Hometown Girl

by Margaret Watson

  Claire watched Nick run off the field to receive a high five from Tucker. Her throat swelled. Even from the other side of the field, she could see Nick’s joy.

  “Hello, ladies,” a voice said in front of them, and Claire jerked her attention away from Nick and Tucker. Mayor Denton stood in front of the stand.

  “Hi, Fred,” Judy said. “What can we get for you?”

  “A cup of coffee and some popcorn.” His smile was too friendly. “I’ve heard you make the best popcorn in town, Lucy.”

  “We try,” Lucy murmured, as she headed toward the grill.

  “That will be a dollar seventy-five, Mayor,” Claire said, her voice expressionless.

  The mayor laid a twenty-dollar bill on the counter, and Claire picked it up to make change. Judy stopped her.

  “Fred, don’t be an ass,” she said. “Give me two singles or a bunch of change. I can’t break a twenty this early in the evening.”

  The mayor’s eyes flashed, but he picked up the twenty and rooted around in his wallet. “Here,” he said, throwing a five on the counter. “This is the smallest I have.”

  Claire handed him his change, along with the popcorn and coffee. Judy snorted as he walked away.

  “Blowhard,” she said, shaking her head. “The idiot thinks we’ll be impressed by seeing him flashing a wad of money. ‘This is the smallest I have,’” she mocked, her voice wickedly skewering the mayor.

  Claire turned to Lucy. “It sounded as if Mayor Denton was hitting on you,” she said, sickened by the thought.

  Lucy grimaced. “The old coot thinks he’s God’s gift. Prepare yourself. If you’re a single female in Monroe, sooner or later he’ll hit on you.”

  “He’s married!” Claire said.

  Judy rolled her eyes. “That’s a great big ‘duh.’ And you don’t have to be single to get Fred’s attention. He’ll hit on anything female that moves.”

  “If he’s such a hound dog, how did he get elected mayor?”

  Judy sighed. “The Monroe movers and shakers are pragmatists. The mayor has to do a lot of schmoozing with the state legislature, and Fred is good at extracting money from them.”

  Claire leaned against the counter as Lucy and Judy talked about people she knew. She was enjoying herself, she realized. Cool night air brushed against her skin and the cheers from the crowded bleachers swelled and faded with the plays on the field. Judy giggled at something Lucy said, and suddenly all three of them were laughing.

  “I’m glad you’re here tonight,” Judy said after a moment.

  “I’m glad you called,” Claire answered. “I’m having a great time.”

  Lucy smiled. “Who knew that working the refreshment stand at a football game was so much fun?” she said. “Welcome to small-town life.”

  “You both enjoy living here, don’t you?”

  “I sure do,” said Judy. “I didn’t expect to like it. I loved living in the city. Jim had to drag me here, kicking and screaming. But Monroe suits me now. And it’s been good for Booger.” She gave Claire a rueful smile. “If you had told me before we moved to Monroe that I’d be calling Tim ‘Booger,’ I would have said you were completely nuts. But I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

  “My perspective on Monroe comes from my childhood,” Claire admitted.

  “A lot of things look different from an adult point of view,” Judy pointed out. She flashed a sympathetic smile. “I’m not sure I’d want to go back and live in the town where I grew up.”

  “Sometimes you don’t have a choice,” Claire said.

  “Even when you don’t, sometimes it ends up better than you ever could have expected,” Lucy added.

  She walked to the back of the booth. “Time to gear up for the halftime rush. Claire, you can start with the hot dogs.”

  Before Claire could follow her, a blond man who looked familiar stopped at the counter. “Hello, Claire,” he said.

  Embarrassed that she didn’t remember his name, she gave him an impersonal smile. “Hi. Can I help you?”

  Annoyance flashed in his eyes. Because she didn’t remember his name? It vanished as quickly as it appeared, making her wonder if she’d imagined it.

  “I’m Derek Joiner. We spoke at the first football game. Your sister worked with me at city hall.”

