“Unless,” she continued, “we could take turns. You share something, I share something, and so on and so forth.”
He was more tempted than could be considered smart. He didn’t need to develop any kind of intimacy here. Although he surely wouldn’t be around long enough for that to happen. Besides, after all the excitement, he was keyed up. Neither of them would be able to sleep for a while. “Three things.”
She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Okay, three things. You go first.”
He gave her a mock scowl even as he considered what to say. There were many things he could tell her. Inconsequential tidbits about his life, experiences, and various foibles. His coffee addiction. His boundless curiosity. His weird habit of ironing every stitch of clothing.
“My mom passed away.”
Grace’s face fell.
He instantly regretted dumping something serious onto the moment.
She settled a hand on his forearm. “I’m so sorry. How long ago?”
“Long time. I was just a kid. I’m way past the grief stage.”
“Still, it’s hard. My mom died too. Four years ago, in a car accident. My dad died at the same time.”
His heart squeezed tight. “That’s really tough, Grace. You were seventeen?”
“Eighteen. Starting my junior year. My brother came home from Denver, and my sister dropped out of college to come home and open the inn. That’s the only reason I was able to stay and finish high school.”
Now that he’d gone and dropped something so private, he was more than happy to shift the focus to her. “You grow up fast when a parent dies.”
Her eyes sharpened on his. “Yes. You experienced that too? Even though you still had your dad?”
“He worked a lot, but he did his best. It must’ve helped you, having siblings. You must be close, the three of you.”
“Sure.” She smirked. “They’re great . . . when they’re not in my business or bossing me around.”
“Sounds like a pretty typical sibling relationship.”
She seemed to realize she was still touching him and pulled away. He missed the slight weight of her hand on his arm.
“Do you have brothers or sisters? Oops. I guess it’s my turn now. I feel like I need to come up with something really profound.”
He slid his gaze sideways and got stuck in her eyes. They looked dark blue right now, and he could see the flicker of flames in their depths. A tight cord of tension drew between them. The pull was strong and carried the promise of something better.
Wyatt broke eye contact and grabbed a stick that lay at his feet. He poked at the fire. “You just told me about your folks. So that probably means it’s my turn again.” What was he doing?
“Fine by me. Go ahead then.”
He gave the fire another poke, watched sparks shoot up into the sky and fade away into the heavens. He stared at the moon as a cloud moved in, shrouding it. “Sometimes I wonder where God is.”
The moment of silence betrayed her surprise. “Wow. You’re really good at this game. But I think that’s normal, isn’t it? I mean, sometimes I wonder too. I think everyone does when something’s gone wrong, and He doesn’t fix it right away, or at all. Like when my parents died, I definitely felt that way. I guess that’s where faith comes into play.”
He studied her for a long moment. “Smart girl.”
She looked away. Rubbed her lips together. They looked especially full in the firelight, and he wondered what they tasted like.
Forbidden fruit, that’s what. “Your turn.”
“Okay, let’s see. All right. I’ve never told anyone this, but . . . I’m a little jealous of my sister. I mean, I love her to pieces, but that’s just it. Everyone loves Molly. She’s so good with people, and she’s positive no matter what happens. Sometimes it’s annoying, but really, I wish I could be more like her. If you tell her I said that, I’ll deny it until my last breath.”
How could someone so amazing want to be like someone else? Grace was ambitious enough to start her own business. Generous enough to help him, a virtual stranger. She was gutsy enough to hit a full-grown man over the head with a rock. And she wasn’t full of baloney like a lot of people, spouting frivolous words just to flatter or pacify. She was straightforward, and in a world full of people who played head games, that was a quality he appreciated.
“I don’t know you all that well,” he said, “but so far I think you’re pretty