“Can I come over later?”
“Why?”
His lips curved up. “’Cause I want to talk to you. You going to be home later?”
She wasn’t sure what her mom would say. “You can call me if you want.”
“All right.”
She nodded as she reached her hands out. “I’ve got to go now.”
“I’ll text you later,” he said as he gently placed her books back in her arms. “And I’m going to ask if I can come over.”
She nodded as she finally climbed up the steps of the bus.
“I didn’t know if you were going to get on or not,” Eddie, their seventy-year-old bus driver said to her good-naturedly.
“Me, neither,” she admitted as she took her usual seat right behind him.
When Eddie closed the doors and pulled forward, she leaned back and tried not to think about Sam Holland. How was it possible to like someone so much but not want to see him again?
She sure wished she could figure it out.
***
“Hey, Sam,” Anthony called out. “You coming to the lake with us?”
Turning, Sam did his best to act like he wished he could. Anthony was cool enough. He was friends with everyone and had an easy, happy personality that was contagious. He was on the basketball team, too. He wasn’t one of the best players, but he was good enough to have played on varsity for three years. He also just happened to be one of the few guys in Sam’s AP classes that wasn’t a complete nerd.
But he had other things on his mind, mainly fixing things with his brother and convincing Kayla to let him come over to her house. “Hey. Sorry, I gotta go home.”
“How come?”
“I had in-school today. My brother’s pissed.”
Understanding lit Anthony’s eyes. “Oh. Yeah, I guess he would be. My dad would have grounded me for a month. But it’s good you only got a one-day suspension, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Did it suck?”
“Yeah. But not too bad.” Actually, it had been a whole lot better than he’d been expecting. It had also given him a break from all the questions he would have gotten if he’d been in his classes.
“At least it’s over.”
Sam nodded as he headed toward his truck. It was black, old, had chrome bumpers, and looked completely out of place in the high school parking lot filled with shiny foreign sedans and tricked-out SUVs. But that was why he liked it, he supposed. It reminded him of home. Of smaller houses, friends that he’d known from practically birth, and everything that was easy and comfortable.
It had been everything he’d ever known, until he’d come to Ohio.
Anthony was still by his side. “Garrett got a two-day out-of-school suspension. I heard his parents are pissed you didn’t get the same punishment.”
“He deserved it.” As far as Sam was concerned, Garrett deserved to get the crap beat out of him, but he knew better than saying that out loud.
Anthony eyed him carefully. “What’s going on with you and Kayla?”
“Nothing.”
“Sure? I saw you walking her out.” He grinned. “And I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure you were carrying her books.”
Anthony was commenting on that? Was he in the middle of some chick flick? “Her books weighed like a hundred pounds. She needed some help.”
He laughed. “Oh. Yeah. I’m sure that’s why you were walking with her.”
“Why do you care?”
Holding up his hands like he was fending off an attack, he laughed again. “Don’t get mad at me. I think she’s great.”
Sam stared at Anthony hard, wondering if the guy meant something by his words that wasn’t innocent at all. Like that he, too, had taken a good look at her without a shirt on.
But Anthony’s expression was completely innocent. Or maybe he just didn’t want to get hit. Knowing it wasn’t going to help him or Kayla if he got in another fight, Sam shrugged. “I better get going before my brother starts blowing up my phone. See you around.”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” Anthony slapped him on the back and trotted off.
Getting in his truck, he smiled when it roared to life, earning a couple of startled glances from some girls two rows over.
After giving them a little salute, he pulled out, absently looking at the school’s well-sodded and well-lit ballfield. Then at the auditorium and gymnasium in the distance. Next to the school was a state-of-the art natatorium.
His school has its own swimming pool. Who would have thought?
It also had its own swimming and dive team. He’d met a couple of the swimmers, and they lifeguarded at the pool and gave lessons in the spring to the little kids in town.
As he drove on, he passed a couple of new Volkswagens and Hondas and even a couple of sweet-looking trucks. From what he’d heard, they were all kids’ sixteenth birthday presents. New cars and trucks for turning sixteen.
When he’d first gotten to Bridgeport, he’d stared at the cars everyone was driving. It had seemed like every other person was driving an Escalade or a Mercedes or a BMW. Not only was he not used to being around so many expensive cars, but no one in Spartan bought any vehicle that wasn’t proudly made in America.
Yet again, he wondered what Dad would think about it all. He figured Dad would either think he was joshing him or go on some tirade about how spoiled everyone was. Every time Sam said something about Dad to Kurt, Kurt shut him down. Sam didn’t know if he was still angry at Dad for everything or for something that he was keeping to himself.
Just as he was about to pull into his driveway, his cell phone chirped. When he saw who was calling, he clicked on and set the truck in park.
“Coleman. Hey.”
Sam’s best friend Cole—who pretty much everyone called Coleman—laughed. “So, you do remember us poor guys stuck back in Spartan. I was beginning to wonder.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“’Cause when I called you last night you didn’t pick up.”
