I dropped a candle, set his rug on fire, and lost my pants—all in under thirty seconds.
He dives to save the flame, while I scramble to grab my waistband and my dignity.
When it’s over, I can’t meet his eyes. My cheeks are burning hotter than that rug.
He clears his throat. “We’ll pretend that never happened.”
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt.
“Grace.” His voice is quiet, steady.
I'm too busy arguing to hear what he has to say.
"Grace," he says again.
Then his finger touches my lips.
“For the record,” he says, “I wasn’t staring. I mean, I was—but only because I panicked. It was respectful staring. Panic-staring. The kind with morals.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. “Panic-staring with morals?”
“Yeah,” he says. “But even if you’d been wearing a potato sack, I still would’ve looked. Because it’s you.”
Keep reading Merry Mended Hearts by bestselling author Catelyn Meadows!
