Smooth-Talking the Hometown Girl

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Smooth-Talking the Hometown Girl Page 7

by Charlene Sands


  She pondered for a moment. He imagined the wheels clicking around in her head. “Well...I do want to finish the book. It is important to me.”

  “I know,” he said, thinking it was important to him, too, that she finish what she set out to do. Pop had believed in her, and Kyle found he did also. Her ideas were brilliant, her recipes, innovative and delicious.

  After a long pause, she put out her hand, “Kyle Warren, you have yourself a deal.”

  He took her hand, wanting to crush her to his body, but instead politely and informally, gave it a shake. “Good.”

  Her blue eyes shuttered when she said, “And we’ll forget what happened the other night.”

  “Right,” he answered quickly. He’d never forget the passion they shared or the budding, fragile love they’d almost attained. He doubted she could either, but wasn’t about to argue the point. “Can you come over tonight?”

  “No, not tonight. I’m catering the pep rally at Bentley High.”

  “Oh, right. Well, then I guess I’ll see you there.”

  “You’re going?” Her voice elevated slightly and surprise registered on her face.

  “Of course. I’d forgotten about it but, as the assistant coach, I think I’d better be there for the team.”

  “Okay, then. Good bye.” She began to close the door.

  “Want to drive over together?”

  She nudged the door open a bit. “What?”

  “I bet you could use the help. Those trays must get pretty heavy.”

  “I have help. You remember my friend, Marlee. She’s a part-time employee. We do just fine. Th-Thank you anyway.”

  Clipped and to the point. Christy wasn’t going to make this easy on him. “Okay, let me know if you change your mind.”

  “I-I won’t,” she said, closing the door.

  Kyle grinned.

  Christy Evans, with all her cold indifference had hesitated briefly, and the slightest flicker in her eyes told him all he wanted to know.

  * * * * *

  “Hey, I thought your friend Marlee was going to help,” Kyle called out to her. Christy went down her porch steps holding a large aluminum tray of appetizers in both oven-mitted hands as steam rushed up.

  “The twins came down with chicken pox,” she said, not bothering to stop. She headed to her truck on the driveway.

  Kyle hurried over and intercepted the tray. “I’ll take that.” He gave her a smile as his hands covered hers. She tried not to notice how extremely handsome he looked in a Bentley High basketball jersey, but not noticing Kyle Warren was like going to Sedona and not noticing the beautiful rock formations.

  “Be careful, it’s hot.” She pulled her hands from the oven gloves, relinquishing them and the tray to him.

  “So, if Marlee’s twins are sick, she won’t be helping at the pep rally after all, will she?”

  “No, I couldn’t ask her to leave them.”

  “Well, then, I’m at your service, ma’am,” he said, tipping his head and winking. He carried the hot tray toward her truck.

  “I can manage.”

  “Ah, but big man have strong arms.” He lifted the tray high in the air. “See,” he said grinning.

  She laughed. Christy had to admit having a man’s help would make tonight so much easier. She’d really relied on Marlee’s help, but couldn’t blame her for backing out. She couldn’t leave the twins with a sitter when they’d just broken out with chicken pox.

  Feeding over two hundred students, teachers, and parents would not be easy if she had to do it alone. And she’d always depended on Marlee for help with the equipment on the larger jobs.

  “All right, I suppose I do need the help tonight.”

  “Then I’m your man.”

  She opened the doors of the truck and showed him where to stow the tray. Together they gathered up the remaining trays of food, the heating equipment, and eating utensils.

  When it was time to leave, Kyle piled in the driver’s seat and put out his hand. “You’re driving?” she asked, keeping her irritation to a minimum. He was helping her after all.

  “Yes, ma’am. Get in and save your energy. If I remember correctly, these pep rallies can take the ‘pep’ right out of you.”

  Again, Christy laughed, dropping her keys in his hand. Kyle did have the gift of charm. She warned herself not to fall victim to his attentions tonight. If he wanted her friendship, he’d have it, but nothing more.

  She climbed in the passenger seat and buckled up. Five minutes later, they were parked at the back entrance to the school gymnasium.

  “I’ll understand if after you help me unload, you go off to mingle. I can’t expect you to help me serve.”

  Kyle frowned, but gave her a nod.

  They set up everything quickly and easily along the length of five tables. Her appetizers warmed over burners, full punch bowls glistened with flamingo-pink liquid, and desserts of varied assortments decorated the far end tables.

  Streamers were in place, swaging down in colored glory from the ceiling, and banners that shouted, “Go Broncos!” decorated all four walls.

  Kyle stood behind the food tables, bantering with the students filtering in, throwing back their teasing taunts that the assistant basketball coach was serving up the food. But he took their jibs good-naturedly. He smiled and greeted the folks coming through the line as if he was really enjoying himself, serving up low-fat egg rolls, cheese puffs, and mini hot dogs as though it were a gourmet meal. Once in a while, the food he served would miss the plate. He’d make some inane comment about having better aim with a basketball, and then he’d catch her eye and give her a playful wink.

