

But his window of opportunity had been taken from him before he’d even had the opportunity to give them a tenth of what they deserved. One man’s bad decision had robbed him of a lifetime with his wife and daughter.

So while Kyle had no doubt it was a compliment to him that the older women staring so openly at him considered him dating material for a young woman like Gracie Adams, the Women’s League would have to look elsewhere to pair her up.

With a grimace he shifted his gaze—and his attention—back to Gracie, who continued to glide from table to table, catching up with the latest news and gossip from old friends.

Gracie caught Kyle’s tolerant gaze for a moment, then turned to the next table, glad Kyle was so easygoing about her taking a few minutes with her friends.

She especially wanted to have a moment to chat with Constance Laughlin before rejoining her handsome lunch partner. She wouldn’t say she was avoiding Kyle exactly, but the space to catch her breath was doing her a bit of good.

“Constance. I didn’t know you frequented Harry’s,” Gracie said, leaning down to give the dear middle-aged woman a hug and a kiss on her cheek.

Constance flashed her the same wide-eyed, guilty gaze of a child caught with her hand stuck squarely in the middle of a cookie jar. Dual slashes of pink flushed high on her prominent cheekbones, and she shook her sleek, bob-cut black hair in immediate denial.

Gracie had been half-prepared to be the one to field the question about her handsome male lunch companion, the topic at nearly every other table she’d visited.

But Constance hadn’t even appeared to notice. At least not yet.

Which could only mean something else was going on. Something bigger.

She lifted her head and scanned the small restaurant, more than a little curious what that something could be, but nothing looked out of the ordinary, except perhaps the sparkling eyes of Dr. Kyle Hart. He winked and smiled at her, and her heart missed a beat, then raced like mad to make up for it.

Gracie scowled. The man was far too handsome for his own good. And what was worse, he looked as if he knew something she didn’t, something that was amusing him greatly.

For some reason, that annoyed her. And of course, he knew it.

Pursing his lips against his smile, Kyle briefly nodded his head in the direction of the front counter, then slid into the nearest booth.

Again he made the merest nod, then punctuated his gesture with another friendly wink.

Frowning, she turned to see what Hart found so humorous, and spotted Harry Connell, the kitchen’s owner, in a muted, heads-down conversation with none other than Nathan Taylor, Safe Harbor’s resident mystery man. He had appeared out of nowhere one day, but had been regularly spending weekends in the small town.

Constance’s guilty countenance suddenly made perfect, and very romantic, sense. Gracie felt her heart whirl and turn all aflutter as she turned back to her friend, placing her knuckles on the table between them and leaning in with a conspiratorial air.

“Constance Laughlin,” Gracie whispered through her teeth, though never losing her smile, “did you have something you wanted to tell me?”

Constance batted her lips and swallowed hard, but the only thing she uttered was a squeak.

“You wouldn’t be here with Nathan, now would you, dear?”

Constance’s eyes widened and her hands flared up in denial, but after a moment she sighed and leaned back in her seat, clearly resigned to the inevitable.

Gracie laughed, her gaze straying to Kyle for a moment before looking back at her friend. “You know as well as I do you’re practically announcing your engagement to the man just by being seen here with him. You know how the gossip mill in this town works.”

Constance’s face fell, and Gracie slid in beside her in the booth, putting her arm around her dear friend and giving her a hug, feeling instantly contrite for her words. “You know I’m just joking with you, hon. No one cares if you want to have lunch with Nathan, and it’s nobody’s business but yours, anyway.”

Constance nodded, but there were tears in her eyes. “I know. I just—” Her voice cracked and she fell silent.

“Nobody’s rushing you,” Gracie assured her, feeling a surge of almost matriarchal tenderness that was at odds with their varying ages. “Besides, I’m definitely playing the trump card on today’s lunch hour.”

She gestured toward the booth where Dr. Hart was lounging, watching them both with an amused gaze. “Nathan Taylor may be a good-looking man, but why don’t you take a gander at my lunch date? Talk about setting the tongues wagging…”

“Dr. Kyle?” Constance let out a teenagelike giggle and flickered her fingers at Kyle, whose dark eyebrows shot up into his hairline before he hastily responded with a wave of his own. “Are you telling me that hunk of M.D. is taking you out to lunch?”

She laughed. “I’m taking him to lunch.”

“Same difference,” Constance crooned, her expression only freezing for a second when Nathan slid into the booth across from them. He flashed Constance a special, private smile, her gaze flared for a moment, and a cockeyed sense of normalcy resumed.

“No, it’s important that you realize I’m not accepting anything from Hart.” Gracie was quick to defend her way of thinking. Speaking helped her feel less like she was intruding on a special moment between two people, which was how she felt when Nathan and Constance looked at each other. “Trust me, there’s no fodder for the gossip mill in this room.”

