Cross Country Chaos

by Lesli Richardson

  “Good. That was good.” She stood up, brought it back, and he patted the ground in front of him again.

  * * * *

  Maybe she should rethink not dating him. She wanted to lean back and kiss him. His strong arms around her like that, his hands on hers, it would be so easy…

  Kelly took a deep breath and tried to listen. He was so close, right there.

  After a few more puts, he switched to the discus and stretched his right arm along hers, helping her hold it properly, putting his other arm around her waist for balance and to show her the motion. “Swing it like this,” he said, stretching back. She moved with him and put her free arm over his arm around her waist, holding on, not wanting to let go.

  He hesitated, like he wanted to say something. God, she wanted to kiss him! She’d never wanted to kiss someone as much as she did right then.

  His voice a little hoarser, he continued. “He can’t throw it like a Frisbee. That’s the important thing.”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. When he finally told her to take a practice throw, he wasn’t in a hurry to remove his arm from her waist.

  She was certainly in no hurry to make him move it.

  “I guess I’d better go get it,” she said. He nodded, letting her go.

  Her knees wobbled, but she managed to get to her feet and retrieve the discus.

  “Can we do that again? I want to make sure I do it right.”

  Yeah, real subtle.

  He nodded, smiled, and she took her place in front of him again.

  Kelly closed her eyes and took a deep breath when he put his arm around her waist. She wondered if she was losing her mind. She barely knew him. She shouldn’t be doing this. Especially since he was Denny’s coach.

  But dang, he felt good.

  He took his time as his right hand positioned hers, arm outstretched, his long fingers placing hers on the discus. She risked leaning into him, enjoyed the feel of his body against hers and his warm breath on her neck.

  She took another practice throw, again slow to retrieve it. Meeting his gaze as she returned, she turned and sat in front of him, resuming her position.

  “I’d like to try that again,” she whispered.

  His voice sounded a little hoarser when he answered. “Okay.”

  He took more time helping her get her arm in position, slowly, lingering, his fingers seductively stroking the back of her hand. Her heart raced. So this was flirting? There was no doubt in her mind that’s what he was doing.

  Wasn’t he?

  Then the doubt returned. Why would he be interested in me?

  She took the throw and retrieved it, then resumed her position. He got the Turbo Jav, showed her how to position her hand and fingers, put his arm around her waist again. This time, she risked lacing her fingers through his and leaned back against him.

  What the hell? She was single, and so was he.

  * * * *

  Mart lost his train of thought. The last thing he wanted to do was misinterpret her signals and upset her. But the feel of her hand around his…

  He was glad he was wearing jeans. Hopefully she couldn’t feel his growing “interest.” He shifted position, just a little, so she could pivot her shoulder. He knew he didn’t imagine it when she pressed against him again.

  Was it too much to hope, or was she simply trying to learn this? “Did you want to do that again?”

  She nodded and resumed her position. She used coconut-scented shampoo. With her auburn hair pulled up in a loose ponytail, the nape of her neck was tantalizingly close and accessible.

  He slipped his arm around her waist. She immediately laced her fingers through his again.

  Was that a squeeze?

  God, he needed a cold shower. He wondered if she had any idea what she was doing to him.

  Maybe she did. He could only hope.

  She wanted to throw the jav several times. He was pretty sure he wasn’t misinterpreting her signals. She was enjoying it, taking her time, definitely holding his hand. She was about to ask for another throw when the boys returned.

  “When are we going to eat?” Denny asked.

  Mart swallowed his disappointment. He would have sat there all night with her like that, given half a chance. Her eyes held his. He smiled. “Whenever you want,” he said.

  She took a moment to answer. “Okay.”

  “Boys, take the gear back to my van for me, please. Your mom and I will be right there.” His eyes never left hers as the boys headed for the parking lot.

  Ask her. Right now.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. He wanted to lean forward and kiss her.

  “You’re welcome,” he whispered back. She squeezed his hand one last time before she slowly, almost reluctantly, got to her feet.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning, Kelly got the boys on the bus without killing herself or them. With less than two months left in the school year, she dreaded having the boys home all summer. How was she going to get any work done? Her mom and Patty would take them, yes, but not every day.

  She sat down to work when the phone rang. She screamed in frustration.

  “This. Is. Not. Helping!”

  She snatched the receiver without looking at the display. “Hello?” She didn’t care how sharp or shrill her voice sounded.

  “Uh, hi, Kelly? It’s Mart.”

  Oh crap! Her face flushed, remembering the dreams she’d had last night following their steamy practice session. “Hi, Mart, I’m sorry. It’s been a rough morning.”

  Her heart skipped at the sound of his laugh. “That’s okay. I just got a call. Denny’s chair is ready.”

  “I thought the company was supposed to call me?”

  “The factory is in St. Pete. I know a guy there.”

  “Nice to have connections.”

  “Yeah. I asked them to call me. We can pick it up over there. That way they can check it to make sure it’s right. Otherwise, it’d be another week before we get it from the vendor, and we need it for the Clermont meet.”

  “When do you want to go?”

  “Can you pull Denny out of school early tomorrow, meet me at my house? We can drive up together.”

