Trinity Falls (Finding Home 1)

She waved her fork. “We have nothing in common. You’re a university professor. I’ve always hated school.”

“We both went to college.”

“I love going to Broadway plays and concerts. Your idea of a cultural experience is preordering the next hardcover release of one of your favorite authors.”

“We both have a connection to bookstores.”

Ramona sighed. “You never lose your temper— except with me. Some people have said I have a short fuse.”

“Those people are right.”

She feigned a frown, but Quincy saw the laughter in her eyes. “So why are you attracted to me when we’re both so different?”

Quincy claimed a broccoli spear with his fork. “I don’t think we are.” He held her gaze while he chewed and swallowed the vegetable.

“I’m serious, Quincy. I really want to know.”

So did he. “All I know is that when you walk into a room, my common sense walks out. You’re the reason for my insomnia. And the thought of seeing you is enough to give me a stroke.”

Ramona frowned at him in silence for several long seconds. “Are you trying to be romantic? Those are all bad things.”

“Those words didn’t make your heart flutter?”

“Not in the slightest.”

He took his courage in both hands and laid his heart bare. “You stayed in Trinity Falls after your grandfather died so your cousin wouldn’t be alone. You ran for mayor because no one else would. You hired a drunk to read stories to a group of children because he said he needed a job. And when he used the money to get drunk, you did the reading, then drove him home.”

Ramona’s shocked expression wasn’t encouraging. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Not only are you smart, beautiful and ambitious, you have a big heart. I don’t know if that’s why I . . . I’m attracted to you. I can only tell you that I am.” His stumble over the L-word almost triggered a heart attack.

Ramona blinked. “Then why are you leaving Trinity Falls?”

Every muscle in his body tensed. “Is there a reason for me to stay?”

Ramona lowered her gaze to her half-eaten salmon. “I don’t know.”

Ean and Megan arrived outside her home. He could see the lights she’d left on in her foyer so she wouldn’t return to a dark house at the end of the day. They glowed in her front window, making the structure appear to have two eyes staring fixedly from her house.

Megan had been darting glances at him throughout their walk from Books & Bakery. Somewhere along the way, she’d linked her arm with his. Had she felt his tension?

They hadn’t talked about what he really wanted to know—Megan’s true reaction to Ramona’s trip to his office. Instead, they’d spent the last thirty minutes dissecting every inane topic he could introduce: work, what they’d accomplished, their to-do lists for the rest of the week.

He couldn’t stall any longer.

Grow a pair, Fever.

“Thanks for defending me to Tilda this afternoon.”

Megan released his arm to cup the side of his face. Her touch was so soft. “Is that what’s been bothering you tonight? Don’t worry about Tilda. She gets paranoid. I usually ignore her. But we can’t have her distracting other members of the group with her theory that Ramona is looking for allies.”

“So you don’t believe that I’m working with Ramona to drive the businesses out of the center?”

Megan led him up the winding walkway to her front door. Her voice snapped with irritation. “Of course not. That was a totally baseless accusation.”

Emboldened by relief, he continued his questions. Ean stopped on the step below her. “And you know that Ramona and I are never getting back together?”

“Oh yes.” Megan’s eyes shone under her porch lights. “I’ve known that for a while.”