Page 4 of Run the Play
“I’m sure the newlyweds have long since retired.”
“Everyone was still at the reception when I snuck out.”
“Not a fan of weddings?”
She shrugs. “Sure, Corie and Knox seem happy.”
“They are.” I nod. There’s no denying that those two bring out the best in one another. “Ever been married?” I ask.
She stops walking and stares at me with her mouth hanging open. “No. Have you?”
“Nope.” I grin. “Ever engaged?” I ask as we start to walk again.
She exhales a heavy sigh, and that tells me there’s a story there. “I was engaged once.”
I’m walking on her left side, so I’m able to lift her left hand, spying her empty ring finger. “Not anymore?”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re nosy?” she asks. There’s a hint of humor lacing her tone.
“Yep,” I say, popping thep. “In fact, Harry and I know just about everything there is to know about the Rampage, and those who work within the walls of the stadium.”
“Harry? The maintenance man, Harry? That sweet old man who greets me every morning?”
I can’t help but chuckle at her response. “That would be the one. Harry and I are thick as thieves.”
“Is that another way to say nosy gossipers?” she asks, her lips twitching, fighting off her smile.
“I call it being caring. Sure, we know who’s flirting with who, and who’s on the list for trade, but we also know that Sara in accounting is a new grandmother, and Tasha, who handles the vendors, just got a clean bill of health from her breast cancer diagnosis early last year. We made sure they both got gifts from the Rampage.”
“Okay, fine,” she concedes. “Maybe your nosy tendencies do some good.”
“Apparently, our skills are not that good. Neither one of us had any idea Knox and Corie were secretly dating. I mean, I knew Knox had a girlfriend he was hiding, and that Corie was smiling more, but I didn’t see their relationship coming until it slapped me in the face.”
“Corie said you handled it well.”
I shrug. “Yeah, I mean, at first, I was floored, but with each word Knox spoke, I could hear it in his voice. Corie wasn’t just another woman to him. She wasthewoman. By the time he finished his ‘I’m in love with her’ speech, my anger had seepedaway, and all that was left was sadness. I wish they’d come to me and explained.”
“Yeah, but in the beginning, they had no way of knowing this is where they would end up.” She motions toward the white sandy beach we’re walking on. “Sometimes, things change, most of the time for the better, but sometimes, for the worse. I can see why they wanted to make sure they knew what this charged thing between them was before making any bold steps. It was smart.”
“Something tells me, there was a bold step in your past that guides your observation.”
“You could say that.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I’m dying to know more about this woman. She’s gorgeous, which admittedly is the reason I flirted with her that first time, but she’s not like most women I know. She doesn’t want my attention, or she’s good at hiding it if she does. She’s also become important to my sister, which means she’s important to me by default. That’s what we do as a family. We stick together and appreciate those in our lives because none of us knows if we have tomorrow.
“You don’t want to spend your night in paradise listening to my sob story.” She keeps her eyes locked on the expansive beach before us, while I keep mine on her.
My gut twists. There’s something about this beautiful girl feeling pain, having a sob story that’s not sitting right with me. Reaching out, I take her hand in mine and pull her to a stop. “I do. If you want to tell me, I’ll happily listen. Not because I want to gossip with Harry, but because something tells me you need a strong shoulder, and I’m offering you mine.”
Even with the sun setting and the low lighting, I see the tears shimmer in her eyes. “Thank you,” she says, clearing her throat, “but I think we should head back.” She pulls her hand frommine, and I loosen my hold and watch as she turns and heads back toward the resort.
I watch her for a few seconds, wondering what happened in her past to bring on those tears in her beautiful blue eyes. I have to jog a little to catch up with her. When I reach her, I sling an arm around her shoulders and pretend as if the heaviness of the moment didn’t happen. “So, how are your line dancing skills?”
“What?” She turns to look at me, trying not to laugh. Her brow is furrowed as if she can’t keep up with the shift in conversation.
“Line dancing? How are you?”
“Um, okay, I guess. Why?”