That was because he’d been on the phone with Kayla. “I picked up now. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I was just talking with everybody and we agreed things aren’t the same without you here. It’s boring as hell.”
Sam grinned. “That’s your fault. You’ve got to pick up the slack and stir up some excitement.”
“I would if I could. But I got no time for that.”
As if his tight control finally loosened, he exhaled. When he spoke again, his accent matched his buddy’s. “Oh yeah? What’s going on?”
“We’re all tired and sore. First game is on Friday, you know.”
“You starting?”
“’Course. So are Anton and Burl.”
Opening up his door, Sam let one of his legs swing out and he leaned back in his seat, letting the familiar trash talk and complaining wash over him like a warm towel after a cold shower in the locker room. It was because of Coleman that he’d been able to leave without a lot of hard feelings. Instead of feeling resented because he was moving someplace better in order to get into college, pretty much everyone was counting on him to do it.
It was a pretty amazing thing when a ton of people had your back.
After a good five minutes, Cole finally took a breath. “So, that’s what’s been going on around here. What about you? What have you been doing?”
“Nothing. Going to school.”
“That’s it?”
“I just got here. You know how it is when you’re the new kid. I’m trying to keep my head down and get through it.”
“You making friends?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. It ain’t like there’s some welcome wagon.”
“Oh. I guess not.” After a pause, he said, “What about the girls? Any of them pretty?”
Thinking of K
ayla, Sam smiled. “Oh, yeah.”
Coleman’s voice warmed. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Well, who is she? What’s she like?”
No way was he going to say anything about Kay. “I’m not seeing anyone serious. Not yet, anyway.” Sure that Coleman wouldn’t let that go, he switched topics fast. “Now tell me about practice. Burl puke yet?”
“Only every day.” And sure enough, that was all it took. Coleman was off and running again, talking about football practice, their buddy who always ate too much before practice, and Coleman’s longtime girl, Annabeth.
“You give her your ring yet?”
“Oh, yeah,” Cole said, his voice warm. “Anna had to wrap it with a mess of tape, but it looks good on her. Real good.”
Sam felt his body relax. He loved hearing about everyone, and felt that familiar ache that never seemed to go away whenever he thought about West Virginia. Back there, he knew how to act, knew what to expect, and felt good.
It wasn’t as fancy, but it was home.
As far as he was concerned, it was also a whole lot better than where he was now.
Getting out of his truck, he leaned against the side of it. “Well, don’t hold back. Fill me in on everybody else.”
“Want to hear about how Anton made an ass of himself at last week’s field party?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Then settle in and hold on tight. This is a good one.”
As Coleman started talking, Sam leaned his head back and grinned in a way he hadn’t since last time they’d talked. It felt good. It felt perfect.
Almost like he was home again. Almost … but not quite.
CHAPTER 5
FROM LES LARKE’S
TIPS FOR BEGINNING POKER PLAYERS:
Be aggressive when in play … but selectively aggressive. Good players learn when to jump forward and when to hang back and let things happen.
Emily Springer was double-checking her grocery list on her smart phone in the middle of Kroger when she ran smack into Kurt Holland’s impressive chest. “Umph!” she kind of yelped, just as she pressed her hands on that chest.
It was solid. It was warm. And groping her student’s brother next to an arrangement of honeycrisp apples was a mistake. “Sorry!” she blurted as she shot her hands in the air.
Which made her drop her phone.
It clattered to the floor just as Kurt placed two strong hands on her waist to steady her. “Hey. You okay?”
Actually, no. No, she was not. She was mortified.
“I’m fine. I’d be better if I could learn to watch where I’m going.” When he chuckled, she raised her chin. And found herself looking into the best set of blue eyes she’d ever examined at close range. Luckily, they were filled with amusement and not annoyance. “Sorry I ran into you. Are you okay?”
Kurt bent down and picked up her phone. “It takes a bit more than a bump in the grocery store to do me much harm.”
She laughed. She wasn’t sure if that was a line he’d used before or if it was the honest truth as far as he saw it. “I really am sorry. I was double-checking my grocery list.” She tapped the phone’s surface a couple of times and showed him the list.
“I’m not much into lists, but I guess they would come in handy.” It was kind of obvious that he thought scribbling on a scrap of paper would work just as well.
“It’s a side effect of working with teenagers. You get used to adopting all kinds of new apps because they do.”
“You’re making me even gladder that I carry around plants for a living.”
Oh, that drawl! Smiling at him, she murmured, “Trust me, there are some days I wish I did the same thing.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“Those plants don’t talk back to you, do they?”
He caught onto her comment and grinned. “Only a couple,” he replied as he shifted his weight to his other foot. “Sometimes the Boston ferns get mouthy, but I shut ’em down fast.”
She giggled, and finally took the time to look him over from head to toe. He looked different than he had back in that conference room. Tonight he was dressed in a button-down, dark jeans, and scuffed, tan cowboy boots. He looked like something out of a George Strait video. “You look nice,” she blurted.
