Page 23 of Under the Lights
The television was on in the living room, but there was no sign of people, which was surprising. It was definitely the time of night when her dad was in his recliner, pretending to watch TV while he napped, and her mother would be in her chair, pretending to knit while she really just watched TV and held the needles.
When she heard a noise coming from the kitchen, she went that direction and found Chase half in the pantry closet, rummaging around. “She keeps the good stuff in the cabinet above the fridge, behind the light bulbs.”
He whirled around and she realized he hadn’t heard her come in. She must still be subconsciously avoiding the squeaky spots in the old wood floors.
“Why do they do that?” he asked. “I think all moms hide their stashes behind the light bulbs in the highest cabinet. It’s not a very good secret hiding place.”
“Women should hide stuff with the extra toilet paper, becausethat’sa secret location. Did my parents go to bed already?”
“No, they went to... somebody’s house to see pictures of their new grandkid and eat dessert or something.”
“With that kind of detail, you should do my police reports for me.”
He grinned sheepishly. “Honestly, I mentally checked out at the wordsslide showandnew grandbaby.”
She couldn’t say she blamed him. “Did they say when they’d be back?”
“No, but they’ve been gone awhile and they’re not exactly night owls.”
“Okay.” Awkwardness settled between them. By the time her parents got home, they’d probably be ready to go to bed, so waiting around didn’t make a lot of sense. But turning around and walking out on Chase because they weren’t home seemed rude.
He held up a bag. “Want some peanuts?”
“All the food my mom has in there and you bring out peanuts?”
“I like peanuts.”
It was such a random conversation, she didn’t know what to say. “Okay. So do I, but no. I’m all set.”
He tossed the bag on the table and sat down. “So what brings you over here so late? Late being relative, of course, but you’re obviously on duty.”
“Just looking for a pep talk, I guess.” She leaned against the counter and crossed one ankle over the other. “You know Coach is good at those.”
“Tough night?”
She shrugged one shoulder, but he waited her out. And he looked sincerely interested—almost concerned—so she found herself telling him about her visit to the bridge. No names, of course, but enough to give him a sense of the discouragement and frustration growing in Stewart Mills.
He got up halfway through and got them each a soda from the fridge, handing her one. She didn’t normally drink caffeine except when she first woke up, because she sometimes had to sleep weird hours, but her mouth was dry and she could use the pick-me-up.
“Listening is probably all you can do,” he said, leaning his hip against the counter so he was facing her. “It makes a difference, you know. You could have hassled him or ordered him to go home, but you cared enough to let him talk it out. Even if he doesn’t consciously know it, it really matters.”
“If we can’t save the team, it’s going to get worse,” she said, setting her half-full can down. The caffeine was okay, but the sugar was too much. “Ugh. I’m starting to sound like a broken record.”
“No, you sound like a woman who cares a lot about her town and the people living in it, especially the kids.”
When he moved closer and put his hand on her shoulder, she stiffened under his touch. Alarm bells went off in her head—she should put some distance between them immediately—but it was a gesture of comfort, and comfort was what she’d come looking for.
Then his hand slid up to cup the back of her neck, while the fingers of his other hand laced through hers, and she knew she was in trouble. Looking into his eyes, there was no doubt he intended to kiss her. But he held back, not tugging at her neck at all while he waited.
To hell with it,she thought, closing the small distance between them and tilting her face up. His mouth closed over hers as she slid her free hand up his back, and the hand on the back of her neck tightened.
When his tongue flicked over her bottom lip, she shivered. He tasted like sugary soda, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was his mouth and his tongue dancing over hers and his hand on her neck.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first night I got here,” he said against her lips, his voice low and husky.
Her fingernails bit into his back, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted him to keep kissing her until her knees were weak and she couldn’t breathe.
“You are so sweet,” he murmured, and then he nipped at her lower lip. “I’d like to take you up against the wall right now.”
