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French Fries with a Side of Guys

Page 2

by Rebekah L. Purdy


  What was with her today? She never dropped an order—that is, until now … And her luck would of course pick this moment to run out. Payton cursed the fries, and the plates, and well, the whole restaurant. Her life was over.

  Chance shook his head and chuckled. “That gives a whole new meaning to ‘do you want fries with that.’”

  Kyle joined in, laughing so hard he had tears forming in his eyes. “Don’t worry about it; we’ll pay for the meal.”

  “I’ll at least get you some more fries.” Payton scurried off and found her brothers doubled over behind the counter.

  “You definitely got his attention.” Bradshaw slapped her on the back, nearly knocking her over. Geez, sometimes he didn’t know his own strength.

  “Great, I’ll forever be known as the clumsy fry waitress.” She buried her head in her hands, wishing she could magically poof herself out of the restaurant. Or turn back time and tell her brother to take the table himself.

  “Give them free dessert.” Her dad smirked. “And maybe next time you guys shouldn’t make your sister wait on cute boys. It obviously screws up her balance.”

  “Ha. Ha. Glad you all think this is hilarious. Now Chance probably thinks I’m a total idiot.” She threw her hands up in the air. With a deep sigh, she calmed herself then trudged back out to the dining area.

  This time she was extra careful when she set the fries down in front of him. And Chance stood up for a moment, so she could sweep up the mess on the floor near their table. Payton gasped as her gaze slid over him. God. He was freaking hot. Not to mention he’d gotten taller since she’d seen him last fall. Standing beside him, she could picture laying her head on his broad shoulder and letting him wrap his tanned arms around her. It was like every romance novel come true, and she had half a mind to faint and see if he’d try to give her mouth-to-mouth. But instead she turned her attention back to sweeping.

  “If there’s anything else I can get you, just give me a holler.” Like a kiss or a hug or a back rub. Not that Payton would say those things out loud. “Oh, and pick out something from the dessert menu, it’s on the house.” She gave a shy smile and left to clear off one of her other tables.

  They did call her over one more time for drink refills, declining her offer for free dessert, whether it was because they were full or afraid for their lives she wasn’t sure.

  “It was nice meeting you.” Chance slid out of the booth, his arm brushing against hers.

  Her skin sizzled like her arm had been shoved into the fry cooker. She instinctively rubbed the spot where they’d touched. She never wanted to wash it again. Okay, so that was gross, but come on, Chance Montgomery’s arm had totally touched hers.

  Chance peered at her name tag for a moment, then smiled. “I’ll see you at school, Payton. Or maybe before.”

  With that, the Montgomery brothers sauntered out to a red BMW and pulled out of the parking lot.

  “I’ve so got to find a way to talk to him again before school starts,” she said, coming up to stand between Marino and Bradshaw.

  Marino appeared lost in thought for a moment then exchanged a look with Bradshaw before speaking. “Actually, we were just talking about that. Not that you making him wear his lunch wouldn’t trigger you in his thoughts, but—and don’t take this as an encouragement to date—what if you tried out for the football team?”

  Payton laughed, staring between them. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Nope,” Marino said.

  “I’ve never played on a real team before. Not that our family games aren’t awesome and stuff. But come on, the guys are huge compared to me.” Maybe her brother had taken one too many blows to the head. It wasn’t as if she didn’t like the game, because in truth, football was her favorite sport. She’d just never considered playing on one of the school teams. But it couldn’t be that much different than playing with her brothers in the backyard, could it?

  “So? You’re damn good. If you can keep up with us, why wouldn’t you be able to make it?” Bradshaw wrapped her up in a bear hug, squashing all the air from her lungs.

  “Breathe—need to breathe.” Payton tried wiggling out of Bradshaw’s grasp.

  “We’ll help you get ready,” Marino offered. “Besides, guys love a girl who knows her sports, and this will give you the perfect opportunity to talk to lover boy.” As if realizing what he’d just said, he frowned. “On second thought, maybe this isn’t such a great idea.”