  Her hand tightened on the phone. “Sure, I can do that.”

  He gave her his address and directions. “Meet me at noon. It’ll take about an hour to get there.”

  “Okay, we’ll see you there. Thanks, Mart.”

  “No problem. I’m glad I can help.”

  She ended the call and stared at the receiver. This was stupid. Six little monosyllabic words, that’s all it would take. Would you like to go out? Why the hell couldn’t she say them? Or much of anything around him.

  Speaking her mind was usually not an issue. Around Mart she lost the use of her extensive vocabulary.

  It would be easier to keep Denny home than pick him up early. She called his teacher and asked her to send his work home with him for the next day. Paulie had tests, and Kelly didn’t want to put him behind. She arranged for him to take the bus home with Patty’s son the next day.

  The next morning, Kelly fought her nerves and the urge to change clothes twenty times.

  This isn’t a date, it’s a wheelchair fitting. Good grief, get a grip.

  She eventually settled on jeans and a blouse that didn’t scream single mom with two kids.

  With Denny at the kitchen table doing his schoolwork, she took a few moments for her own work, then realized it was a useless effort.

  Remembering the feel of Mart’s arm around her was infinitely more appealing to think about than the article she was working on.

  She needed a distraction. She created a new document and stared at the screen. Poetry was always a personal refuge, one she didn’t intend to pursue seriously, simply an emotional release.

  She typed.

  You quiet the fire within me.

  She considered how she felt.

  The embers burned low and cool, dying in the ash.

  Yo
ur gentle breath stirred, stoked—

  Ah, not stoked. She used the backspace key to try again.

  Your gentle breath stirred the air

  brought me new life

  and once again the flame lived.

  She re-read the line. It matched her feelings.

  Afraid to tell you how I felt,

  I concealed behind the stones how hot I burned.

  Trite, but okay.

  And when I thought it would consume me,

  you quieted the fire within me.

  Kelly stared at the lines for a few minutes. It needed a lot of work. But more importantly, what was she saying? She could have sat there with him all night at the park, Mart’s arm around her…

  She gave up and saved it. She could finish it later when she had some privacy and time to think.

  “Okay, honey, you can finish your work later. Go get ready.”

  “Yes!” Denny spun around and flew down the hall to his bathroom. They were ready to go twenty minutes later, a record for them.

  Kelly felt a little self-conscious driving into Mart’s development near Lakewood Ranch, just outside of Sarasota. Her neatly kept twenty-year-old home felt shabby by comparison. He lived in a single-story, Spanish-style stucco home with a barrel tile roof. His landscaping wasn’t elaborate, but it was well-tended, as were all the houses on his street. The front walkway sloping gently up to the front door made a ramp unnecessary. She left Denny in the Element and rang the bell.

  Mart yelled from somewhere inside. “Come on in, it’s open.”

  Steadying her nerves, she opened the door and tentatively looked inside. It wasn’t fancy, but it was tidy and clean. She stopped in the entryway and looked around. Cream walls, oak furniture, functional and sturdy.

  “I’m back here,” he called from somewhere in the house.

  She took a few steps inside and found herself in the living room. Mart’s voice came from the hall. She saw one open door, the light on.

  “Denny’s outside. Do you want me to load him in your van?”

  “Sure, go ahead.” His voice definitely came from the open doorway.

  “Is it locked?”

  “Yeah. I have the keys here. Come on down, I’m decent. Well, I’m dressed. I don’t know how decent I am.”

  They laughed together. She walked to the door and stopped outside in the hallway. The bedroom, like the rest of the house, wasn’t overly decorated. A few pictures on the walls and plain, functional oak furniture. Neat, but not obsessively so.

  Mart was dressed, but his shirt was still unbuttoned, his hair damp from the shower.

  She wanted to run her hands through his hair and over his firm torso. Forget quieting the fire, she knew his lips would feel hot against her skin…

  Okay, stop that right now. You don’t know if he’s interested in you.

  Mart reached under his chair to the storage pouch hung from the frame and found his keys. “Here you go.” He rolled over and handed them to her. “I’ll be ready in a minute.”

  He met her eyes and held onto the keys for a moment before letting them go. That electricity shot through her again. Was he flirting with her? She was so out of practice she couldn’t tell.

  She found her voice. “Okay.”

  Kelly unloaded Denny’s chair, trying to keep her mind on the task at hand. Thank God she had Denny with her. Not that she didn’t want to be alone with Mart—she did. That was the problem. She feared if she were left alone with Mart, he’d discover what a babbling idiot she was, and whatever potential romantic interest he might have would disappear.

  Wouldn’t it?

  She quickly figured out his van lift and had Denny loaded by the time Mart emerged. His shirt was buttoned and neatly tucked into his jeans, and he had a small backpack slung on the back of his chair.

  “Here’s your keys.” She offered them, palm up. Her heart tripped when he placed his hand over hers, again with the hesitation, before taking them back.

  “I’ll lock the house.”

  She nodded, not trusting her voice.

  He loaded and greeted Denny. Then he smiled, his eyes lingering on hers. “Ready?”

  She returned his smile. “Let’s go.”

