One More Night. Jennifer McKenzie

had known them for only a couple of minutes and already she could see how in love they were. It would be hard to recover from losing a love like that. Her heart skipped a beat. Of course, she had to find a man she liked enough to go on a second date with—okay, fine, a first date—before she jumped ahead to love and marriage and a lifetime of togetherness. “That must have been hard.”

      “It was. For all of us.”

      Grace tilted her head to look at him. His mouth was close to hers and she knew she should step back, but she was afraid she’d bump the table. Yeah, right. The table. That was what was holding her in place. “He looks good.” But she didn’t turn her head toward Gus. She was caught in Owen’s gaze.

      “He does.” Owen reached out to brush a strand of hair off her neck. Grace felt the sharp buzz of attraction race through her. “He’s doing well.”

      “I’m glad to hear it.” And although she hadn’t known Gus Ford even an hour ago as anything more than the founder of the family company and father to Owen and Donovan, she was glad. Grace didn’t always understand her own parents and she knew they didn’t understand her, but despite their sometimes contentious relationship, she loved them and would be devastated if they fell ill.

      “Thanks.” Owen brushed the side of her neck again, though Grace was pretty sure that the strand of hair wasn’t there anymore. She knew she should mind, should take that step back, table or not, and remind both Owen and herself that their relationship was strictly business. She didn’t move.

      “And how are you handling it?” Her voice was soft.

      “Fine. Most of the time.” He shrugged and moved closer. She could feel his body heat radiating through her thick silk dress, could imagine the hard bunch of his muscles beneath that stylish summer suit. “Maybe you want to hug me? Make it all better?”

      And just like that the moment dissolved and washed away on the realization that Owen wasn’t serious. Not about anything. Grace took that step away and didn’t bump the table. “Nice try.”

      Owen grinned. If he weren’t so charming, he’d be obnoxious. Actually, she bet he could be obnoxious despite that overabundance of charm. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

      She could, but she didn’t. Instead, she pretended that one of her employees was calling her through her earpiece and excused herself from the little family grouping, but she risked a glance over her shoulder as she strode away and saw Owen watching her go, a sleepy appreciation in his eyes.

      Grace didn’t want to find him appealing. Not with his insouciant manner, his casual attitude toward most things and his bright green sneakers. But she did. She made herself keep walking as a quiet ache unfurled in her chest.