  “I think she just needs to be herself.” Lily came over shaking her head. “She doesn’t have to put on football pads and get creamed by a bunch of guys for them to notice her.”

  Marino ruffled Payton’s hair, ignoring Lily. “You’ve been wanting to play more sports anyway.” Of course this was true, but she’d been thinking more along the lines of volleyball or softball.

  Payton stood there for a moment, contemplating. But everything her brothers said made sense. Her favorite sport was football, and she’d be able to see Chance every day. Not to mention she might even get the opportunity to tackle him. Her smile widened. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

  “Okay—but I hope you guys know you’re breaking the news to Dad.” She turned to go wait on more tables, wondering just what she was getting herself into.

  Payton sat on the porch swing biting her nails until there was nothing left of them. She glared at the bleeding cuticle, like it was at fault for her butterflies and nausea. She swung her legs back and forth, smacking her best friend Kelly’s in the process.

  “Sorry.” Payton grimaced.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this?” Kelly rubbed her shin. She gave her chin-length black hair a toss, peering at Payton with concern.

  “Yeah, I only hope I can get Chance’s attention.” She traced the grain of wood in the swing. “And if I wasn’t nervous enough, now my brothers and dad want to watch me try out.” She rolled her eyes, shifting her attention to the helmet by her side. Up until about five minutes ago, she’d managed to keep her worries in check. But the closer she got to tryout time, the more her palms sweated and her heart thudded out of control. If she wasn’t careful, she might just vomit.

  “From what you’ve told me, I think he might already be into you, so why go to all this trouble? Besides, you’re supposed to want to date the football player, not be the football player.” She bumped Payton’s shoulder with hers.

  “I love football, and this is my one chance to show everyone I’ve got what it takes to make it, boys or no boys. I mean, you know how it is with me, Kel—I eat, sleep, and breathe football … ” Payton leaned over so Kelly could finish braiding her hair, while she was still trying to put the pads into her football pants.

  “Have you told Jake you’re trying out yet?”

  Jake. Payton’s other BFF. Who was still overseas, living it up, while they roasted their asses off here. “No. Not yet. I figure I’ll text him if I make the team.”

  The sun was already beating down, and it was only supposed to get more humid as the day progressed. Not that it would really matter; she was already sweating like a hog.

  Payton sucked in a deep breath, catching the faint scent of roses upon the air as the wind shifted. Roses that her mom had planted years ago. A sad smile touched her lips, remembering the day they’d all helped dig the holes for the bushes. It’d ended in a huge water fight, with the garden hose and buckets filled with water. Her mom had threatened that they’d better not track mud into the house or they’d spend the rest of the weekend cleaning the floors. Which of course had turned the water fight into a mud war. God, she missed those moments so much.

  Payton let go of the thoughts, forcing herself back to reality and away from that summer day many years ago.

  “Well, I think you’ll be great. I mean, how could you not be with all those brothers you’ve got?” Kelly teased while she finished Payton’s hair and tied it back with a rubber band. “You’ll have to call me tonight and let me know how everything went.” Kelly grabbed her pur
se as her mom pulled up in a beat-up minivan. “You know if I didn’t have to babysit the brats”—she pointed to her siblings dangling their arms out the window of the van—“I’d totally be there.”

  “I know. I’ll call you tonight to tell you what happens, but they won’t be giving out positions right away.” She waved.

  The screen door screeched, and Marino and Bradshaw came outside then plopped down beside her.

  “Ready?” Marino smiled, handing her one of his old jerseys to put on over the large shoulder pads.

  “As I’ll ever be.” She managed a wobbly smile before sliding her last pad into the football pants. The one consolation of being a girl was at least she wouldn’t have to wear a cup. Not that she foresaw anyone hitting her in the crotch anyway. But that didn’t stop her brother from having some fun. They’d decided to place a jock cup on her pillow this morning as a wake-up gift. There was something sick about jolting awake and gazing directly at it while her siblings stood back and laughed at her.

