Page 6 of Just Like Home

But someone had undoubtedly spotted her in town over the last two days. He sure had, draping herself all over Maxwell Juniper, pretending she didn’t see Cole as they walked across the street in the crosswalk right in front of his truck.

It took everything he had not to take his foot off the brake.

Okay, that wasn’t true, but the thought had occurred to him, which should probably concern him a little more than it did.

“Look at you, Coach,” Betsy said from behind the counter. “Saw you out there early, whipping those boys into shape.”

“We’ve got a long way to go,” Cole said.

“You’ll get there,” Betsy said, her vote of confidence oddly reassuring. “You always do.”

He didn’t bother to tell her all the reasons he wouldn’t get this particular team “there.” He didn’t want to sound like he was making excuses, though he did hope this town understood that some years, you simply didn’t have the juice to go all the way, no matter how much potential the boys had.

The community was still riding high after last fall’s state title.Go Hawkssigns peppered storefront windows throughout town, even now, months after they’d won the championship. He didn’t want to let anyone down, but it would take a miracle for this particular team to even have a winning season.

“I’ve got your order,” Betsy said. “Be right back.”

He leaned against the counter, doing his best not to make eye contact with anyone else in the restaurant, when the front door opened and Gemma walked in. She hadn’t spotted him yet, so he took a second to look at her, wishing she’d lost her looks or suddenly turned unappealing to him.

Shouldn’t it work that way?

Sadly, it didn’t. His ex was every bit as beautiful as she ever had been.

Maybe he’d been wrong about chatter quieting. He swore the room had gone silent. Or was he imagining that?

Gemma found a booth against the far wall and led Max over to it, and before she looked up, Cole turned his back to her, facing the register where Betsy would—God willing—soon return with his order.

It had been too much to expect Gemma to find another place to spend her summer, and apparently too much to give up their favorite breakfast spot. Sensitivity had never been her strong suit. He could only pray that she drew the line at talking to him in public.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Betsy returned. “Sorry,” she said. “I threw a few extras in there for you.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” He kept his voice low, as if it might give him away, even from across the room.

“I know,” she said. “But I wanted to. I know it’s going to get super crowded in here the next few months, and I’m trying to entice my regulars to brave the tourist crowds and keep coming in. The locals are always much nicer than the tourists.” She winked at him and pushed the brown paper bag across the counter. “I’m sure you agree.”

Gemma had been a tourist once upon a time, a summer resident only until she married Cole. Was that what Betsy was getting at? If so, yeah, he definitely agreed. “Thanks,” he said. He handed over his cash, told her to keep the change, then turned for his quick getaway.

He beelined for the front door, head down and pretending not to notice Gemma and dumb Max sitting in that booth against the wall. He focused instead on the scene outside the front of the diner, where a shiny black Volkswagen Jetta attempted to park in the spot directly in front of Cole’s truck. After a failed attempt to maneuver the car into the parking place, the driver put it into drive and started to pull back out into the street, but an oncoming car honked and the Jetta halted abruptly, then lurched backward.

The scene turned to slow motion as the back end of the car swiped across the front headlight of Cole’s vintage Chevy and finally came to a stop.

At the sound of the shattered headlight and crunching metal, a collective gasp sounded from the diner patrons near the windows. All eyes were on him.

He darted out onto the sidewalk and looked at the two vehicles, still pressed together, metal entwined with metal.

Cole tried not to think about all the hours he’d spent restoring that truck. It had been months of constant tinkering, but finally, he had something he was proud to drive around. It wouldn’t be easy to replace that headlight, and he couldn’t be sure, but it looked like there would be some body work involved too.

He knew it was probably a teenager or a little old lady behind the wheel of that car, and he also knew a small crowd had likely gathered behind him, inside the diner, including—unfortunately—Gemma and dumb Max.

Stay cool, Turner.

The Jetta started moving again, broken glass crunching underneath the tires. Once it was clear, he tried to relax a little, but the driver didn’t stop the car. Instead, the slow motion started up again and he watched in horror as the Jetta smashed into the truck again, this time wedging the back end even deeper into the front of the old Chevy.

Cole rushed out to the curb.

“Stop!” He shouted at the driver and pounded on the trunk of the car. The brake lights flickered as the car stopped moving.

“Are you blind?” He shouted again.

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