  Music filled the air as the cheerleading squad jumped, somersaulted, and rolled their way onto the basketball court. They did an acrobatic routine, yelling out a Bentley cheer. Christy shook her head in amazement. “I don’t remember being that limber,” she said.

  Kyle sidled up next to her. “You were.”

  “I was? It seems like eons ago, though it’s only been eleven years. I can’t move like that anymore.”

  He came a little closer and whispered, “You do all right, Christy.”

  Christy blushed and turned her head, busying herself with adding more punch to a near-empty bowl.

  When the team entered the gymnasium, shouts went up, and everyone cheered for the vying champions. Coach Patterson announced each player, and then all attention focused on Kyle as Jim made mention of the all-star basketball forward, who now resorted to serving appetizers from behind the food tables. Everyone laughed, and Kyle put up his hand, waved to the masses, and took a bow.

  Christy’s heart warmed, as if she’d been transported back in time. She remembered cheering the team on, watching Kyle make one great play after another. But she also remembered how the girls would flock to his side after the game.

  Christy had always gone out of her way not to be one of the hangers on. She’d wanted more from Kyle, more from life. Back then, she’d been determined not to settle for anything less. But time had a way of making mincemeat out of the best of intentions.

  “Are you all right?”

  She heard concern in his voice and when she turned to look at Kyle, she witnessed it, glimmering like dark onyx in his eyes. She shrugged, “Where did it all go?”

  He acknowledged her by the slightest tilt of his head. He understood. “It’s still there, if you want it to be. But it’ll never quite be the same. We’re older, wiser.”

  “Hmm. Maybe some are...wiser that is.”

  “You are.”

  She searched his eyes then. “Am I? Or am I just a fool?”

  “Christy,” he said on a deep sigh. “You were never a fool.”

  Veronica came up to the buffet line, and Christy had to mentally remind herself not to glare at the woman. “Hi, you two. Isn’t this great? Everyone’s got so much spirit. And the food, Christy. How anyone can make those little hot dogs taste so darn good is beyond my comprehension. As always, everything is delicious.”<
br />
  She gave Veronica a half-smile. “Thank you.”

  Veronica turned her full attention on Kyle. In a black knit tight sweater, the tall brunette couldn’t be missed or ignored. And Kyle had done neither. “Kyle, I still have to talk to you. Maybe a little later?”

  Cheers went up as the coach made an announcement over the loud speaker. “Don’t think tonight’s a good night, Veronica,” he nearly shouted over the commotion. “I’ll call you, okay?”

  “Sure thing,” she said amiably before waving her farewell to both. “I’ll wait for your call.”

  Christy pretended it didn’t bother her seeing Veronica drool all over Kyle. He hadn’t given her any explanations or excuses as to why he’d be meeting with Veronica, but simply went back to serving up the food.

  “That was fun,” Kyle said, packing up the last of the empty trays into the truck when the rally was over. “I can’t believe all the food went. There’s nothing left for a late-night snack.”

  Christy held up a small foil package. “Don’t be too sure. Neither of us had time to eat anything, so I hid away some food. Here, take it.” She handed him the package.

  “No way. You worked hard tonight. I watched you, and you never took a break. I’m not eating unless you do. And, Christy, I’m nearly famished.”

  “Okay, we’ll share,” she said, running a weary hand in her hair. “I’ll split it up when we get home.”

  “I have a better idea.”

  Kyle nudged her into the passenger seat of the truck, closed up all the doors securely then got in. “We’re going to eat in style.”

  Christy didn’t like the sound of this. Kyle was up to something. “What are you planning, Kyle Warren?”

  “Wait and see, Miss Edible Delights.”

  “Kyle!”

  “Well, that is your company name, isn’t it?”

  Christy shifted in her seat. She was very curious but knew she shouldn’t let her curiosity get the better of her. Kyle Warren had proven to her how dangerous a man he could be. “I want to go home.”

  “Just like Dorothy, right? Only before you click your heels, I’m taking you down the yellow brick road.”

  * * * * *

  Meadow Lake was dark, except for the light streaming down on the water, drawing a brilliant, luminous line from the descending moon.

  “It’s so peaceful here,” Kyle said, taking a bite of an egg roll. “I’d almost forgotten. I used to like coming up here.”

  Christy, unable to relax fully, glanced around. “I bet you came up here quite a bit.”

  “Mmm. We all did. It’s not a crime, you know.”

  Christy cringed inwardly, peering down the road at five cars parked with the best view of the lake. “Those cars are full of teenagers. I’ll die if they see me up here with you.”

  “Relax, Christy. I parked the truck far enough away. Nobody can see us.”

  “But the truck is very easy to spot.”

  He laughed and, throwing his arm along the rim of her seat, leaned in close. “With the name Edible Delights in hot pink lettering. What do you expect?”

  “I expect to be taken home, now,” she said without much conviction. In truth, after the long day of cooking and then serving at the pep rally, she really could enjoy the view and this time of repose.

  “If you really want to go,” Kyle said, reaching for the ignition.