  “Montana’s gonna drive the other boys up in a few minutes, and Dad’s meeting us there,” Brad said as they all slid in. “Whatever you do out there, just stay focused on playing the game—ignore the guys unless they’re directly involved in your play, because they’re gonna be trying to psyche you out.”

  “Just throw like I taught you, and you’ll be fine,” Marino added. “If you need to roll out of the pocket then roll, but try and let your line do their jobs too. I’ll be on the sideline if you need me.”

  Her brothers had run lots of drills with her over the past week. Running her, teaching her different passing and handoff plays. But no matter how much practice and working out she’d done, it still didn’t chase away the panic. Payton’s stomach tied up in knots when they pulled up to the high school football field.

  A large statue of a tiger stood out front, greeting them as they came in. Above the mascot, were the statistics and records of the best players and numbers for the last sixty years. At the top of nearly every list was one of the Carter boys, and she couldn’t help but beam with pride.

  “Just think, maybe at the end of this season your name will be up there under the freshmen.” Brad clapped her on the shoulder before going through the gate.

  Wearing a rainbow of colored jerseys, numerous players were already stretching out on the field or tackling one another to the ground. The coach, however, stood on the sidelines talking to a couple of the parents, his whistle dangling around his neck.

  “Hey, pumpkin,” her dad called out, hurrying across the field to talk to her. “You nervous yet?”

  Nervous? That was an understatement. But she pasted a smile on her face. “A little, but I’m ready.” She cracked her knuckles then attempted to slow her breathing, which in no way did anything to calm her.

  “Hey, what are you Carters doing here?” The coach jogged over. “I thought you didn’t have another one due to come up until next year?”

  “Hi ya, Bill, actually my little girl is trying out.” Dad grinned from ear to ear, giving the Cheshire Cat a run for his money. “She’s tough as nails and has a pretty good arm on her.”

  Coach Youngman’s face went slightly purple, as he seemed to choke on his words. “Mr. Carter, may I have a word?” His eyes were pretty close to bulging out of his head, and Payton watched her father’s smile fade as he followed after Coach Youngman.

  Great. This definitely didn’t bode well for her. Already she saw some of the other guys watching the interaction. Payton couldn’t hear a word her dad and Coach Youngman were saying, but her father’s wild hand motions told her all she needed to know. She probably wasn’t welcomed on the team.

  “Don’t worry. Dad will set him straight.” Marino nudged her arm as if sensing her distress. “Besides, you’re a Carter, he’d be insane to turn you away.”

  She nodded but knew there were some battles her brothers and dad couldn’t fight for her. She’d have to show the coach how good she was on the field. Well, if she was given the chance.

  After a few minutes, Coach Youngman came back over with her dad and gave Payton a forced smile. “We’ll be glad to have her. If she’s got the right moves, she’ll have a place on the team.”

  It seemed to Payton that the word “if” was getting a bit more emphasis than the rest of the words in the sentence, and she suddenly wondered if she’d even make the cut.

  Marino slapped her on the backside. “Don’t worry about anything. You’ll be great. You’ve got this.”

  She watched as the rest of her brothers came in, all of them standing around waiting to see what she could do. It almost made her more nervous, because that meant a bigger audience if she screwed up.

  “Just look to the sideline if you need us. We’ll give you some helpful gestures.” Rice held up his middle finger.

  Payton socked him in the arm. “Sometimes you’re a douche bag, you know that?” Knowing she couldn’t prolong it any longer, she ran out onto the field. The scent of freshly cut grass wafted in the air.

  Payton glanced around. She recognized most of the boys from school, and suddenly wanted to hide, as they realized who was coming out to join them. She spotted Matt Atkinson, whose older brother played center on the varsity team and ran over to him. Her brothers were pretty good friends with the Atkinson boys, so she figured she’d at least have one person to talk to.

  “Hey, Matt.” She grinned, giving him a nod.

  He appeared happy to see her and proceeded to slap her shoulder pads, which almost sent her staggering backwards. Payton had no idea why all the guys she knew thought she needed to be tapped, slapped, or socked—she wasn’t a freakin’ punching bag.

