Page 35 of Hometown Heart

The familiar banter settled around me like a comfortable sweater. I watched Silas work, noting how his hands never faltered despite Sarah's teasing. There was something mesmerizing about his focus—how he treated each drink as if it were the most important task of his day.

With the crowd thinning, Sarah disappeared into the back with a stack of empty plates, leaving Silas and me alone at the counter. He slid my coffee across the smooth surface.

"Cody, get home okay?" he asked, wiping down the steam wand.

"Yeah. Full of stories about teaching Tyler's cat hockey moves."

"That would be Max. He's mostly interested in sleeping on my delivery invoices." Silas paused, studying me. "You look like you're thinking hard about something."

I wrapped my hands around my warm mug. "I wanted to ask you something."

Silas paused "Oh?"

"Dinner at my place. Would you like to come over for dinner? Tonight, maybe? I know you talked about your family's marinara, and we can keep that on the schedule, too."

Silas set down his cleaning cloth. "Tonight?"

"Unless you're busy. I know it's short notice."

"No, I—" He glanced toward the back room where Sarah had disappeared. "I'd like that. What time?"

"Seven? Cody will be with us. I hope that's..." I took a breath. "He actually suggested it. Having you over."

"Did he?"

"Said our kitchen was too nice to waste. Also mentioned something about you probably being tired of scones."

"Smart kid." Silas flashed a broad smile. "Should I bring anything?"

"Yourself." I stood, gathering my courage along with my coffee.

Our eyes met, and for a moment, Tidal Grounds faded away. Then the door chimed, admitting a group of high school students, and reality reared its head.

"Seven o'clock," Silas confirmed, already reaching for clean cups.

"Seven o'clock," I echoed, backing toward the door.

Chapter eleven

Silas

My boots crunched on newly fallen snow on the sidewalk leading up to the front porch of Jack's house. The late February chill nipped at my exposed skin while snowflakes danced in the glow of the porch light. I held my container of hockey stick marshmallows close under my coat.

Before I reached the door, Jack opened it. The aroma of roasting chicken with herbs reached out, wrapped around me, and pulled me inside. Jack wore a soft gray Henley with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

"Perfect timing." He stepped to the side to let me in. "We've had a slight change of plans."

I heard Cody's voice somewhere above us. I couldn't quite make out the words, but he was excited about something. Jack took my coat and draped it over the back of his living room sofa.

"Tyler's mom, Shannon, invited Cody for a sleepover." He's upstairs packing now and talking to Tyler on the phone. I can drive him over after dinner if you don't mind a brief interruption to our evening."

I instantly recognized an assumption that I would be around after dinner. The invitation wasn't only about sharing a meal. Instead of spending more time analyzing the words, I nodded, smiled, and took in the details of Jack's sparsely furnished home.

He had a simple, slightly distressed dining table set with three plates, everyday glasses, and cloth napkins frayed a bit at the edges. As I followed Jack around, I spotted a few piles of moving boxes still lurking in corners.

Footsteps thundered down the stairs, and Cody appeared, overnight bag slung over one shoulder with his hockey stick protruding. "Silas! Did you bring—oh, awesome, there they are, the marshmallows!" He bounced on the balls of his feet. "Can I take some to Tyler's? I'm sure his mom will let us make hot chocolate later and—"

Jack gently interrupted. "Bud, breathe, and maybe say hello to our guest properly."

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