“My publicist would love it,” he said. “It’d be great for sales.”
Another tear rolled down her cheek. Without thinking, he reached out to wipe it with his fingertip, feeling the damp warmth of her skin. She was flushed, her cheeks pink and glowing, and it did something to him.
Something really damn good.
“You’re really pretty,” he told her, his voice soft. Through heavy eyelids he took her in. High cheekbones, soft lips, a nose so straight he could draw a line with it, and those damn eyes that weren’t crying anymore.
They were staring into his instead.
She was only a couple of feet away from him, but it felt too far. A step forward closed the gap. Then he was running his finger from her cheekbone down to her lips, tracing the bow along the top as her warm breath caressed him.
God, she was so warm and soft. He slid his palm around the nape of her neck, angling her face up. And all the time she was silent, her gaze appraising him, as though she was waiting for him to make his next move.
He leaned closer and her chest hitched. Sliding his other hand around her waist, Gray pulled her body against his. The need for her thrummed through him, desire replacing adrenaline in his bloodstream.
She blinked and he swore he could feel her lashes against his skin. His lips were a breath away from hers, so close, and he could taste the anticipation of her on the tip of his tongue.
“Cora,” he whispered, lowering his mouth to hers. “What are you doing to me?”
It was like a switch had been flicked. She jerked her head back, cutting the connection between them. Running the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip, she shook her head and took a step back.
“I’m sorry. You should be okay now. I need to go…” She glanced at her watch.
It was Gray’s turn to blink. What the hell just happened? One minute it seemed inevitable that his lips would be on hers. The next? It was like somebody dumped a bucket of ice water over him.
He opened his mouth to thank her, but she was already gone, running toward the town square without a glance back at him. Gray watched her with a sigh. She was intriguing as hell. And if she thought she could escape him, he knew better.
Eating breakfast at the diner might become his new favorite pastime.
Chapter Seven
“There’s no way you ran through peoples’ yards and climbed over their fences,” Tanner said, shaking his head after Gray recounted his escape from the church.
Gray’d been home for a couple of hours now, and Aunt Gina had served up lunch. He and Tanner were cleaning up the kitchen as she and Becca sat with his dad. “You’re making it up.”
“I’m not. Go and ask Cora Jean at the diner. She’s the one who helped me.”
“Cora Jean?” Tanner raised a dark eyebrow. “You’re telling me Cora Jean jumped over a seven foot wall?” He grinned. “Now I know you’re lying.”
“Why would I be lying?” Gray asked, his voice full of confusion.
“Because Cora Jean is seventy-four. You must remember her from when we were kids. She was always hollering at us for making a mess.” Tanner frowned. “Come on, you have to remember?”
“I really don’t recall a Cora Jean.” He frowned, willing his brain to work. “Wait… you mean the Battleaxe?”
“Yeah.” Tanner nodded. “Tiny old lady. White hair pulled back into a bun.” He took a breath. “And apparently really great at vaulting walls.”
Gray ran the pad of his thumb along his bottom lip.
“She wasn’t old,” he told Tanner, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. “She couldn’t have been more than twenty-five.” And yeah, she was young and pretty and made him want to laugh in a way he hadn’t in a long time.
And he’d wanted to kiss the hell out of her until they were both breathless.
“But she said her name’s Cora Jean?”
“Yeah. She works in the diner.”
“What can I tell you.” Tanner shrugged. “The only person under the age of fifty working in the diner is Maddie, and I’m pretty sure you’d know her since you dated her sister for three years.”