“Luke, honey, I need you to take over my duties for the fund-raiser. I’m simply too busy right now to do a thorough job.”
“Whoa. Wait a minute,” Darcy said. “I thought you were just going to ask him to help.” She’d imagined him picking up donated furniture, setting up tables, manual jobs that required a little extra muscle power.
Grace picked up her Bible and waved it. “I’m leading a new women’s Bible study group as well as volunteering at the food pantry this month. I’d like to completely hand over the reins to Luke.”
“Granny, I—”
She threw her hand up to stop him. “How about we talk more about it over dinner? We don’t want to make Darcy late.”
“Okay. I’ll walk her out.”
Maybe Darcy should tell Grace Luke’s plan to ask Burt to move. What if they put the house on the market and Luke left next week?
No, Darcy couldn’t bear to break the woman’s heart. How could she tell Grace that her plan to lure Luke into moving to Appleton was doomed from the start?
Darcy stood and pushed the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you on Sunday.”
“Thanks for coming, dear. The kids in the community will be blessed by your hard work.”
Darcy smiled as she waved and headed toward the living room. Luke went ahead of her and stepped outside to hold the screen door open. For some reason, the thought of working closely with him on the project made her stomach wrap around itself in a pretzel of dread. So many things could go wrong—namely, the fact that he could leave town at any moment, sticking her with the majority of the auction work.
No, worse was the fact that he didn’t seem to care they’d never see each other once he moved Burt and Grace to Nashville.
Barreling out the front door, she ran into a wall of solid muscle.
She nearly bounced off Luke, and he grabbed her arms to set her upright. “You okay?”
“I’m sorry. I was zoned out, wasn’t watching.”
“In that much of a hurry?”
She looked into his stunning brown eyes and swallowed. Nodded. “Can’t be late.”
“Working weekend evenings must cut into your social life.”
“Not everyone has a hot date every weekend,” she snapped.
His eyes widened, and he held up his hands. “Sorry. I meant no offense.”
Heat swept from her chest upward. “No, I’m sorry. Sensitive subject after that conversation with your grandmother.”
Luke leaned against the screen, trapping her between it and the front door, his lips tilted up in a semi-smile. A knowing, snarky and way-too-appealing smile. “So, no hot dates lately, huh?”
“Spoken by the guy who would date anyone in a skirt.” She laughed at his ridiculously cocky pose and tried to shove him out of her way.
His bulging biceps didn’t budge.
A growl formed in her throat, but she stifled it. “Some of us are more selective than others,” she said instead, staring him down, wondering at her breathlessness. What was wrong with her?
“Touché.” His gaze dipped to her lips.
Great. A smudge of pecan pie filling or a speck of crust must’ve landed on her mouth. She nonchalantly wiped the area, just in case.
Luke laughed and stepped back, holding the screen door open. “I’m just playing with you. So you’re heading to the mall job?”
The extra space between them gave her room to breathe. “A night of selling accessories to the teen crowd at Glitzy Glenda’s. Have to be there at six.” Still trying to gather her wits, she glanced at her watch. “It’s five-thirty already.”
“Oh, well, I won’t keep you. But I do need your input on a matter with my dad. Maybe we can get together this weekend?”
Before she could decide how to answer, he gave a jaunty salute and headed back inside, totally unaffected by their close encounter.
* * *
Luke stepped inside Granny’s house, closed the front door and let his head drop against it. Man, what’s my problem?
Darcy was acting perfectly normal, but he hadn’t been able to since the previous day when she’d first smiled up at him and it hit him how badly he’d missed her.
The last time he was home, Darcy had been his rock, holding his hand through his mom’s funeral and graveside service. Talking to friends and family whenever he choked up, sensing his every need. They’d been more in tune than ever.
As friends. So what had changed?
Maybe he’d been working too hard. Hadn’t been on a date in ages. That had to be the problem. Easily remedied when he got back to Nashville.
Luke shook off the weirdness and headed back to help with dinner.
Bustling around her kitchen, his grandmother tried to fill the space—space his mother would normally fill—with chatter.
Everything felt wrong without Mom in their midst. Empty-chair wrong. Lack-of-her-voice wrong. And wrong for Grace to be preparing dinner without the help of her daughter.
Desperate to ease the emptiness, Luke touched his grandmother’s shoulder. “Will you show me how to make your chicken casserole?”
With a grateful smile and misty eyes, she nodded. “Of course.”
As Granny continued making his favorite dish, she jotted down the recipe and talked him through the preparation. Pulling boiled chicken off the bones and chopping vegetables somehow soothed both of them. Granny chatted about the townspeople and church friends to update him on all the latest news. When she finally popped the casserole in the oven, she settled him at the table next to a freshly baked pecan pie with two slices missing. His mouth watered.
“There’s your dessert,” she said as she sat across from him with a satisfied smile.
“You know, you’re making life tough for my future wife.”
“I love spoiling you, and having you back home where you belong.” Her brown eyes shone with happiness. Time together was good for both of them.
Unfortunately, his ultimate goal would not make her happy. “Granny—”
“Before you tell me everything that’s going on with you, I need to talk to you about heading the auction committee.”
“I won’t be in town long.”
She pushed herself up from the table and grabbed the calendar off the wall. The month of May featured a photo of kittens and puppies snuggled up together. Typical Granny.
As she returned to her seat, she spun the calendar around so he could see the blocks of writing. “You may not know it, but I’m a busy woman. Thought my senior years would be slow-paced and relaxed, but I hardly have a spare moment.”
Her scribbles on the calendar indicated committee meetings and Bible studies and luncheons. Other than Sunday, she barely had a day open each week. Had she guessed why he was in town and wanted to make it clear that she’d never willingly move away?
“Wow. Looks like you’ve got your hand in everything around town.”
“I do. I like feeling needed. And like that I can contribute, giving back to my community and church.”
He nodded and swallowed hard. Here it comes. She’s onto my plan and is going to scold me for it.
“That’s why I need your help,” she said. “Your timing is perfect for this project.” Her smile gentled. “The purpose of the auction is to raise funds for Food4Kids, the program your mother started.”
He pulled in a long, slow breath, trying to control his emotions. “I remember her working on it.” He’d hated to imagine kids having the kind of gnawing hunger that made your stomach dig into your backbone.
“When Joan first started Food4Kids at the elementary schools, the number of kids whose parents weren’t willing or able to provide nourishing meals on weekends was small. No more than ten children. But a growing number come to school on Mondays hungry.”
“How many are in the program now?” he asked.
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