It wasn’t bragging. It was the truth. He’d asked. She’d answered. Simple as that.

“That’s great,” he said, sounding as if he really meant it. Not that she’d wanted him to be envious or anything, she quickly assured herself. “Me, too. Well, eighteen forty.”

She stopped, her body slamming to a halt out of pure shock—unfortunately, she’d just stepped off the corner and into the road. An approaching car beeped, quite aggressively, if you asked her, and Luke took her arm. Waved pleasantly at the driver as he tugged her across the street.

“Congratulations,” she managed. “On your score.” The score that was forty points higher than hers.

Guess karma was working after all, giving her a good kick in the rear for being so mean-spirited. For assuming he was some dumb jock.

He shrugged. “I did well on the math portion but just okay on the English. And I completely bombed the writing.” He sent her another of those carefree, aren’t-we-just-two-buddies-strolling-down-the-street grins. “Guess it’s a good thing I don’t plan on being a writer.”

Gracie had aced the English and writing portions, but her math score was just above average. See? They were opposites, with nothing in common. She shouldn’t feel bad about not wanting to walk with him.

A car went by, someone yelling Luke’s name over the heavy bass of their rap song. He waved, apparently not the least bit worried to be seen with her. He sidestepped a mailbox, and she got a whiff of his cologne. It was subtle, not overpowering like Andrew’s or a lot of the boys at school. What did they do? Bathe in the stuff?

Luke’s was...nice...though. Soft and spicy but not perfume-y.

And why she was sniffing the boy and critiquing his stupid cologne, she had no idea.

Spying Bradford House, she picked up her pace, which he easily matched thanks to his longer legs. But it didn’t matter, because in a matter of moments, she’d be going her way and he’d be going his—wherever that might be. The baseball field two blocks away or one of his friends’ houses. Didn’t his Mean Girls–clone girlfriend, Kennedy, live around here?

At the walkway leading up to the Victorian bed-and-breakfast, Gracie stopped. “Well, goodbye,” she said so abruptly, so obviously wanting to get rid of him, she wondered if she’d suffered some sort of brain damage during her sleep last night. She considered softening her brusqueness by saying she’d talk to him later, but they probably wouldn’t see each other until school started again, so why bother? “Have a good summer.”

“Actually, I’m going in there, too,” he said with a nod toward the house.

She had to tip her head back to see his face. “Why would you do that?”

He scratched the side of his jaw, and she noticed the stubble covering his cheeks and chin. “Because I work there. Here, I mean.”

The birds stopped chirping, car engines ceased to rumble, even her heart quit beating. Everything went still and silent. Except for the roaring in her head, of course. That was loud and clear. “What?”

“I work here. Today’s my first day.”

Impossible. She worked at Bradford House. Had quit at King’s Crossing and taken a job here as part-time housekeeper a few months back when Ivy took over as the chef. Now that summer was here, Gracie also babysat the B and B’s manager, Fay Lindemuth’s, two young boys three times a week and on weekends.

Gracie whirled around and almost ran up the walk to the porch, took the steps two at a time, well aware Luke was behind her. That he probably thought she was some sort of freak. Stepping inside, she hurried down the hall, through the dining room and into the small office.

Fay sat behind her desk, her almost three-year-old son, Mitchell, on the floor playing cars. As soon as Mitch saw Gracie he jumped to his feet. “Gracie! Hi, Gracie! Hi! Want to play cars?”

“Maybe later, buddy,” she said. Luckily, he was much easier going than his older brother, Elijah, who would have had a major fit at being told no.

Mitch just grinned. “Okay.” And plopped down again.

Gracie went around the desk, lowered her voice as she spoke to Fay. “Did you hire—” the sound of footsteps behind her made her turn, and she pointed at Luke “—him?”

Standing, Fay smiled her soft, serene smile. “Yes, to help with the yard work, housekeeping and to pitch in with Ivy in the kitchen.”

Then she skirted around Gracie as if she wasn’t trying to ruin Gracie’s life and make her completely miserable.

Overly dramatic? A bit. But also apt.

“Hello, Luke,” Fay said. “Welcome to Bradford House.”

He shook Fay’s hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Lindemuth. I’m excited to get started.”

Gracie shook her head. This wasn’t happening. This was not happening. She couldn’t be coworkers with Luke Sapko.

She gave a mental eye roll. Okay, okay, so she could be coworkers with him. She just didn’t want to be. Didn’t want to be around him or anyone who reminded her of Andrew.

Who reminded her of what a fool she’d been.

“What about John?” Gracie asked of the retired man who’d been taking care of the yard.

“His wife had a hip replaced, and he’s taking the rest of the summer off to help her recuperate.” Fay frowned. “Didn’t I tell you?”

Gracie bit back a scream. For one thing, yelling at her boss didn’t seem conducive to a happy, stress-free work environment—or the chance of ever getting a raise. For another, she liked Fay. How could you not? There was no one as sweet, patient or kindhearted.

It was almost unnatural.

“No,” Gracie said, grateful to have regained some semblance of composure. Even if it was cracked. “You didn’t tell me.”

“Hmm,” Fay said, still stuck on her memory lapse. “I could have sworn I did. Oh, well, you found out for yourself.” She turned to Luke. “John mowed the grass two days ago and did the weeding, and since Ivy’s off today and tomorrow— oh, Ivy is our chef. You’ll meet her Thursday—Gracie will take you with her while she cleans rooms. Show you the ropes.”

“That sounds great,” Luke said with that big old smile. Sure. Great for him. He was probably used to girls falling all over themselves, scrambling to spend even a minute with him.

For Gracie? Not so great.

Sometimes life was just completely unfair.

Guess she’d just have to deal with it.

“Do you have the housekeeping sheet?” Gracie asked. Fay kept a list of which rooms needed cleaning, updated twice a day.

Fay handed her the sheet. “Oh! I didn’t even introduce you two,” Fay said, sounding upset, as if this tiny oversight was a huge deal.

“I’ve known Gracie all my life,” Luke said. “We were in the same preschool class and everything.”

At least he hadn’t said something stupid and untrue. Like that they were friends.

Gracie walked out without waiting to see if he followed. Headed toward the supply closet off the kitchen. She wasn’t going to let his presence bother her. She may have spent way too much time thinking about his stupid best friend since last fall, but that was over now.

Stepping into the closet, she flipped on the light—and about had a heart attack when Luke touched her shoulder.

“Gracie, are you all right?” he asked quietly, his gaze direct and honest.

But then, what did she know? She’d thought Andrew was honest, too.

“I’m fine,” she said, her tone brisk. “You startled me. That’s all.”

“No, I mean...you seem pissed at me. Did I do something to upset you?”

He hadn’t, and guilt for treating him rudely filled her. Made her sick to her stomach.

God, she was acting like a walking, talking, breathing cliché—the girl with the broken heart, putting up barriers. It was ridiculous. This wasn’t even close to being the same situation she’d been in with Andrew.

Even if it had been, she was different. Wiser. More experienced.

“Everything’s fine,” she told him, hoping to make it true.