Hope offered to drive them over to her favorite lunch destination. When they pulled up to an establishment in the historic district, Grayson drank it all in. The sign out front read “Heavenly Soul.” The medium-sized red house with the wraparound porch was inviting. It reminded Grayson of a wonderful house right by the water in Oak Bluffs. It had plenty of appeal.
“What kind of food do they serve?” he asked, his appetite suddenly going into overdrive. All he’d eaten this morning was a bowl of cereal and a banana. Normally he ate a full breakfast of eggs, sausage, toast and bacon.
“Soul food,” Hope said.
He chuckled. “Guess that was a stupid question, huh? I suppose the name says it all.”
Hope closed her eyes and let out a moan. “Soul food that makes you want to do a little dance it’s so good. I can almost taste it on my lips.”
“Wow. That’s resounding praise,” Grayson said. “I have to admit, I’ve never had soul food before.”
Hope’s jaw dropped. “Stop it. Seriously. That’s not even funny.” She studied his expression carefully. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you? You’re a soul food novice.”
“Yes,” Grayson said with a nod. “I am.”
“Extraordinary. Don’t they have soul food in Massachusetts?” Hope said in a teasing tone. He could tell she was having a little fun at his expense, but he didn’t mind. It was nice seeing her more relaxed in his company. And the way her face lit up when she laughed. It made him want to sketch her—to create a masterpiece with just a little charcoal and his sketch pad.
Grayson laughed. “I’m sure they do, but I just haven’t had the opportunity.”
“Well come on then,” Hope said, beckoning him toward the restaurant. “You can thank me later. Your world is about to be rocked.”
“That’s a pretty serious promise,” Grayson said, holding the door of the restaurant open for her. Hope walked past the threshold and greeted the waitress by name. The vibe inside was down-home and intimate. It had the flavor of one of those old roadside cafes. Delectable aromas wafted in the air. The place was packed with guests, even though it wasn’t even noon yet.
“Sit wherever you like, Hope,” the waitress said. She winked at Grayson when Hope wasn’t looking, letting him know she found him appealing.
Grayson shook his head. He wasn’t one who enjoyed being chased by women. He liked to do the chasing, which had always been a bad habit of his. He usually found himself bored when the thrill was gone. It wasn’t something he felt proud about. In fact, he knew he’d hurt a lot of people with his behavior. Even himself. Recently, he’d made a promise to God to change his ways. He yearned for something more meaningful, something that could sustain him for the rest of his days. A woman who could kneel beside him in prayer and make spaghetti and meatballs with him on a Friday night. He was tired of feeling alone.
The waitress handed them menus then took their drink orders—a root beer and a cream soda. As soon as she walked away, Hope began to giggle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Myrtle. Our waitress.” She jutted her chin in Myrtle’s direction. “She was a little bit obvious toward you. I think she was making goo goo eyes at you.”
Grayson wrinkled his nose. “I noticed. She wasn’t very subtle. And she’s not my type.”
“Poor Myrtle,” Hope said, still laughing.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what my type is?” Grayson lobbed the question at Hope.
Hope buried her nose in the menu, studiously ignoring him. “It’s none of my business.”
Grayson leaned across the table. “I like dark-haired women with feisty personalities and deep brown eyes. Ideally she’d be average height with a nice personality and gorgeous bone structure.” Slowly, the menu came down so he could now see Hope’s face.
She scowled at him. “Is this your version of flirting with me?”
“It’s my way of telling you I find you very lovely. From the first moment I saw you I felt an attraction.”
Hope’s cheeks appeared flushed. He knew he was putting her on the spot, but life was too short to play games. He wanted Hope to know he was interested in her. Now that things weren’t so tense about Savannah House, perhaps she could relax in his presence.
She ran a hand through her long hair, then locked gazes with him. “Grayson, I don’t really know to respond to that. I’m flattered, but—”
Hearing the word “but” made him feel a little bit deflated. “But what? You don’t find me attractive? I’m not your type?”
Hope let out an unintelligible sound. “Do I find you attractive? Did the sun rise this morning? You’re the most eye catching, jaw droppingly handsome man I’ve ever seen. Bar none. I think a blind person would find you attractive.” Hope let out a little laugh.
“Now you’re going to make me blush,” Grayson said, his heart swelling to a gigantic size inside his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman’s compliment had affected him in such a ridiculous way. He felt like he could soar if he spread out his arms and flap
ped them around a bit.