  “Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t remember your name.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said with a smooth smile. “You have a lot to concentrate on.” He leaned over the counter. “I still have Janice’s things at the office. Would you like me to bring them to your house?”

  “No, thanks,” Claire said quickly. How did Joiner know where she lived? “I’ll stop by city hall next week and pick them up.”

  “No hurry,” he said. “I figured you’d been busy, wrapping things up here.” He winked. “Not that I’m in a hurry to see you leave Monroe. We can always use more beautiful women in town.”

  “Thanks, Derek,” Claire said. “I’ll see you when I stop by city hall.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” he said with a pleasant smile. He nodded to all three women as he walked away.

  “Pretty smooth, isn’t he?” Judy said.

  “If you like his type,” Lucy added.

  Claire glanced over at them. “Another one who thinks he’s a lady-killer?”

  Lucy grimaced. “Way too slick for me,” she said.

  Claire grinned. “Maybe I’ll work here at the concession stand with you two every Friday night. I’ll know everything there is to know about Monroe by the end of the football season.”

  “Stick with us, baby,” Judy said with a laugh. “We’ll let you in on all Monroe’s deep, dark secrets.”

  “But not at the concession stand.” Lucy shuddered. “Once a season is enough for me.”

  “Speaking of which, brace yourselves,” Judy said. “The halftime buzzer just went off.”

  AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER, after a disappointing loss, most of the fans had filed out of the stadium and the three women were cleaning the booth and putting away the food. Claire was washing the coffeepot when Lucy shrieked. Popcorn cascaded onto the floor in a yellow-white stream as she stared helplessly at the mess. Lucy had been having trouble with the popcorn machine all night.

  The three women slipped on popcorn as they struggled to turn off the machine, their giggles escalating to helpless laughter as it regurgitated kernels. Popcorn crunching beneath her feet, Claire staggered back against the counter, waving a dustpan and brush.

  “Smack it with the broom,” she called between hoots of laughter. “Don’t let it bully you, Lucy. You have to show it who’s boss.”

  “And here I thought you ladies were so brave, volunteering to work the concessions at the games. You’re having way too much fun to be working.”

  Claire spun around to find Tucker grinning at her from the other side of the counter. The khaki pants, blue dress shirt and tie he wore to Friday night games were slightly rumpled-looking, but they only emphasized his wide shoulders and long legs. The faint tang of clean sweat clung to him.

  “Hi, Tucker,” she said.

  “Hi, yourself.” He nodded at the mess on the floor, his lips twitching. “I guess it wouldn’t be smart to ask for popcorn.”

  “Not if you value your life. We just beat that machine into submission.”

  “Then I guess I’ll settle for a Gatorade.”

  “I’ll go grab one.”

  She headed for the small storage area and crouched down to retrieve a cold bottle. When she turned around to stand up, Tucker was right behind her.

  “The door was open,” he said. “I thought I’d save you some steps.”

  He was so close that she couldn’t help brushing the front of his body as she stood up. Her legs bumped against his and her breasts were less than an inch from his chest. The breeze through the open door was chilly, but heat rolled off Tucker’s body and seeped into hers.

  “Here you go,” she said brightly, handing him the bottle. When she tried t
o back up, she bumped into the stacked cases of Gatorade.

  “Thanks, Claire,” he said. Without taking his eyes off her, he unscrewed the cap and gulped it down. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his throat muscles, contracting rhythmically inches away from her.

  He finished the drink and tossed the bottle into the trash can. “I’ve been thinking about the Dog House all night,” he said in a low voice. “I had such a craving…” He gave her a slow, intimate smile. “For a Gatorade.”

  “We have plenty of that,” she managed to say.

  “So I see.”

  “I should finish cleaning up here,” she said, her hands scrabbling for a hold on the boxes behind her as she eased away from him. “Nick will be waiting for me.”

  “He asked me to tell you he’s going to Sparky’s with a couple of the guys,” Tucker said. “Take your time.”

  His eyes gleamed as they settled on her lips. For a breathless moment, she was sure he intended to kiss her. Then he moved away.