  Denny fired questions from the backseat, keeping Mart’s attention off Kelly and giving her time to study him out of the corner of her eye. He was so good with Denny, so patient, answering all his questions.

  What would he want with me?

  No one will want you, Kelly. David’s voice floated in from the past. One of the many things he repeated after she discovered his affairs and ordered him out, demanding a divorce. No one will want a woman with two kids, one in a wheelchair.

  So far, David had been right. It grated on her at the deepest levels.

  Why can’t you put this behind you? We’ll just carry on. He’d meant carry on as in he could keep carrying on while she played the dutiful wife and looked the other way.

  Although dulled by time, David’s sharp taunts still chipped away at her self-esteem.

  Why would anyone want me? So far, no one had.

  They arrived at the factory a little after one. Mart made the introductions. “Tom, this is Kelly and Denny.”

  They shook hands. “Nice to meet you. Follow me, we’ll get everything checked out.” Tom led them to a conference room and pushed some chairs out of the way to make more space. A few minutes later, he reappeared with Denny’s racer, a paint job similar to Mart’s.

  Denny’s eyes widened. “That’s so cool!” He touched it while Kelly once again fought her tears.

  Mart showed Denny how to get into the racer by himself, where to position his legs. Tom checked the measurements. “It’s a hair big, but that’s okay. It’ll give him room to grow. Shouldn’t interfere with his pushing.”

  “You’ll need these, buddy.” Mart reached into his backpack and pulled out a small bag. He handed it to Denny, and the boy opened it. Inside were a new pair of gloves like the ones Mart wore, only in Denny’s size.

  “Wow, thanks!” Denny leaned over and hugged Mart, who winked at Kelly over the top of the boy’s head.

  She knew the special Harness gloves cost over a hundred dollars. For practice, Denny wore Mart’s old gloves, taped around his wrists to keep them on.

  “You’re welcome. Put ’em on and let’s check it out.”

  They moved to the parking lot. Kelly stood out of the way, watching. Denny listened to Mart, hanging off every word as he explained the steering and compensator. Mart also explained checking his skin for any pressure sores or wounds from the chair. Then he let Denny push, correcting his stroke, and turned to Kelly.

  “I’d say this boy just got a lot harder to keep up with.”

  She smiled. “You think?”

  They loaded, Denny getting in by himself now that he was familiar with the lift. Mart helped Kelly stow the racer into the back of his van, and she touched his shoulder.

  “Thank you for the gloves. I’ll pay you back.”

  “No, you won’t. He needs them. We have to get him up to Clermont next weekend, try to qualify him. I can work with him several days between now and then.”

  “I can’t let you spend—”

  Mart took her hand. “I can afford it. If it’ll make you feel better, you can buy lunch. How’s that?”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “That’s settled.” He gently squeezed her hand. “Let’s go.”

  * * * *

  They ate in St. Pete before heading south. They had to wait for a table. Finally, the hostess seated them, moving two chairs to make room for Denny and Mart. She handed them menus and turned to Kelly. “What does everyone want to drink?”

  Kelly glanced at Mart, who warily eyed her over his menu from across the table. Denny was buried in his. “I want iced tea, please,” she said.

  “And them?”

  Kelly smiled at the hostess. “Why don’t you ask them?”

  Mart’s eyes crinkled over the top of his menu. He looke
d torn between irritation and amusement.

  The hostess, now flustered, apologized. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “I’ll have decaf coffee and a water, please,” Mart said, sparing her further embarrassment.

  “Root beer, please,” Denny said.

  When they were alone, Mart leaned over the table. “Thank you.”

  Kelly looked up from her menu. “For what?”

  “How you handled her.”

  She shrugged. “I go through this all the time with Denny.”

  “You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve been out, and whoever I’m with has no clue how to handle that.”

  “I promise I won’t cut your food for you either.”

  He laughed and sat back with his menu.

  “Mart, is it hard to qualify?” Denny asked.

  “No, buddy, not for you. I need to look up your classification stats, but you shouldn’t have any problems.”

  “How do we know for sure what his classification is?” Kelly asked.

  “That’s what we need to discuss. A friend of mine will be in Clermont, and she said she’ll do a classification for us. He’ll still need to be classified officially in Spokane, but at least we’ll know where he is. We have to get an early start on Saturday. Either you need to spend the night up there, or drive up really early.”

  She mentally ran through her credit card totals. She could do that. “Where do you stay?”

  “If you want I’ll make you a reservation, you can pay when you get there.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  * * * *

  Mart hoped his voice was steady. He didn’t want to scare her off, sensed she was still nervous about getting involved. He didn’t think he misread her signals, but then again, he didn’t have the best of records in the relationship department. He knew pushing hard would send her running—he wasn’t an idiot.

  She apparently had no idea how attractive she was. Not runway model gorgeous, but real-world beautiful, a woman who would still look fantastic as she aged, even if she didn’t think she did. And he loved that she wasn’t stick-thin. He’d dated women who looked like you’d break them if you hugged them too tightly. She had the perfect curves in the perfect spots.

  He’d spent many evenings after practice wondering how it would feel to run his hands over her curves. Especially after the other night, how good it felt having his arm around her waist…