Page 103 of Hometown Girl

Not the time to think about that. She should worry about much more important things, like whether or not she even remembered how to kiss—because she very much wanted to kiss Drew Barlow right now.

But as the thoughts swirled around in her head, he looked away and started toward the house. “Burgers okay?”

She swallowed her disappointment.

Get it together, Beth.

“Sounds good to me.” She followed him inside.

There, she watched Drew wash and dry his hands, then begin preparing the burgers for the grill.

“Do you like roasted vegetables?” she asked, begging the heat in her cheeks to cool down.

He glanced at her, but his smile seemed forced. “Sounds great.”

An awkwardness passed between them. Did he regret asking her to lunch? Why did she have to overanalyze this? Why couldn’t they be friends and be fine with that? Did it matter that she’d never in her life had a male friend she was so attracted to?

Maybe that was the problem. She needed to figure out a way to be less attracted to him.

“I’ll get the vegetables.” She made a beeline for the refrigerator. Her mind searched for something wrong with him. Something that would make him seem less perfect. There had to be something.

She peeked into the living room, hoping for a mess, but everything was in its place. At the kitchen window, where she washed and peeled potatoes and carrots, she caught a glimpse of him standing at the grill. Chiseled features. Dark hair. Blue eyes. And then there was the way he’d listened as she’d unloaded her whole humiliating admission.

He now knew more about her than her own family.

And that scared her to death.

Because while a part of her seemed to need this man—something she absolutely hadn’t planned on—a part of him still seemed so far away.

“You okay?”

He’d come back in through the side door. She looked down and realized she’d been standing in the same spot, holding the same potato for probably two full minutes.

“Fine.” She hurried up and peeled the rest of the vegetables, cut them, tossed them in olive oil, salt and pepper, then spread them out on a cookie sheet to bake.

Drew leaned against the counter, finished off a bottle of water and tossed the empty container in the garbage can.

“I wanted to thank you for all the work you’ve been doing around here,” Beth said, anxious to fill the silence.

“You’ve thanked me plenty. I’m happy to do it.” He looked comfortable with his arms crossed in front of him, his worn gray T-shirt fitted enough to show the definition in his arms. Silence didn’t seem to unnerve him the way it did her. In fact, he seemed to prefer it.

Maddening when she wanted nothing more than to hear what he thought about as he was hauling, painting, finishing, restoring ...

She shifted, uncomfortable under the weight of his gaze. “I’m trying to be better about appreciating people who deserve it.”

He studied her, almost too intently. “Better than what?”

She swallowed. This was called stupid conversation. She didn’t need to get into every single one of her fatal flaws in the same day.

He waited until their eyes met again. “I feel appreciated.”

She nodded, searching for something—anything—to say, but the only question she really wanted answered was one she wouldn’t ask again.

Why are you here?

He’d tell her when he was ready.

Or maybe never.

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