Small-Town Homecoming. Lissa Manley

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СКАЧАТЬ Sam faced, what with his dad in prison and his mom juggling two jobs to make ends meet.

      But the last thing she needed was to lose a client because of Sam’s behavior. Business was down at the Sweetheart, and with her bank account depleted by the costly repairs Grams had put off and that were now Jenna’s responsibility, she needed every penny of income she could get just to keep the place afloat.

      Mr. Graham looked at her over Sam’s head, then jerked his chin toward the hose. “You might want to get that thing while you can.”

      “Oh, yeah.” She went over to the hose bib and turned the water off at the source. Picking up the nozzle, she dragged the hose over and put it under a large rhododendron bush, where Sam would have a harder time getting to it.

      “Let me go,” Sam whined, trying in vain to pry Mr. Graham’s well-muscled arm loose from its seemingly iron grip around Sam’s waist.

      Setting her jaw, she headed in their direction. As she neared, she couldn’t help noticing that being blasted by a torrent of water hadn’t detracted from Mr. Graham’s good looks one bit. His short dark hair stood on end, but with his tall build, lean but muscular physique and matching dark eyes, he was one good-looking guy, indeed.

      She shoved that rogue thought aside, her ire at Sam rising again. But she tamped it down, reminding herself that she needed to be firm yet loving with the boy. Sam was going through a rough time and needed levelheaded discipline like nobody’s business.

      “Mr. Graham will put you down as soon as you calm yourself, Sammy.” She looked at Mr. Graham, nodding slightly. “Right?”

      He nodded back, clearly getting her drift. “Right. But no more funny stuff, bud. This kind of behavior isn’t cool.”

      Sam quit squirming and went still in Mr. Graham’s arms. “Yeah, I guess.”

      Mr. Graham lowered him to the ground, but kept his hands on the boy’s narrow shoulders while he leaned sideways to look him in the eye. “I want a promise that you’re going to behave.”

      “All right, I promise,” Sam grudgingly said.

      “Good deal.” Mr. Graham let go of Sam’s shoulders and stepped back as he wiped the water from his face, though he’d probably have to change clothes, Jenna thought. His short-sleeved light blue polo shirt and jeans were soaked.

      Sam skittered sideways, out of the man’s reach, but otherwise stayed put and kept his promise. For now. She knew better than anyone that Sam had a hard time staying out of trouble.

      Relieved that the garden hose crisis had passed, Jenna stepped forward and extended her hand to Mr. Graham. “Belatedly, I’m Jenna Flaherty, owner of the Sweetheart Inn.”

      He wiped his hand on his jeans and held it out, engulfing her hand in his large grip. “Yes, we talked last week. Nice to meet you. As I said before, I’m Curt Graham.”

      “I recognize you,” she said, details coming together in her mind.

      He cocked his head to the side. “Really?”

      “Yes, you used to live in Moonlight Cove, right? I spent summers here at the Sweetheart with my grandmother and grandfather, Jean and Silas Marton.” Every teenage girl in town had been aware of the Graham brothers. Though she was a few years younger than Curt, she’d eventually been old enough to appreciate him when she’d seen him in town during the summer. Of course, she’d been much too shy and awkward to ever speak to him.

      “I remember your grandparents,” Curt said, nodding slowly. “Your grandpa drove a big black Caddy, didn’t he?”

      “Yes, he did. He loved that car.” It had just about killed Jenna to have to sell it to a collector a year ago to pay for a new roof for the inn.

      “They ran this place for years, didn’t they?”

      She nodded. “They started it back in the sixties.” They’d put years of hard work and sweat into running the inn. Her chest clutched a bit. “My grandpa died three years ago, and I moved down here to help Grandma with the place.” A massive heart attack had killed Gramps instantly. Grams had never really been the same—losing her partner after so many idyllic years of marriage had devastated her.

      “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. How’s your grandma doing?”

      “Not so well.” Jenna sighed shakily. “She has some pretty severe dementia, and I had to move her into a nursing home three months ago.” The horrific disease had robbed Grams of the ability to care for herself, and with the inn to run, Jenna had had no choice but to move her to a skilled-care facility.

      “Oh, that’s rough,” Curt said, his eyes soft. “My grandpa died of complications from Alzheimer’s.”

      “So you know how difficult it is.” Putting her grandma in a home had been the hardest thing Jenna had ever had to do. “But she’s happy there, and gets excellent care. I visit every Sunday.” Thankfully, due to Gramps’s careful investing, Grams had the money to pay for her care. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had the head or the heart for maintaining the inn in the past few years, so that responsibility had fallen to Jenna when Grams had signed over the deed to the inn a little over a year ago.

      “I’m sure you did the right thing.”

      “Thanks.” Jenna wasn’t so sure, but she was trying to deal with all that had happened, and was determined to make a success of the Sweetheart.

      Shifting gears, she moved her gaze to Sam, who stood nearby, fidgeting. She gave him a stern look. “Sam, is there something you need to do?”

      Sam blinked, looked around, then glanced down at his wet T-shirt. “Change clothes?”

      She crossed her arms over her chest. “How about you apologize to Mr. Graham?”

      “Oh, yeah.” Sam hunched his shoulders and looked at the grass at Curt’s feet. “Sorry I got you wet.”

      “You need to look him in the eye when you apologize,” she reminded Sam. She did her best to instill manners and respect in Sam.

      He huffed but complied, looking up—way up—at Curt. “I’m sorry I got you wet.”

      “Mr. Graham,” Jenna reminded.

      “Who else would I be talking to?” Sam said.

      Jenna held on to her patience with a thin thread. “No, you need to say, ‘I’m sorry I got you wet, Mr. Graham.’”

      Sam rolled his eyes, then stopped himself and looked at Curt again, a smidgen of contrition shining through. “I’m sorry I got you wet, Mr. Graham.”

      Curt smoothed his damp hair back. “Well, I was a boy your age once, so I know all about being wild.” He smiled at Sam. “And a little water never hurt anyone. But you need to listen to your mom when she talks to you, okay?”

      Sam scrunched his face up. “She’s not my mom.”

      Jenna stepped forward. “I take care of Sam after school.”

      “Ah, I see,” Curt said.

      “Why СКАЧАТЬ