Constance flicked her a look that indicated she didn’t believe a word of it.

“Kyle and I have a purely platonic relationship.” She was about to go on and say she’d been the one to invite Kyle to lunch, but then she realized it wasn’t true. She might flatter herself that she was the one paying at the end of the meal, but…

He had asked her.

A shiver ran through her. She had insisted on paying the tab in order to keep some distance between them. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Hart taking the initiative.

Constance, seeing her hesitance, chuckled and gestured to Kyle. “Don’t you think you ought to return to your friend?” she asked under her breath. “Look at him over there all by his lonely self. You wouldn’t want him to get bored and leave without you.”

Gracie flashed a look at Kyle, who looked anything but bored. He was watching her with interest, his eyes sparkling like iced tea in the sunshine and a lazy Texas grin on his face. He casually brushed his jet-black hair off his forehead with his long, supple, surgeon’s fingers, and winked as she gaped at him.

Bored, he was not. And he wasn’t boring to look at, either.

Her gaze reluctantly returned to Constance, who was smiling as if she were privy to a secret. Gracie mock-scowled and shook her head at her incorrigible and clearly misinformed friend. Clearly there was no reason for Constance to think she was attracted to the man, other than that everyone else was fond of his assets.

“I’ll see you Tuesday at the Women’s League meeting,” she said to Constance, and then nodded at Nathan. “Nice to see you again.”

“You, too, Gracie,” Nathan replied with a kind smile that lit up his whole face.

Gracie liked Nathan. He was strong but gentle, and she thought he might be sweet on Constance.

It would be nice to see her friend settled down again, Gracie reflected. Constance had lost her husband, Joseph, when rebel forces attacked his camp during a missionary trip to Central America. Since that time she had focused on being a mother, and now a doting grandmother of an adorable grandson.

Gracie, incurable romantic that she was, couldn’t help but think maybe it was time for a new romance in her dear friend’s life.

Constance had been dating the sheriff, gruff, out-spoken Charles Creasy, but Gracie privately thought quiet, enigmatic Nathan was better suited for her friend.

“What were you doing over there, playing matchmaker?” Kyle teased as she slid in the booth across from him and heaved a sigh.

Gracie held up her hands and shook her head vehemently. “I wouldn’t presume. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

“No problem,” Kyle replied, taking a long drink of the iced tea he’d served for himself. His eyes twinkled with merriment. “But really, Gracie, do you have to speak with everyone in the restaurant?”

Gracie took a sip of her own iced tea, which Kyle had thoughtfully served for her. Harry’s was a self-service establishment for the most part, and Kyle had already taken it upon himself to get them drinks, condiments and silverware.

She leaned toward him, her gaze narrowing thoughtfully. She pinched her lips together. “You wanted to create a scandal when you asked me out to lunch today, didn’t you?” she reminded him.

He chuckled. “No. I was only kidding when I mentioned the gossip mill, Gracie. But you’ve certainly sealed the deal for us, either way. I see rings and garters gleaming in at least a dozen eyes. I think we’d better run for the border.”

Gracie flicked her hair out of her eyes with the palm of her hand. “I can’t help it if people talk. And I can’t just ignore my friends and neighbors when I see them in a restaurant or the grocery store.”

“Trust me, no neighbor would ever accuse you of neglecting them,” Kyle said dryly, trying to smother his grin.

“I’m not going to dignify that remark with a response,” she said, tilting her chin in the air as she realized she was doing just that.

Turning her gaze away, she decided to change the subject. Move it off herself and on to something she could handle. “Do you think Nathan and Constance are interested in each other?” she whispered so she could not be overheard.

Kyle glanced at the middle-aged couple. “Looks like,” he drawled, sounding amused.

Gracie leaned forward. “I hope so. I know they’d be perfect for each other. She’s told me once before that Nathan reminds her of her first husband. Isn’t that romantic?”

A flash of pain flickered across Kyle’s gaze and Gracie immediately regretted her careless words. But he recovered so quickly, she almost thought she might have imagined his sorrow. His laugh was certainly genuine. “See, you are a matchmaker.”

Gracie colored. “Please don’t tease me.”

Kyle lost his smile. “Gracie,” he said, his voice suddenly low. He reached across the table for her hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “You know I only badger you because I like you. I’d certainly never torment an enemy this way.”

He looked as if he were ready to say more, but they were interrupted by one of the waitresses. “Your usual, Dr. Kyle?” she asked after greeting them.

“I’d appreciate that, Maggie,” Kyle replied genially, patting his stomach for emphasis.

Gracie guessed she shouldn’t be surprised that Kyle frequented Harry’s Kitchen, since he was a recently widowed man who probably didn’t cook much for himself, but somehow she’d pictured him more as The Bistro type, with fancy cloth napkins and real silver. She knew from talking to him that he’d led a fairly well-to-do lifestyle as a neurologist in Houston.

