Finders Keepers. Ingrid Weaver

      Before Brittany could ask Jesse to explain what he was seeking, the bell over the restaurant door signalled the arrival of another customer. It was Ian Taylor, a local real estate agent, who turned out to be the man Jesse was waiting for. She ushered them to the booth against the back wall next to a plastic philodendron. By the time she returned with their glasses of iced tea, they were deep in discussion. It wasn’t hard to deduce the topic. One not-very-subtle glance at the documents that were spread on the table between them confirmed her guess.

      Jesse was selling his family home.

      Well, it was bound to happen. She was surprised he had hung on to the property as long as he had. The land was poor, and the house had been badly neglected even before the family had abandoned it. This was no concern of hers, anyway. Her relationship with Jesse had been mostly in her mind. She should be pleased that she and her parents would be getting some new neighbors. She had absolutely no reason to feel sad. Maybe now she could close that disastrous chapter of her life for good.

      Yet her crush on Jesse hadn’t been all bad. Sure, it had led her into making some serious mistakes, but she’d learned from them, hadn’t she? She wasn’t waiting for anyone to rescue her. She began taking control of her life the day she forced herself to stop hiding behind her hair. She had changed.

      Apparently, so had Jesse. The distinctive Harley and the leather jacket had thrown her at first. Now that she could observe him more thoroughly, she saw other differences in addition to the ones she’d noticed earlier. He used to work at a garage in town, and he regularly tinkered with his father’s cars, but there was no trace of grease or motor oil on his hands now, not even along the cuticles. The expensive-looking gold watch that circled his wrist was at odds with the plain white T-shirt he wore. His demeanor as he spoke to Ian was businesslike, as if he was no stranger to dealing with legal contracts. The tough-guy image was further eroded when he put on a pair of reading glasses to scrutinize the fine print.