CHAPTER EIGHT
After dinner, Caleb headed out onto his grandmother’s patio. Becca Taylor intrigued him. He didn’t need a Ph.D. to realize she hadn’t wanted to spend one more minute in his company.
Her not saying a word on the drive to the Park & Ride lot had been his first clue. The way she’d sat as far away from him during dinner as possible had been his second. The way she’d scarfed down her pizza and salad as if a bomb was about to explode if she didn’t eat fast enough and then excused herself without dessert had been his third and fourth clues.
No other woman had been so blatant in their dislike of him. He was torn between being annoyed and intrigued.
A door opened behind him.
“I thought you were going home,” Grams said.
Him, too. But something had stopped him from leaving. Someon
