print one out and get it over to you.”
Nick’s eyes flitted to Wyatt, who sat quietly, staring at Grace. A long, uncomfortable moment passed.
Grace sipped her frappé.
Nick shifted. “Well . . . I guess I’d better get back to work. It was good seeing you, Grace.”
“You too, Nick.”
“I’ll check with my mom and give you a call.”
“Okay, great.”
He gave Wyatt a polite nod and slipped out the door.
Wyatt watched him leave, then turned back to her as the door swung shut. “Graceful?”
“I didn’t pick it.”
“I thought you said he works at the marina.”
“He does.” Grace took another sip. “Office manager.”
“You run into him often?”
“Have you seen the size of this town?”
“Fair enough. Is it always that awkward?”
“Um . . .” She looked pointedly at his hand still on hers, then gave him a look. “It was only awkward because of you.”
He pulled his hand away, drawing his mug to twitching lips. “I was just testing a theory.”
“And what theory would that be?”
“You said the breakup was mutual—and I call baloney, Grace Bennett.”
Warmth trickled into her cheeks. “Maybe I was the one who initiated the conversation, but he agreed with me.”
“He was saving face. I don’t know how to tell you this, but that man still has the hots for you.”
“He does not.”
“Did you see the look on his face when he saw our hands? Like someone killed his puppy.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Please visit my mom so I can have an excuse to see you. Let me help sell your inn, Graceful. I’ll call you soon. You’re still on speed dial.”
She chuckled. “Stop it.”
“You know I’m right.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Not that I can blame the poor guy. It’s never fun being friend-zoned.”
“Like you’ve had so much experience with that.”
He let the comment pass, and the subject shifted to the goings-on around town. Then Wyatt caught her up on the areas he’d hiked this week. Grace told him about the little house she was hoping to purchase and about the prospective buyers now touring the inn.
The next time Grace glanced at her watch, over an hour had passed. The Farnsworths were probably sitting down to supper. It was possible they’d discuss things over the meal and have an offer tomorrow before they left—or even yet tonight.
“I should get home.” Grace stood and grabbed her empty plastic cup. “I’m dying to see how it went.”
“I hope there’s good news waiting for you.”
“Me too. It was nice chatting—even if you did attack me again.”
He winced, making her laugh again.
“See you, Wyatt,” she singsonged.
“See you, Grace,” he singsonged right back.
She left with a smile and it lasted the whole way back to the inn. Wyatt was so easy to talk to. That guardedness he wore like a shield came down when it was just the two of them. She wished he’d ask her on a date, even though she knew nothing could come of it. Her life was here, and his was . . . wherever duty called him apparently.
She was eager for their hike tomorrow though. Her heart squeezed tight when she remembered the look that had come over his face yesterday at the library. He seemed so deflated as he stared at the hundreds of miles represented on the map. She would make it her mission to help him find the closure he needed, whatever it took.
When she reached the inn she opened the door to find Molly assisting an elderly couple with restaurant recommendations. Grace waited patiently while they went through virtually every Bluebell dining option. Finally they headed out the door.
Before Grace could blurt out the question, Levi came down the stairs toting his toolbox. “Hey,” he greeted Grace, then turned to Molly. “The shelf in room five is officially fixed and ready for the Farnsworths. How’d the tour go? Are they having supper now?”
Molly bit her lip. “Um, no. They actually left already.”
“They went out for supper?” Grace asked.
“No . . . they left, left. As in, back to Tennessee.”
“What?” Grace frowned. “Why?”
Levi set the toolbox on the floor. “I thought they were spending the night.”
“I did too. I don’t know what happened. We did the tour, and I talked up the unique history and the inn’s features, and they seemed interested. But when we were finished they just thanked me and said it wasn’t quite what they’d had in mind and they were going to head home.”
Gravity pulled at Grace’s shoulders, her stomach deflating like a week-old party balloon. “You’re kidding me. ‘Not what they had