Page 6 of Sweet Courage

“Oh my.” Her hands still in the dough, Alice’s eyes flared with concern before narrowing as she listened to what else Kat had to say.

“The idiot threw his car into reverse and nearly ran me over. In the process of trying not to get crushed, the pie went airborne.”

“Good heavens.” A hand flew to Jess’s chest. “Since you’re standing here on two feet, I’m going to say he missed you.”

“His car did, but not the pie. That’s why I’m late. I had to go home and change.”

“Oh, you have had a day.” Alice wiped her hands on a nearby dish towel and cast a quick glance in his direction so brief that he may have been the only one to notice. “Are you sure you’re up to the lesson?”

“Of course.” She waved off the matriarch’s concern, and took another step closer to the table.

Hanson knew it was time for a tactical retreat—if only he had one. Setting his water glass down on the wooden table, he pushed his chair back and stood to his full height.

The movement caught Kat’s peripheral vision. At the sound of his chair scraping against the tiled floor, she turned her head in his direction. The easy smile instantly vanished. Her lips parted slightly, her breath caught visibly in her throat. The bright blue of her eyes hardened into twin chips of solid ice as she took in his khakis, his loafers, and his presence inside the Sweet family sanctuary.

Alice, not entirely oblivious to the sudden, suffocating drop in the room’s temperature, turned toward the table with a tight smile. “Oh, Kat, where are my manners? Speaking of cars and errands, you haven’t properly met our houseguest. He just got back from town himself.”

Hanson didn’t look away. He kept his hands relaxed at his sides, refusing to slouch or hide, and absorbed the full, unadulterated weight of her glare.

“Kat,” as though they were specimens under a microscope, Alice watched the two carefully as she spoke, “this is Hanson Taylor. Hanson, this is Katherine Sutton, Mason’s new tutor.”

The blonde beauty didn’t blink. Slowly, she arranged her features into a mask of pure, polite Southern frost. “Hanson.”

He gave a slow, deliberate nod, holding her gaze with silent acknowledgement of his own guilt. “Miss Sutton. It’s a pleasure to officially make your acquaintance.”

Gripping the leather satchel hanging from her shoulder, Kat stood rooted to the wooden floor and wondered if it was at all possible to strangle a man with nothing but a look. Across the room, the same idiot who’d nearly flattened her in the café parking lot stood beside the table looking like sin wrapped in khakis and loafers. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair in need of a trim. Something hard to notice when a motor vehicle is gunning for you, but she noticed them now, along with eyes a shade too honest for a man who drove like a menace to society. If she hadn’t lived through the parking lot escapade herself, she might have thought she’d imagined the whole thing.

Alice’s gaze bounced from one to the other, her eyes narrowed, and she heaved a deep sigh as the silence stretched. She’d succeeded in connecting the dots.

Too polite to let the older woman dangle, Kat drew in a breath she did not feel and set her shoulders. “It seems we’ve already met.”

Beside the table, the man’s jaw tightened. “In town.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Folding her arms over her chest, Kat shifted the weight of the satchel. “Another way might be that you tried to run me down.”

Jess’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I did no such thing.” A hand scrubbed over the back of his neck. “I mean—I did not intentionally back into your car.”

Her gaze darting back and forth from Kat to the menace, Alice remained perfectly still, not a hint of what she was thinking.

“I’m sorry.” Pushing the chair fully under the table, Hanson took one step forward, then seemed to think better of it and stopped. “For the car. For the pie. For your shirt.” His gaze dipped briefly to the front of her blouse and instantly bounced away. Color rose along the collar of his neck. “For all of it.”

A beat passed. Jess stood frozen, jaw slightly ajar, confusion in her gaze.

Alice blinked hard. “So you were the man in the parking lot?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Misery settled over every word. “Though I’d rather not be.”

Jess clutched the cookie tin to her middle. “Well, at least no one was hurt.”

“Only my pride.” Letting out a breath, Kat gave a small shake of her head. “And Harriet’s coconut cream pie.”

“I can replace it,” Hanson said quickly. “The pie. The shirt. Any damage to the car. Anything.”

The earnestness in his voice caught her off guard. No bluster. No excuses. No trying to laugh it away. Just a man standing there taking his lumps. Too bad he’d earned them.

Another second and, to his credit, he dipped his head. “Again, Miss Sutton, I am sorry.”