  “You just couldn’t let a year go by where one of the Carters wasn’t on the freshmen team, could ya?”

  “Something like that.” She laughed. “So are you trying out for the center position?”

  “Yeah, my brothers had me out all summer practicing my blocking and snapping. I’m definitely getting better.” He lifted a beefy palm to swipe his brown hair out of his eyes, the sweat already glistening along his brow.

  “You look like you’ve trimmed down some too,” Payton said as he swung around to wave at Mike Destin, one of the halfbacks.

  “It’s all that running and working out my brother made me do.” He chuckled while trying to hide his red face from her.

  From behind her, Payton heard a familiar voice and turned to see Chance Montgomery coming onto the field. Her eyes followed his tall frame sauntering forward. He carried his helmet in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. She willed him to look at her, wishing she had the ability of Jedi mind control.

  “Hey, Payton Carter, what are you doing here?” He jogged over to her, his ivy-colored eyes colliding with hers.

  Holy crap! It’d worked. Her Jedi Master training was complete. Now she just needed to remember how to talk. “Trying out for the team.” She smiled. He’d actually remembered her name. This was like her Cinderella moment, only she was in football pads and there was no gown or castle in sight.

  “Really?” He raised a skeptical eyebrow, like she’d just sprouted horns and a beard.

  Okay, so that wasn’t quite the reaction she’d hoped for, but at least he didn’t tell her what a shitty idea it was. “Yeah, I love the game, and my brothers suggested I go for it.” She nodded toward the sideline that her siblings seemed to be monopolizing.

  “Good luck then.” Chance gave her shoulder an awkward pat as if he wasn’t sure how to act around her. He glanced around the field then turned his attention back to her. “If you don’t mind, I’ll probably hang out over here with you, since I don’t know anyone else.”

  Payton gave a silent cheer. This was really happening. Chance Montgomery was talking to her. And standing right next to her. So close that if either of them shifted an inch, their arms would be touching. She could smell his cologne from where she stood, and it made her legs turn to mush. So maybe this was gonna work out better than she thought. Payton was suddenly
glad she’d dumped fries on him.

  “That’s fine,” she answered then remembered her manners. “Matt, this is Chance Montgomery.”

  “Hey, man, how’s it going?” Matt held out a large hand.

  “Not too bad.” Chance cast a curious glance at the smiling Payton and gave a shrug.

  “Okay, ladies, bring it in so we can get started.” The coach blew his whistle. As if realizing what he’d said, he gave Payton a sheepish look. “I wasn’t meaning that in a derogatory way, Ms. Carter.”

  Payton just laughed with the rest of the guys, but her fists clenched at her sides. She hoped she wasn’t going to have to deal with stupid comments like that all season. Not that she thought Coach had done it on purpose—but still. She didn’t want to be a joke. She had every intention of playing her ass off. Payton took a knee alongside the rest of the team while the coach talked.

  “Welcome to freshman football tryouts. Over the course of the next few days, you’re going to be put through various drills to see where you’re at and if you might have a place on this team. If you don’t make it this year, there’s always next year. All I ask is that you give it your all.”

  He eyed each one of them in turn, his gaze coming to rest on Payton.

  She swallowed hard. If anyone out here had something to prove, she knew it was her. Already she could hear the whispers amongst the guys and some of the parents on the sidelines. She just had to stay focused.

  “I’m going to have you stretch for a few minutes before breaking you up into two teams. We’re not doing full contact today, but be forewarned: tomorrow we will.” The coach had them count off by twos before leading them through the stretches.

  Once they’d done this, he gave the order to break off into their groups. Payton was happy Matt was with her, giving her at least one friendly face amongst the crowd. Not that anyone was openly shunning her, but the strange looks and whispers weren’t doing anything for her butterflies or confidence. She heard small bits of conversation drifting her way about girls trying out for a boys’ team. But she reminded herself that she was a Carter and just as good as everyone else—or at least she hoped.

 

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