groaned and raised a hand to her face. “Ugh, did I just say that? Not that I’m not sorry about your loss, but—”
He chuckled softly and gave her an understanding look. “I’m sorry for your loss, too. There. Now we’re even on banal expressions.” He shrugged. “Although I’ve decided to cut folks a break. I don’t think I’d know what to say to any of my friends if their wives died, either. Other than, Man, that sucks.”
They shared a wry grin. The flicker of humor in his dark eyes mesmerized her, and after a moment, she realized she was staring at him. He had the kind of face that held a woman’s attention—square jaw, full lips, straight nose. As she shook herself from her trance, her pulse fluttered.
She adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder and sidled toward the door. “I should be going.”
“Right. Well—” He offered his hand. “—It was nice to meet you, Elise.”
“You, too.” She took his hand, and his long fingers and warm palm folded around hers in an encompassing grasp. Firm. Strong. Dependable.
She let her hand linger in his, puzzling over the words that had sprung to mind. Thinking she could tell anything about his character from his handshake was preposterous. And of all the traits a man could be, why was his dependability what came to mind?
“Will you come back next week?”
His question roused her from her sidetracked thoughts.
Would she be back? Coming tonight had taken her weeks of preparation and building her nerve. “Maybe. I, um …”
He squeezed her hand before releasing it. “Maybe is good enough. No pressure. Just think about it.”
And think, she did. All week. But not just about whether she’d return to the grief-support meeting. She thought about Jared Coleman. The way he’d lost his wife. His one-year-old daughter, who was walking. His dark, compassionate eyes.
When she weighed whether she wanted to return to the support group, her reluctance to open herself to the pain of rehashing Grace’s death was tempered by a desire to see Jared again. The connection she’d felt with him had been real. Hadn’t it? But was her interest in Jared about feeling less alone in her grief or about the flutter of attraction she’d experienced when he’d held her hand? She wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, especially not one with his own baggage and a daughter who’d remind her every day of Gracie. So why did his lopsided smile keep drifting through her mind?
“Goodbye, Princess.” Jared kissed his daughter on the top of her head as he moved toward the door the next Thursday night. “Be good for Grandma.”
“She’s always good. Aren’t you, Isabel?” his mother asked as she helped guide Isabel’s spoon to her mouth. Which was progress. “Will you be late?”
“Shouldn’t be. The support group never runs later than eight o’clock. You know that.” He shoved his arms in his jacket, then fumbled in his pocket for his keys.
“What I know is that you don’t have any sort of social life,” his mother said, and Jared groaned.
Here we go again …
“A handsome young man like you should be dating. It’s been almost a year since Kelly died, and—”
“It’s been nine months,” he corrected, “and I’m not ready to date again. I may never be. No one can ever replace Kelly.” He jangled the keys in his hand impatiently. How many times in the past few weeks had he had this same conversation?
“I’m not suggesting anyone replace her. But there are plenty of other women who have merits of their own. There’s a perfectly lovely girl in my office who—”
He huffed a sigh of exasperation. “I can find my own dates, Mom.”
“But you don’t.” She aimed Isabel’s spoon at him to punctuate her point.
“Because I don’t want to date. I told you it’s too soon.”
“A young man like you has … needs. Physical needs that—”
Jared shuddered. “Stop!” He held up a hand and marched quickly to the back door. “Do not go there.”
He was not discussing his sex life with his mother.
“I’m just saying—”
“See you a little after eight, Mom. Good night!” He exited quickly and shook his head as he strolled to his car. He knew his mother meant well, but the idea of dating again stirred a sharp ache in his chest and an uneasy sense of guilt in his gut. Damn, but he missed Kelly so much some days he could barely stand it.
As he cranked his car’s engine, he recalled the new woman who’d visited the grief-support group last week. Elise Norris. Her glossy blonde hair, bright blue eyes and sad smile had filtered through his thoughts at odd moments this past week. While he showered. While he tried to fall asleep. When he woke in the morning.
His pulse kicked up at the prospect of seeing her again tonight, and he frowned to himself. He’d just finished telling his mother that he wasn’t ready to date. So why was he anticipating seeing Elise tonight with schoolboylike nerves?
Okay, yes, they’d had a certain connection in the few moments they’d talked, but that was hardly reason to get all worked up. On the heels of the anxious flutter, cumbersome thoughts of Kelly rose to quash any notion of pursuing his attention to Elise. Just five years ago he’d stood at the altar and promised to forsake all others for Kelly. How could he think of another woman when Kelly hadn’t even been gone for a year?
Raising his daughter had to be his focus now. Not finding a new wife.
Elise had almost made up her mind to skip the next support-group meeting when she remembered the Harrisons. Knowing that they’d also lost a baby made her want to reach out to them. If anyone could understand the hole in her heart, she guessed the young couple could. And maybe she could offer them some support, as well.
By the time she arrived at the meeting, there were only two chairs left vacant in the circle. As Joleen called a greeting to her, Elise headed for the chair closest to her, but before she reached it, one of the older ladies, who’d been getting a cup of coffee, took the seat. Which left one open chair. Next to Jared. She met his gaze as she approached the chair, and he flashed her the lopsided smile that had filled her thoughts throughout the week. Her stomach flip-flopped.
“Welcome back,” he whispered to her as she settled next to him.
The sandalwood scent she remembered from last week filled her nose and stirred a warmth in her chest.
Joleen called the meeting to order and opened the floor to comments and discussion. Throughout the session, Elise tried to focus on what the other members were saying, tried to work up the nerve to share something that might be valuable to the conversation, but she found herself preoccupied with every movement, every sound Jared made. A grunt of sympathy for Mrs. Bagwell. A scratch of his chin. Crossing his arms over his chest. A heavy breath … of fatigue? Boredom?
When he shifted in his chair and her pulse scrambled, she castigated herself mentally for her schoolgirl