Maggie turned to get her order. “I’ll have the same,” Gracie said without hesitation. But the moment the waitress moved away, Gracie asked, “And what would that be, exactly?”

“Would what be?”

“The usual?”

“Oh, that.” Kyle made a show of licking his bottom lip and patting his flat stomach. “Grilled cheese. Extra pickle.”

Gracie made a face.

“You don’t like pickles?”

“It’s not that. I just expected— I don’t know. Caviar or something.”

“At Harry’s? I don’t think so.”

Gracie laughed. “You have a point.”

“Except…”

“Grilled cheese is such a boy-next-door kind of food. You went to medical school.”

“And survived on grilled cheese sandwiches. With extra pickles.”

“More than survived, I’d say,” came a sultry voice from behind Gracie’s left shoulder. “Looks to me like you’ve thrived, big guy.”

Kyle clamped his jaw closed, Gracie thought to keep from saying something he’d regret. She couldn’t miss the look of pure panic that flashed through his gaze before his eyes glazed over.

Gracie turned to the newcomer, whom she knew well from her schoolgirl years and recognized merely from the sappy sweet sound of her voice. “Chelsea Daniels. What brings you into Harry’s?”

“As if you didn’t know.” Chelsea gave Kyle a long, sliding look that made the man blush.

Gracie rolled her eyes. She’d never gotten along particularly well with Chelsea in school. She had little tolerance for any woman who spent more time combing her shoulder-length brown hair and applying makeup to accentuate her fine bones and delicate features than she did cultivating her friendships.

Chelsea was one of those women who’d matured early, and had always caught the eyes of the boys. And she’d known it. She knew it now.

Always looking after her own self-interests, Chelsea could only be depended on to think of herself and what she wanted.

Now was not an exception; only now, Chelsea had apparently decided she wanted Kyle. Gracie actually felt sorry for the poor man.

“Are you going on the bachelor’s block, Kyle?” Chelsea purred, hovering over Kyle so that he squirmed back in the booth to escape her.

“The what?” he asked, flashing a bewildered and at the same time beseeching look at Gracie. It was clear he had no idea what was going on.

“Oh, never mind,” Chelsea snapped, typically and easily annoyed and diverted. “It’s really too bad I’m already finished eating, or I’d join you,” she said, blowing out a huff of breath. “But there’s always another day, right?”

“Uh…right. I guess,” Kyle agreed, looking to Gracie as if he were wishing he didn’t have to say anything at all.

“Until then…” Gracie suggested, raising her eyebrows and nodding her head toward Chelsea’s neglected table of friends.

Chelsea didn’t take her eyes off Kyle for a moment. She preened and puffed and purred. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know,” Gracie said immediately as Kyle slid upright in his seat again. For emphasis, she put her elbows on the table and placed her palms over her ears.

“It’s not my fault,” Kyle denied heatedly, reaching across to grab Gracie’s hands away from her ears, pulling them to the tabletop and cradling them in his own. “I have no idea what I ever said to that woman, but for some reason, she has it out for me, big time.”

“I wish you two all the best.”

“Please don’t say that,” he groaned, twisting in his seat as if he were in physical pain. “Gracie, you’ve got to help me get out of this.”

“Look, if Chelsea Daniels has her claws out for you, she’s going to get you. At least that’s been my experience in the past.”

Kyle pursed his lips tightly, and Gracie wasn’t sure whether he was scowling or trying to bite back a laugh. “And how is that, exactly?”

“You know the type. Popped the boys’ eyeballs out of their heads in junior high and never looked back.”

“Early bloomer, huh? Do I detect a note of jealousy here?”

Gracie snorted. “Not in this lifetime. I have never, nor do I ever desire to be, the self-indulged type of woman Chelsea has grown into.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kyle muttered, half under his breath.

“Though in her defense,” Gracie continued, not knowing how to take Kyle’s comment, “she does get every man she sets out to win.”

“Well, that’s not how it’s going to happen this time.”

Gracie cocked an eyebrow, her heart hammering in her chest.

He shrugged. “I only want to be left alone. I’m not in the market for a relationship. I’ve seen Chelsea around town, and bumped into her at various functions I’ve attended with the McGuires. She’s made it pretty obvious she’s interested in me.”

“I’ll bet.”

Kyle nodded once, briskly. “I’ve tried to tell Chelsea how I feel, but she won’t listen to a word I tell her.”

Gracie bit back a token of disappointment. She didn’t know what she’d expected him to say, but that wasn’t exactly it. “I’m not surprised, Kyle. She doesn’t give up on an idea easily.”

“Speaking of ideas, what was that about a bachelor’s block or some such?”

Gracie chuckled and took a long drink of iced tea. “Wouldn’t you like to know? You’ll find out soon enough, big guy. You’ll find out soon enough.”