  “Thanks for the drink,” he said. “I’ll wait and make sure you ladies get to your cars safely.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she protested.

  “Oh, it’s my pleasure, Claire,” he said.

  With a smile that held a promise, he disappeared out the door.

  When Claire turned around, she saw Judy and Lucy watching with frank interest. “Looks like you have something to contribute to Monroe gossip after all, Claire,” Judy said with a wicked grin.

  Claire felt her face flush bright red. “Tucker wanted some Gatorade,” she said. “I guess he was thirsty after the game.”

  “Oh, he wanted something, all right,” Judy said. “But it wasn’t a sports drink.”

  “You have a dirty mind, Judy Johnson,” Lucy said, laughing.

  “It doesn’t take a dirty mind to understand that look on a man’s face,” Judy shot back. “Tucker might have said he wanted a Gatorade, but he wants Claire for dessert.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Claire said, grabbing desperately for dignity.

  Judy snorted. “You didn’t expect to keep this a secret, did you?” Her eyes crinkled with laughter. “And I thought you grew up in Monroe.”

  “There are no secrets in a small town,” Lucy said.

  But that wasn’t true, Claire thought. Everyone had them. Life wasn’t black-and-white anymore, the way it had been when she was younger. Now everyone’s life was shades of gray, an amalgam of choices made and roads taken.

  Claire looked at the other two women, women who were her friends. No one emerged from their childhood unscathed.

  Maybe the people in Monroe weren’t so different from people everywhere else.

  Maybe they were more like her than she thought.

  Maybe she was the one who needed to change her thinking about Monroe.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  TUCKER LEANED against Claire’s car and watched Claire, Judy Johnson and Lucy Groves walk out of the concession stand toward the parking lot. His heart sped up as Claire smiled at something Judy said, then turned to Lucy and laughed.

  “Down, boy,” he murmured to himself. But he tensed in anticipation as she said goodbye to the other women and headed toward him.

  “You didn’t have to wait for me,” she said, stopping a careful distance from him. “I think I’m safe in the high school parking lot of a small town like Monroe.”

  “You never know.” He moved toward her. “Someone thinking wicked thoughts could be waiting for you.”

  “Really?” she said, her voice light. “In Monroe?” Excitement leaped in her eyes.

  “You wouldn’t believe the wicked thoughts in the air tonight,” he said, heat rushing through his veins. He reached out and drew her close, wedging her against him, hip to chest.

  She looked up at him, her green eyes dark. “Try me,” she whispered.

  The urgent drumbeat of desire pulsed through him as he bent his head. When he kissed her, she clung to him and kissed him back, opening her mouth to him. Need obliterated common sense. Crowding her against the car, shadows surrounding them, he slipped his hand between their bodies and cupped it around her breast.

  Her gasp turned into a moan, and he drank it in. He deepened the kiss, and she wrapped her arms around him and melted into him.

  Tires crunched in the gravel behind him and a car horn honked. He jerked back. How had he forgotten where they were?

  “See what I mean?” he whispered. “Monroe is a hotbed of wickedness.”

  “I must be losing my mind,” she murmured, staring at him.

  “Did I offend you completely by kissing you in public?”

  “Maybe not completely.” She smiled, touching his lips with her fingertips, and heat surged through him again. “I think it’s a good thing we’re in public. I see what you mean about those wicked thoughts.”

  “I can fix the public part,” he said. Her arms were silky smooth and cool against his hands. He wanted to touch her everywhere.

  Moonlight highlighted the lines of regret on her face. “Nick is waiting for me.”

  “Tomorrow then.”

  Sadness filled her eyes. “Not tomorrow.”

  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  Her eyes softened at the endearment. “Nick and I are driving over to Bakersfield tomorrow to look at Janice’s car,” she said. “We want to make sure there’s no evidence that she had help going off the road.”

  Definitely not the time for seduction. His hands gentled, slid down her arms to twine with hers. “You want some company?” he asked.

