Page 25 of Just Let Go

Lane glanced at her.

“Quinn just bought the Forget-Me-Not Flower Shop down the block,” Ryan said.

Lane’s face lit up. “You did? I love that place. It would be so gorgeous if you exposed more of the brick—maybe even painted it white—and brought out the natural color of the wood floors. It’s such a great old building and—” She stopped. “I’m sorry. You didn’t ask for my opinion.”

“Actually, I’d love your opinion. I just don’t know if I can afford it.” Quinn had looked at Lane’s website every day since she foundout Mimi was retiring. Her business, Memory Lane Designs, was so successful—Quinn could only imagine what Lane’s rates were.

“I’ll give you the friends and family deal,” Lane said with a wink. “I have a vested interest in downtown Harbor Pointe. If it looks good and the businesses do well, we all benefit.”

Quinn smiled. “I would love that.”

“We’ll come by later today.”

The front door of the restaurant opened, and a collective silence settled on the whole place. It was as if they sensed Grady Benson before he even set foot inside. Quinn’s eyes scanned the other patrons, expecting to see glares and grimaces given the damage he’d caused to this very diner.

But apparently she was the only one who remembered—even Betsy almost looked happy to see him. The owner of Hazel’s moved out from behind the counter and over to where Grady stood, looking like a child on his first day of kindergarten. They talked for a few seconds, and then Betsy pointed back to their corner, probably to Ryan, who would most likely be handling whatever help Grady had been sentenced to offer.

Lucy leaned in. “He might have a temper, but he sure is good-looking.” She nudged Quinn with her elbow.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Quinn said.

“What are you, dead?” Lucy rested her chin on her hand, propped up on the table by her elbow.

“I’m sureDerekwould love to hear you think so,” Quinn said.

Hailey sauntered over with wide eyes and three plates of food. “How crazy is it we have anOlympianin Harbor Pointe?”

“And a hot one at that.”

Quinn took her plate and rolled her eyes. “I don’t see what the big deal is about this guy. He’s like a walking disaster.”

Lucy and Hailey exchanged one of their knowing glances across the table—the kind that said,We know something you don’t know.

Quinn stabbed her scrambled eggs with her fork and shook her head. “Di-sas-ter.”

But as Betsy led Grady Benson past Quinn’s table, her eyes met his for a split second, and Quinn quickly glanced away. Lucy was right. He was good-looking. But good-looking meant nothing to her—not when it came to troubled souls and entitled athletes.

And that’s all Grady Benson was, as far as she was concerned.

CHAPTER

7

COMING BACK TO HAZEL’S KITCHENwas an exercise in humility, for sure. Grady didn’t expect the wild-haired owner to be kind to him. He expected her to throw him out, despite the judge’s orders. But apparently that’s not how Betsy Tanner operated.

She greeted him at the front door, which was good since he was dreading the prying eyes of every one of her customers—people who definitely knew what he’d done. The proof was all around them.

Thankfully, the news had died down, and as far as he could tell, there were only a few straggling reporters sticking around Harbor Pointe. The others had moved on to chase the underbelly of someone else’s life.

“You’re right on time,” Betsy said, tucking a small notebook into the pocket of her apron.

“You can say a lot of things about me, but you can’t say I’m not punctual.” Grady forced a smile. He’d been ordered to report to Hazel’s at 8a.m., and while he still had every intention of figuring a way out of this mess, for today, this is where he had to be. Off tothe side, one part of the restaurant—the unusable side—had been sectioned off. There was a gaping hole in the wall where he’d shoved Jimmy into it, his shoulder doing the brunt of the damage.

He really had made a wreck of things.

“You hungry? I can get you something before you start. I’ll take you over to meet Ryan Brooks—he’s the guy in charge of mostof the repairs.” She pointed to a table near the back of the diner, but the man’s back was all he saw. Kitty-corner from him, though, werethe sheriff’s daughter and her friends.

She didn’t like him—but he couldn’t blame her.

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