He looked down at himself as if he’d forgotten what he was wearing. “Do I? Thanks. As you can see, I’m not always covered in mud.”
No, he was not. Actually, he looked really handsome. And that was saying something because he’d looked awfully good coming from a job site. Realizing that she was checking him out … and that he was watching her do that checking, she took a step back. “Well, I had better let you go. I’m sure you’ve got things to do.”
He gestured to his cart. “Not so much. Tonight’s highlight involves grabbing a frozen pizza for me and about a ton of junk food for Sam. You aren’t interrupting anything but a night in front of the TV.”
She would have thought that he would have had a busy social calendar. Or at least was following Sam’s. “You’re not going to the game?” Pretty much everyone in town went to the Friday-night games. This was the first game all season she was missing.
He shook his head. “Nah. I went to Sam’s games when I could back in Spartan, but he’s not playing here.”
“I bet that’s hard on him.”
Instead of offering some kind of breezy comment, he took the time to consider her words. “I thought it was going to be a whole lot harder on him than he acts … but so far he seems to be taking it in stride. ’Course I think it might have something to do with Kayla.”
“I saw him talking with her the other day. They seemed happy.” Actually, Kayla had been glowing and Sam had looked like he was going to hurt anyone who looked cross-eyed at her.
Kurt shook his head. “I tried to tell him to back off a bit and concentrate on school.”
She inwardly winced. “Let me guess, that didn’t go over real well.”
“Not even a little bit.” Lines around his eyes crinkled. “I’m learning that being his guardian instead of just his big brother takes some getting used to. I’m making mistakes right and left.”
“Something tells me that you’ll get the hang of it.” Kurt Holland looked like he could do just about anything he set his mind to.
He shrugged. “We’re gonna continue to take it one day at a time. That’s why tonight I’m home with pizza and beer, and he’s sitting at the game watching his girl cheer.”
It struck her then that Kurt had given up a lot to enroll Sam in Bridgeport High. He’d left his entire social network and gained a ton of responsibilities.
How many thirty-year-olds did that? She couldn’t think of many.
It made her feel even warmer toward him than she already did. It also gave her an idea that was no doubt dangerous. But how could she ignore it? There was something about Kurt Holland that struck her as lonely. And maybe it was because she had a soft spot for his brother, or maybe it was her nurturing nature. But she couldn’t just say goodbye and leave him to his pizza.
Or, to be brutally honest, maybe she didn’t want to say goodbye at all.
Before she lost her nerve, she said, “You know, I only ran into Kroger’s to get a couple of ingredients for dinner …”
His expression shuttered. “Right. I’ll let you go, then.”
“No, what I’m trying to say is that, well, would you like to come over for dinner? I’m no gourmet, but I can cook a decent meal.”
“Tonight?” The look on his face would have been priceless, if she wasn’t suddenly so embarrassed.
And, there she went, fast as lightning. She’d now turned the corner from embarrassed and was racing toward being officially humiliated.
Holding her hands up, she tried to laugh off her offer. “Hey, it was just an idea. Don’t worry. You don’t have to say anything. I’ll
just be on—”
“I’d love to.”
“Really? Gosh, I forgot to tell you what I’m making. It’s—”
“Anything is fine. Do you drink? I could bring the beer.” Looking at her sandals and simple black knit dress, he frowned. “Or, ah, I could get a bottle of wine, if you tell me what you want. I don’t drink much wine.”
“I drink on occasion. And thank you, beer sounds good. Want to come over in about an hour?”
“I can do that.” He pulled out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. “Now I better get your phone number.”
“You want my number?” Oh, Lord. Did she really sound as breathless as she feared?
Confusion filled his gaze. “Yeah. So you can text me your address.”
“Oh. Of course.” Her brain really was disintegrating to a teenager’s. And a shy, awkward one, at that. Slowly she gave it to him. Heard it ping when he texted her, so she’d have his number, too.
“See you in an hour, Emily.”
Her name sounded growly and really good on his lips. “See you then!” she replied. Way too enthusiastically. Sheesh. He probably thought she was desperate. Maybe she actually was.
He grinned and shook his head slightly before walking away.
Looking into her basket, she mentally figured out how long it was going to take her to finish her shopping, run home, start cooking, and clean her place.
It was never going to be enough time. Especially since he no doubt saw the two boxes of cookies in her basket. And the container of Graeter’s chocolate–chocolate chip. He was probably thinking that now he understood why she went to those hot yoga classes.
***
Kurt barely remembered getting through the checkout line. Wasn’t even sure how much he’d paid for everything, he’d just swiped his card.
Now, though, the reality of what he’d just said yes to hit him like a ton of bricks. He needed some advice, stat.
After weighing his options, he swiped his thumb over his phone’s screen two times then pressed the phone icon.
The Lord must have known he needed all the help he could get because his best friend in the world answered immediately. “Kurt?”
Take a Chance Page 4