Page 9 of Under the Lights
“I’ll come and get you,” Coach said. “Be ready at six.”
“Yes, sir.”
When Coach returned to his spot beside her, Kelly turned her attention back to the paper. “Tomorrow evening we’ll finish painting the signs. The art classes have made some great banners for the street fair next weekend. And Jen’s idea to have a contest for the best Eagles Fest display was brilliant. You’ve probably seen the homemade signs popping up all over town. We’ll announce the winner before the alumni game, I think, though we’re taking photos as they go up in case some of them aren’t weatherproof.”
She went down the items on her agenda—the status of different vendors for the street fair, details on the spaghetti dinner in the works, the bake sale, the tollbooths, the parade—talking for what seemed like forever. And every time she looked up, she looked right into Chase Sanders’s eyes.
When the meeting finally ended, Kelly wished she could be the first out the door, but she had to stay. Jen, who had the key, would be last out, and Kelly wouldn’t leave her to lock up alone.
Maybe she’d get lucky and Chase wouldn’t linger. This weird attraction of hers annoyed the hell out of her. She didn’t trust guys with charming smiles and cheesy lines. Men who easily had their way with the ladies tended to find that a hard habit to break, in her experience. Derek certainly hadn’t been able to break it, even with a wedding band inscribed with Kelly’s name on his finger.
“Your mother’s holding dinner for me and Chase.” Coach draped his arm around her shoulder. “You gonna come over?”
As tempting as her mom’s cooking was, she was exhausted and, truth be told, she wanted to soak in the tub, pop in a DVD and not think about the Stewart Mills Eagles for at least ten hours. Twelve if she was lucky. “Not tonight, but dibs on any leftovers.”
After Coach headed for the door, she turned toward the coffee urn to start cleaning up, but almost ran smack into Chase.
“Officer McDonnell,” he said in a low voice not meant to be overheard.
“I think you can call me Kelly.”
“I think I like calling you Officer McDonnell.” The smile that went with the words was so naughty it should have its own police radio code. “So I’m not going to see you at dinner tonight?”
The last thing she needed right now was more of her body parts brushing against his body parts under the table. Herparents’table, no less. “Nope, but I’ll see you Saturday morning if not tomorrow. Thanks for volunteering, by the way.”
She stepped around him before he could say anything else, even though she knew she was being rude. He’d put himself out coming back to Stewart Mills to help her dad, so she should be schmoozing him or something. Unfortunately, it wasn’t schmoozing she felt like doing to him, and that was a problem.
Wearing a badge in the town you grew up in, especially as Coach’s daughter, meant fighting every day to be respected as an officer of the law. Giving a speeding ticket to a woman who gave you half her sandwich in first grade wasn’t easy, but she did it, and Stewart Mills eventually came to respect her and the badge she wore. Sleeping with the prodigal golden boy was not only a bad idea personally, it could be ugly professionally, too. Whispers and wink-wink nudge-nudges while on the job, she could do without.
And that meant doing without lusting after her parents’ houseguest. Once Eagles Fest was over, she’d wave good-bye and he’d go back to being nothing but a memory.
03
Chase walked down the stairs the following morning to find the house empty and a note from Mrs. McDonnell propped next to the coffeemaker. Smart woman. He wouldn’t miss it there, for sure.
We’re off to work this morning, but we’ll probably be home by early afternoon. Make yourself at home, and there are fresh blueberry muffins in the basket with the blue towel over it. Helen.
Three cups of coffee, two muffins and a few minutes washing dishes later, Chase stood in the middle of the living room and wondered what he was supposed to do all day. Kelly had made it pretty clear nothing was needed from him until tomorrow morning, but he wasn’t used to sitting around watching television while the sun was shining.
He would have given Coach a hand if he’d gotten up early enough. Unlike many high school coaches, Coach wasn’t a school staffer who happened to know enough about a sport to coach it. He’d owned his own plumbing business for as long as Chase could remember, and Mrs. McDonnell worked in his office. When the community had begun making noise about starting a football team, they’d asked Walt McDonnell to coach because he’d played in college back in the day, and nobody else had that kind of practical experience.
Chase was a builder, not a plumber, but he could lug tools and hand over wrenches as well as any guy. He’d missed the boat, though, so he was going to have to amuse himself until the afternoon, at least.
He decided to cruise around and reacquaint himself with the town, keeping an eye out for unexpected stop signs. Besides the For Sale signs and the depressing bank auction signs, Chase saw a lot of empty storefronts along Main Street, and it seemed like every building in town needed a fresh coat of paint.
He’d turned off Main Street, planning to loop around to the public parking area and go for a walk, when he hit the brakes so hard the tires chirped, and stared at the sign. Decker’s Wreckers. It couldn’t be. But who else would slap that name on a business?
He turned in to the lot, trying to remember what name used to be on the old brick garage, but it eluded him. Parking between two tow trucks that weren’t in much better shape than the garage, he got out and went into the office. Nobody came to greet him, so he poked his head into the garage area. Two legs like tree trunks stuck out from under a pickup.
“Hey,” Chase said.
The creeper wheels squealed in protest as the rest of the man emerged, and Chase grinned. Paul “Deck” Decker had been a big guy in high school, but years, a lot of good eating and probably more than his fair share of beer had added quite a bit of girth. If he wanted to slide under a car, the car would have to be on a lift.
“Hey, Deck.”
Deck pushed himself to his feet and wiped his hand on his pants before extending it. “Sanders. No shit. Heard you were coming back.”
“Rumor is we’re going to wipe up the field with some young rookies. Couldn’t let you have all the fun.”
