Small-Town Homecoming. Lissa Manley
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Curt turned dark eyes her way.
“Thank you. And I need these to be perfect because two of them will be for a wedding reception I’m catering here tomorrow. I have to remake them.” She made all of her dough from scratch, so the process wasn’t as quick as unrolling premade store-bought crust. “I’ll do that later tonight.”
“Remember, I have the play at my school tonight,” Sam piped in, plopping down in one of the kitchen chairs next to the small table set in one corner. “You promised you’d come.”
She arranged her face in a serene expression; she had forgotten about the play, not that she’d let Sam know that. “And I never break my promises, so I’ll be there.” It would be a late night. Unless... She looked at her watch. Still relatively early. “Maybe I could get them done now, before dinner.”
“I thought we were going to work on my model car,” Sam said, his voice bordering on a whine.
Where was her brain? “Oh, yeah, we were. No problem.” She wasn’t about to flake out on Sam, not when so many other adults in his life had done so. Even if it meant staying up late to remake her pies. “Go get it out of your backpack, and we’ll get right on it.”
Curt looked back and forth between them, both brows raised. “Model car?”
“Yeah!” Sam said, jumping from the chair. He puffed out his chest. “I bought it with my own money.”
Jenna smiled. Sam had saved for months to buy the model kit.
“Cool, dude,” Curt said, nodding. “I built a few models in my day.”
Sam’s eyes went wide. “You did?”
“You bet. I’ve always been into cars.”
“You wanna help me?” Sam said.
Jenna held out a hand. “Sam, Mr. Graham just arrived. I’m sure he has other things to do.”
Curt turned his long-lashed eyes her way.
She forced herself not to stare.
“Actually, I don’t start work at the Sports Shack until tomorrow,” Curt said. “So after I get changed, I’ll have plenty of time to help him.”
She blinked, a bit taken aback by his offer. “He just sprayed you in the face with a garden hose.”
Curt shrugged one broad shoulder. “No harm, no foul.” He scruffed Sam’s head. “Besides, he apologized. So no hard feelings.”
Wow. What a generous offer. “Well...”
“And if I help him with the model,” Curt said, continuing, “you’ll have time to get your pies in the oven, and everyone’s happy.”
“I don’t want to impose,” she said, holding back out of courtesy, even though letting him take over with the model car project would help her out. She had a lot on her plate these days. Actually, her plate was overflowing. But she’d deal. She’d promised Grams she’d keep the inn going, and she would, no matter what.
Besides, Flahertys never failed.
“It isn’t an imposition.” Curt looked at Sam. “It’ll be fun. I haven’t built one of those models in years.”
“Are you sure?” Jenna asked, touched by his generosity. “Because I can fit the pies in later tonight.” She was used to working odd hours.
“I’m sure.”
“Please, Miss Jenna,” Sam said, bouncing up and down. “I really want someone who knows what they’re doing to help me.”
Her resolve frittered away. How could she refuse Sam, especially when she knew he’d craved interaction with adult men ever since his dad had gone to prison? Sam needed a role model, for sure.
Of course, she was assuming a lot about Curt Graham being an appropriate role model, and, obviously, she didn’t know him at all. But she knew his brother Seth, and he was a good man. A great man, actually, with a wonderful family of his own. Besides, Sam and Curt would be right here with her the whole time. She could supervise.
“All right, then,” she capitulated. “I’ll bake while you guys work on the model.”
Sam whooped. “Yippee! I’ll go get it.”
“Hold on, cowboy. You need to go change your clothes first,” she reminded the boy. “Do you remember where we put your change of clothes, in the closet down the hall?”
“I remember.” Grinning, Sam ran out of the kitchen, then skidded to a halt and turned in the arched doorway that led to the formal dining room and living room. “I’ll meet you back here, Mr. Graham, okay?”
Curt saluted. “Okay. See you back here in a few.”
Sam took off again, and Jenna heard his footsteps clomping on the hardwood hallway that led to the closet.
She turned her gaze to Curt. “Are you sure about this? You must be tired after driving in from...” Oh. She had no idea where he’d come from.
“L.A., but I overnighted in Portland, so I only drove a couple hours today. And I’m not tired at all. But I am wet,” he said, gesturing down to his damp clothes. “I’ll go grab my stuff and get changed, and then Sam and I can get busy on his project.”
She pressed a hand to her mouth, bemoaning her absent brain again. “Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry. I kept you in here, talking, in wet clothes.”
He shook his head, his brown eyes glinting. “No worries. I’m tough.”
Yes, she could see that. Tall. Strong-looking. Tough for sure. And handsome with his dark curly hair and café au lait eyes. Something fluttered in her chest and she recognized the feeling for what it was—she was attracted to Curt Graham. No doubt about it.
She cleared her throat, a bit dismayed by her reaction. “Well, thank you for your offer. I really appreciate it, and I’m sure Sam does, too.”
Curt pointed toward the front of the house. “Let me go get my luggage. Where should I take it?”
Oh, yes, another detail forgotten. Curt Graham had her flustered, indeed. “I’ll meet you at the front door and take you up to the Carnation Room.”
“Great,” he said, heading out the same archway Sam had gone through. “I’ll be right back.”
Jenna watched Curt go, appreciating his lean yet broad-shouldered frame and his decidedly masculine, confident way of moving. He definitely was nice to look at. She shook her head and tried to reel her interest in, forcing herself to recall her last relationship during her senior year in college.
Garrett had had the same kind of confidence as Curt, and had been fun-loving and thoughtful, too. She’d gone with her heart 100 percent and had flung herself into a relationship with him. But she’d been wrong in the end about him. And she’d come away with a broken heart and one more reason to believe that she wasn’t good enough.
She’d learned then and there that she needed to be cautious in love. Thoughtful. Picky. She wholeheartedly believed in the romantic gold standard she saw in her parents’, brother’s and grandparents’ marriages. She wanted what they had. Desperately.
She headed out to the foyer, reiterating her mantra: when I fall in love, I will not settle for anything less than a man who will make all my dreams come true. Curt seemed good at a glance, but only time would tell the story about him she needed to hear.
Until then, she had to keep her interest in him under tight control. And her gaze away from those gorgeous brown eyes of his.
Chapter Two
“So, do you have any kids?”
Curt looked at a bright-eyed Sam perched on the edge of the chair next to him. Man, Sam was a curious little guy. So far