Montana Welcome
Page 24
“Might be time to...” Unbend? Relax? How could he end that sentence? “...make a plate. Are you hungry?”
She turned to face him then, her lips curved. “Why do I suspect that wasn’t how you wanted to fill in the blank?” She crossed her arms over her chest. Maybe she was relieved to move away from the topic, because she added, “Next year, we’ll make this bigger and do better publicity, increase interest and attendance. Brisa already has notes. There will be decorations, for one thing.”
Sean watched Reyna’s little sister work the crowd. There were few people Brisa knew, but that didn’t bother her a bit. She was a social butterfly in her late twenties or early thirties, dressed in what had to be expensive, silky fashion. Her hair was done in an elaborate braid, and the red, white and blue fabric of her dress draped like fancy bunting.
“Are you paying her to sing tonight?” Sean asked. He wasn’t certain where Brisa worked, but a fancy style like hers would demand a good paycheck. Or the support of the Montero bank account.
Luis Montero was an investment banker, and, if the charitable donations in the Montero name throughout southern Florida were any indication, he was very good at his job.
“She offered to help with the party as long as she got to perform one song.” Reyna shook her head. Her voice was so dry that Sean did a double take. Then her lips curved again. He was sure he’d never seen her real smile. He would remember it.
“Public adoration is my little sister’s favorite form of payment.” She met his stare again for a quick second. “I love her, even if I don’t understand it. I’ll lead from the front, for sure, but do not put me up on a stage in front of strangers.” Reyna shivered as if it was too much to consider.
He understood that aversion. Center stage was no place to be. Cracking jokes under his breath was more his style.
Sean was caught off guard at the connection that snapped into place in that heartbeat.
He cleared his throat. “How would you like your dog?” He pointed at the grill. “Last chance.”
“Burn it, chef.” Reyna straightened her shoulders and walked through the crowd, acknowledging each vet with a quick dip of her chin. In her Concord Court navy polo and shorts, she was the official welcome compared to Brisa’s gushing celebrity appearance. Reyna joined her sister in front of the complex’s well-lit flagpoles. Sean knew to the penny how much it cost to light and fly the United States flag, Florida’s flag and one flag for each branch of the military. He also knew it mattered to every man and woman lucky enough to get a place at Concord Court. And it mattered to Reyna. She would happily pay the bill. Neither she nor her father had pinched pennies where it counted. It was the only decoration required tonight.
“Thank you all for coming.” Reyna tangled her fingers together.
Most people would never guess she was uncomfortable in the spotlight. That made Sean wonder what else he might not know about Reyna Montero.
“We wanted to make sure we marked this day and made it clear to each of you how much we appreciate your service and how happy we are to have you here. My sister, Brisa Montero, is going to sing the national anthem. After that, we’ll start the movie. Don’t forget we’ve got cold watermelon and lemonade whenever you’d like refills. And if you have any suggestions on ways to improve your time here, please come by the office. I’d love to talk with you.”
Awkward silence followed Reyna as she retreated through the crowd.
Brisa watched her go with a small frown. Had she expected a bigger intro?
Reyna stopped in front of the grill but didn’t face him until Brisa started to sing. Then Reyna inhaled slowly and exhaled.
“Good job, boss.” Sean offered Reyna a plate with a blackened hot dog in a bun. She raised her eyebrow but didn’t argue.
She pointed at the plate. “This is perfect. Thank you.” She ducked her head and darted around him to brace a shoulder against one of the wrought iron posts surrounding the courtyard. “You have a seat. I’ll stay here and handle the rest.” Then she took a bite big enough to stuff her mouth.
The weird uncertainty, which was completely out of place in her normal confident pose, made it harder to walk away from her. Everyone else at Concord Court was comfortable, content. He could help Reyna.
Sean studied the backdrop that would act as a screen for the projector. Troy was behind the projector, ready to hit Play. “Everything is under control,” Sean said, pointing at the blanket he’d spread out before he started the grill. His service-dog-in-training, Bo, the hound dog, was relaxed, but both eyes were locked on Sean. He’d done so well. Bo would be leaving for his new home soon.
Then Sean would have to decide what came next for his program.
He’d watched Reyna defend his service dog training to her father the first week she’d been in charge. She hadn’t backed down. He owed her.
“If you don’t mind hanging out with hound dogs, you can share my blanket,” he offered.
“So we declare a truce for the evening? No more fighting about Charlie?”
“You have your mind made up. I’m not foolish enough to hope I have a chance of changing it.” Sean waved his plate. “And we have dinner and a movie to get to.”
Reyna had always been careful to keep distance between them. They’d never been the “hey, you got big weekend plans?” kind of coworkers.
But tonight she hesitated to refuse.
Eventually she nodded. “I’ll make sure Charlie is okay. Trust me, Wakefield.” That was an order. Her tone had no “please” in it.
Reyna took one corner of his blanket while he settled on the other, Bo forming a comfortable wall between them. The screen lit up.
“One more condition,” Sean said and watched her eyebrows rise. She didn’t like an addition after she’d agreed. He could respect that. “I’m Sean. ‘Wakefield’ reminds me of my short and not-sweet career with the Marines. Now I like Sean.”
Reyna pursed her lips. “Fine. As long as I’m Reyna. ‘Boss’ gives me the urge to fight.” She arched one eyebrow as if to remind him that they’d already tried arguing once.
Sean cleared his throat. It might have a whiff of insubordination now and then to drawl “boss” at his actual boss. “Agreed.”
“Good. Sean.” Reyna picked up her plate.
“Why a movie?” Sean asked as he bent closer to Reyna. “No fireworks?” He’d thought A League of Their Own was an unusual choice, but he wouldn’t be the only one who would appreciate some easy, fun entertainment. History, but no bullets or bombs.
Sean still wanted to understand her reasoning. It would be a hint to who Reyna was, the Reyna that didn’t make it to the surface. Reyna. Not boss.
Reyna turned. In the same moment, they realized how close they were and shifted farther apart.
“So many vets have trouble with the booms and pops, and there are lots of places with fireworks already if someone wants to find them. But baseball? It’s one of the top three.” She held out her hand and ticked items off on her fingers. “Mom. Baseball. And apple pie.” She rubbed one of Bo’s ears between her fingers. “Besides, I’m a big fan of girl power, you know.”
Bo turned molten brown eyes Sean’s direction. He was working, so he shouldn’t be distracted by anyone.
“Okay, Bo,” Sean said, giving the dog permission to relax. Bo immediately inched forward and braced his chin on Reyna’s knee. Sean waited for Reyna to protest, but the precisely straight line of her back bent a fraction as the movie started.
Reyna had flown jets.
She was a decorated military officer.
That much he knew from web searches and her father’s boasting.
They’d butted heads exactly once. Over Charlie. And he was having trouble letting that go.
But he did trust her to do the right thing.
For one night, he wanted to forget that she was the hero he’d ne
ver be and that she was about to evict a friend because of her commitment to the rules.
He wanted to pretend he was just a guy sharing a blanket with a pretty woman, a perfect dog and a movie under the starry night sky. It wouldn’t happen often.
He should enjoy every second.
Copyright © 2020 by Cheryl Harper
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ISBN-13: 9781488068195
Montana Welcome
Copyright © 2020 by Melinda Wooten
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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