“You’re a real sweet talker.”
“That’s the effect you have on me, Cora Jean.” He grinned.
Her own lips twitched. It was almost impossible not to smile at him. God, he looked good. His gray long-sleeved t-shirt did nothing to hide the contours of his chest or the size of his biceps, and his dark jeans clung to his ass like they never wanted to let go.
When they’d first locked eyes in the diner, she’d expected him to recognize her right away. She hadn’t changed that much since she was a kid – or at least she didn’t think so. And yet there was no hint of recognition in his eyes as she’d wiped the coffee from his fingers.
And for some strange reason she liked that. She didn’t have to explain why she was still living here in Hartson’s Creek, years after she was supposed to have left. Didn’t have to tell him that while he was topping the charts in five different countries, she’d been living with her mom and flinging hash to keep a roof over their head.
For a few minutes back there, she’d liked being somebody else. But it was fleeting, she knew that. Somebody only had to walk past and greet her and he’d figure out exactly who she was. Nobody flew under the radar in this town.
“My break’s over,” she told him, swallowing the last of her coffee. “I need to get back.”
He nodded and took a step back. “Well, it was good to meet you, Cora Jean. Thanks for breakfast, and for saving me from scrambled sperm.”
She laughed and shook her head, flipping her braid over her shoulder as she stood. “Any time.”
Then she turned and walked to the diner without looking back, because her throat felt too tight to look at him again. As soon as she pulled the door open and stepped inside she let out a lungful of air.
Gray Hartson ate breakfast with her. If she told the story at Chairs they’d be talking about her for weeks.
Which was exactly why she wouldn’t tell a soul.
Chapter Five
“I never thought I’d see the day when you’d come to church willingly,” Aunt Gina said as she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and they walked up the steps to the First Baptist Church right off the town square
“What else is there to do on a Sunday morning?” Gray shrugged.
“Becca and Tanner found things to do.”
“They aren’t even awake yet.” Gray smiled at his aunt. “And I’m all kinds of jetlagged. My body doesn’t know if it’s yesterday or tomorrow.”
“Well, you’re a good boy.” She pulled her hand from his crook and patted his face. “Though you could have shaved.”
“I’m hoping God’ll forgive a few hairs.”
He pushed open the c
hurch door and swallowed hard as everybody turned to look at them. The benches were full-to-bursting with worshippers, and what looked like some non-worshippers, too. He could see a few of the latter tapping furiously on their phones. He swallowed hard, hoping word about him being here wasn’t going to get out.
“It’s busy today,” Aunt Gina murmured, patting his arm. “A lot of younger folk, too.” She tisked as she saw the phones. As they passed one girl who was blatantly recording him, Gina glared at her. “Can you believe that?” she hissed. “They’re not even embarrassed about it.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”
“Well I’m not.” There was a deep ‘v’ notched into the skin between her eyes. “It’s so rude.”
Gray led her to a bench a few rows back from the front, and everybody shuffled across to make room for them. He recognized a few faces there – parents of his old friends and friends of his parents. Their faces a little more worn, their hair whiter than when he’d left, but still the same.
Somebody tapped him on the shoulder and he turned to see a phone held out by a teenage girl. “Can I have a selfie with you?”
“Uh. Yeah. Sure.”
Before he could even get the last word out, she was putting her shoulder next to his and angling the phone at their faces. “Hey,” she said as she took what seemed like a hundred shots. “Are you going to sing today?”
“Of course he’s going to sing,” the girl next to her said. From the color of their hair and the similarity of their features, he assumed they were sisters. “It’s a church. We have hymns, you idiot.”
“I meant up front. A solo. Wouldn’t that be amazing? I could record it.” The first girl’s eyes lit up. “Do you have an Insta account? I’ll tag you in the pic. Oh, could you comment on it? That would drive Ella Jackson crazy. She says she’s your biggest fan, but she doesn’t even know all the words to Along the River.”