  She sighed. “This isn’t going to be a fun trip.”

  “I know,” he said quietly. “Maybe I can help.”

  She searched his face. Finally she nodded, relief seeping into her eyes. “I’m taking advantage of you, but if you’re sure you don’t mind, I’d like that. Nick would enjoy your company.”

  He asked the now familiar question. “What about Nick’s aunt?”

  She smiled at him. “Nick’s aunt would enjoy your company, too.”

  It wasn’t a declaration of undying passion, but he’d take it for now. “I’ll be there. What time do you want to leave?”

  “I hate to wake Nick early. How about noon?”

  “Noon it is. I’ll see you then.”

  He felt her gaze on his back as he walked away and anticipation hummed through him. He’d made it clear he was attracted to Claire. He knew she was attracted to him. Her reluctance to give in to the attraction that smoldered between them aroused all his competitive instincts.

  Tucker wasn’t used to losing. At anything. And he didn’t intend to lose this time, either.

  “THIS IS IT.” The junkyard owner gestured with a tattooed arm at the twisted mass of metal and plastic that had been Janice’s car. “This is how it looked when it came in. We don’t get much call for parts from a ’91 Escort.” He smoothed his hand over his bandanna-covered head and gave Claire an apologetic look, as if he was embarrassed for her.

  He stood next to the wreck of the car, his arms folded across his massive chest, oddly protective of the ruined shell. The windows were gone and the roof had been peeled away to expose the interior. The torn vinyl seats, carefully patched with duct tape, were a silent reminder of her sister’s poverty.

  And her failure to help Janice.

  “Thank you,” Claire said. She looked at him, trying to keep the tears from spilling out of her eyes. “Can we look at it for a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” The owner gave her a kind smile that transformed his hard face. “Take all the time you want. I’ll be in the office when you’re done if you have any questions.”

  He disappeared down one of the narrow aisles, leaving them alone with the car. The car that had killed her sister.

  Without thinking she wrapped her arm around Nick’s shoulders and pulled him close. He edged closer to her, seeking comfort. He sniffled once, then swiped his arm across his face.

  Tucker stood off to the
side, studying the car. Trying to give them a little privacy, she realized with a flutter of her heart. She and Nick huddled together as Claire tried not to picture her sister as the car sank below the surface of the lake, struggling to free herself.

  Janice had been dead before the car hit the lake, she told herself sharply. That was what Chief Broderick had said. She’d died almost instantly.

  “Why…why is it so smashed up?” Nick asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought it went into the lake.”

  She tightened her hold on her nephew. “Chief Broderick said the car bounced down the embankment before it got to the lake.” She hesitated. “He told me your mother died instantly. She didn’t suffer.”

  Nick sniffled again.

  Tucker knelt by the left side of the car, studying the rear wheel. “Come and take a look here, Nick,” he said.

  Nick moved away from her and knelt next to Tucker. She squatted on Tucker’s other side.

  “Had your mom had an accident lately?” Tucker asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Nick answered. “She didn’t say anything about one.”

  “Are you sure? Look at this.” Tucker pointed to a deep indentation in the panel behind the wheel.

  Nick shook his head. “That wasn’t there, at least not two days before the accident.” His lip quivered. “I know because I washed the car. Mom was going to take me out driving. To practice before I started driver’s ed.”

  Tucker looked at Nick. “Yeah? How did you do?”

  Nick shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” His eyes filled with tears. “We just drove around the church parking lot, but Mom said I did a good job.”

  “I bet you did,” Tucker answered. He gave Nick an encouraging smile. “You have good judgment and good reflexes. You’re going to be a fine driver.”

  Nick stared at the ground, blinking furiously. “That’s what Mom said.”

  “Once you get your permit, I can take you out to practice,” he said. He glanced over at Claire. “Unless you want to learn on that sissy car of your aunt’s.”

  “Really? You’ll take me driving? In your truck?” Nick looked at Tucker. His eyes, drenched with tears, were suddenly full of stunned hope.