I couldn’t tell what he was doing; I just heard a bunch of clattering from the oven. Curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to push further, wondering if he’d open up more than usual since his head was shoved in the back of an appliance, and he couldn’t see my reactions.
“Can I ask why you left school early?” He stilled his movement and pulled his head out, fiddling with whatever tool was in his hands. “It’s kind of a long story, Hart. I’ll save you the time.”
I made a humming noise and squinted my eyes at him.
“What?”
I twisted my lips in my thoughts. “I’m just trying to figure out if everyone is right and you are some secret undercover cop.”
He chuckled and continued working on my oven. “Nope. Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not that interesting.”
If he only knew how interesting this whole town found him.
“No special forces?”
“Nope.”
“Not even a drug cartel member on the run?”
He shook his head no. “Sorry, Hart.”
My shoulders slump, disappointed I didn’t know more about the man in front of me. I tended to want to figure people out, to dissect and break down their personalities and why they did the things they did. I was typically pretty intuitive, but Grant made it impossible for me to get below the surface.
He placed his arms in the back of the oven again, and I had an urge to run my hands over his back lightly.
When he finished up, he pulled his head out of the appliance and reached for my hand. We both stood up and leaned against the counter.
“Is it all good? Does it work now?”
He turned around to the island to hit the buttons that made the standard beep the oven always made. “Oh, uh, yeah, you’re good. It’s all good to go.”
I excitedly clap my hands together. “Thank you so much! I would’ve been screwed if I couldn’t bring those desserts in on Saturday afternoon. I signed up for four different teacher spots, and I couldn’t disappoint them all.”
He let out a sigh, and his shoulders hung down. “Do you always just go around doing things to make other people happy?”
I thought about it for a second.
“I guess so. It doesn’t really bother me. I’ve always done that.”
Being a chronic people-pleaser wasn’t all bad; you got to be the ray of sunshine in someone’s dark days. Sometimes you were the only sunlight they got to see. I found it’s the ones who are the darkest and need the most light.
If anything, I got my ability to always be kind from my grandmother, and I couldn’t think of a better trait to be passed down to me. My parents weren’t rude by any means, just very black and white. You never had to wonder what they thought because they were sure to let you know. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; in fact, it was easier. You were less likely to get your heart broken that way.
Constantly pleasing others left you expecting the same back, even though you never asked for it. I couldn’t help but wonder what it was like to float through life focusing on yourself—putting yourself first and not wondering how you were doing others wrong.
“You should try standing up for yourself. You can’t just be pushed around forever. Sometimes you’ve got to make some people uncomfortable to get what’s best for you.” Grant walked around the island to the other side of my couch and nodded his head at me, signaling me to come to him.
Without skipping a beat, I took a seat on the couch and patted the cushion next to me. He joined me, and we found ourselves in the same position as the bar—only this time with no one to interrupt us.
“Why did you get your grandmother’s house instead of your family?”
“Part of me doesn’t even know the answer to that question. I guess I was the only one she trusted not to sell it. My family isn’t exactly warm-hearted like she was; they would all prefer to sell, take the cash, and run.”
He took the opportunity to place his hand over mine and trace circles on my open palm while I was talking. I leaned closer to his embrace, heat radiating through me.
“My grandmother wasn’t the type to let something as important as that house go just for money. I suppose that’s why she never sold it before. She knew the land alone was worth a small fortune, and if she invested some money in the house, she would get a great profit. But I think she knew the roots of that house ran deeper than money. That household’s memories of my childhood I never want to be erased. Even with all of the remodeling you’re doing, she’s still in there. It still holds its character and the beauty underneath all that ugly wallpaper.” The fond idea of Gram put me at ease and relaxed me in Grant’s presence.
“You must have been close. She sounds a lot like you, honestly.” My cheeks were getting warm, and my heart was beating out of my chest.