“Well, it’s . . . it’s getting late,” he said, his gaze finding and holding mine.

“It is.”

He stepped in to me, and his hand coasted away from mine, running up to my elbow. The breath he let out was shaky. Grady tilted his head to the side, lining up his mouth with mine, and I knew then he was going to kiss me.

He was really going to do it!

It had been so long since I’d been kissed, even been in the position to be kissed, and this was going to happen. His pale lashes had lowered. His eyes were closed. His mouth was coming right at mine.

Grady leaned in, slightly lowering his head, and I closed my eyes.

At the last second, without thinking, I turned my head, and Grady’s lips brushed across my cheek. Warmth hit me, a mixture of embarrassment and disappointment. Why had I done that? He wanted to kiss me. I wanted him to do that.

Didn’t I?

Yes, I told myself as I opened my eyes and met his questioning ones. I was just gun shy. I forced a shaky half-smile, one that probably looked more like a grimace. “I had a really good time today.”

“Truly?” he asked.

I nodded. “I did.”

His gaze searched mine and then he smiled a boyish, charming smile. “Then it’s dinner next week? Wednesday?”

“Wednesday,” I confirmed.

This time when Grady leaned in, I didn’t pull away, but it was because he was giving me a hug. I returned it, telling myself that if he tried to kiss me again, I wouldn’t turn away.

I wouldn’t.

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The massive omelet was steaming hot and full of nearly every meat possible—sausage, Italian sausage, bacon, Canadian bacon, and ham. Of course, I squeezed some veggies in there. It had peppers and mushrooms.

And cheese.

Lots of cheese, and I didn’t care that cheese wasn’t a veggie.

I’d never been more excited about anything in my life.

Avery went the steak and eggs route with a side order of extra crispy bacon. And it was a huge T-bone steak. Across from us was a very pregnant Teresa who had a stack of pancakes, a side bowl of fruit, and an order of sausage links.

I loved that these women ate as much as me.

Sunday breakfast was a tradition that had started back in Pennsylvania and had carried over to the West Virginia girls. I’d been invited to join them the moment I showed up at Shepherd all those years ago, because I’d met them through mutual friends. I’d bailed on them more than I joined them, but that was something I was actively changing.

I dug into my omelet as Avery’s phone lit up. She placed her knife down and picked up the phone, laughing softly. “Oh man.”