  With a hand to his arm she stopped him. “No, no. It is peaceful here. Let’s eat our food and enjoy the quiet.”

  He relaxed back in his seat. “Okay by me. Don’t worry. I’ll go the long way back, around the lake, so we won’t have to pass any parked cars.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But would it be so bad to be caught up here? Or is it being caught up here with me that bothers you?”

  “No...I don’t know.” Her mind spun in all directions. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling other than confusion at the moment. She cleared her throat. “We’re adults. Parking at the lake is...for all of them.” She pointed down the road at the parked cars. “Everyone knows what goes on in those cars.”

  “And you’re afraid you’ll be lumped into that category if discovered up here?”

  “No, I’m not afraid. I’m...past it. We’re not teenagers anymore.”

  “That’s right. We’re not. So sit back, relax, and enjoy yourself. Did anyone ever tell you, you’re too uptight?”

  Christy bristled. “You always did. What did you want me to do? Fall all over you like every other girl in the school?”

  Kyle drew his head back as if he’d been slapped. “No. I didn’t want that,” he said quietly. “You’d be surprised if I told you what I wanted from you back then. But I’m not talking about our high school days. I meant now, today. We have the lake, the moonlight, good food, and you’re still uptight. Don’t you ever loosen up?”

  “Ha! I loosened up enough to sleep with you, Kyle Warren. And look where that got me.” Christy folded her arms across her middle and stared straight ahead. She’d been fool enough to give Kyle one more notch on his bedpost. Even staring out on the serenity of the glimmering lake wasn’t enough to calm her from her angry thoughts.

  Kyle tapped a beat on the steering wheel. She heard the thump, thump, thumping as his thumbs alternated hitting the wheel in a rhythm that rivaled her racing heartbeats. Finally, after the tapping ceased, she heard his intake of breath. He said in a voice that soothed, “I didn’t bring you up here to argue.”

  “Why did you bring me up here?” She wanted to know what more he wanted from her.

  “To enjoy a quiet meal after a long, hard day. That’s all.”

  “Oh.”

  “I thought we could start over...at becoming friends.”

  The sincerity in his voice made her feel like a shrew. She hadn’t been very gracious to him tonight. He’d helped her throughout the entire school event. She wouldn’t have been able to cater the rally with much success without his help. He hadn’t complained or made any undo advances at her.

  In truth, he’d been a perfect gentleman and a good friend. And how had she repaid him? By letting her anger get the better of her. She’d been difficult about coming up to Meadow Lake when in all honesty she was glad he’d brought her here. If only she could let down her guard around him. If only she could believe he didn’t have an ulterior motive for everything he did for her.

  If only she could place her trust in him.

  “I’m sorry. And I do mean it. You’ve been a tremendous help tonight, and I do appreciate you sacrificing your evening to help me.”

  Kyle let out a rueful chuckle. “That’s just it, Christy. Being with you is no sacrifice at all. There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be.”

  * * * * *

  Warren’s Hardware was running in the red. The store wasn’t showing a profit at all. Kyle couldn’t believe it. Warren’s had always been the only hardware store for miles, and the entire town had trusted the name. Pop had built this store from the ground up. Anyone who needed supplies of any nature knew where they could find quality, reasonable prices, and a staff more than willing to help.

  Kyle spent another hour rechecking the books from inside the small alcove Pop had named his office. Kyle was a numbers man, and the numbers weren’t adding up. It wasn’t as if Pop was in debt up to his eyeballs, but something strange was going on. The numbers definitely didn’t jive.

  Kyle stood up to stretch out his arms and back. After all this time and with Kyle’s constant encouragement Pop still had never deemed it necessary to enlarge his office. The space he had allotted doubled for an employee lounge and wasn’t more than an eight by eight room.

  But that was his dad. He’d never wanted much in life. He’d ran a good business and enjoyed his modest home on a quiet, tree-lined street in a small town. Often, Kyle wondered where all of his own ambition came from—certainly not from his father.

  That’s where the two differed. Kyle couldn’t wait to take college by storm and light out in the world to am
ass his wealth. And he’d done it, too. But often times, he’d think about the small town he’d grown up in, and the father whom he adored who absolutely refused to pick up stakes and move east to live with Kyle.

  He couldn’t blame him. Pop was strictly small town.

  Kyle wasn’t. He liked the hubbub of a large city, the challenge of making a living amid many high-staked competitors. He liked the noise and the rush hour and the nightlife.

  Flo whizzed in, setting her purse down, donning her white smock. “Sorry I’m a little late getting back from lunch. My hair dresser was running a little behind today.”

  Kyle glanced at her stiff silver-gray hair swept up in the same fashion she’d worn since he was just a boy. “Not a problem. Hey, listen, Flo. I’ve been going over Pop’s books, and it seems like the business is showing a slight loss. Did Pop ever mention anything about it to you? Did he seem concerned or worried?”

  Flo chuckled and put her hand on his arm. “Honey, your Pop wasn’t concerned at all. He practically gave half the store away.”

  Puzzled, he asked, “In what way?”

  Flo took a seat and gestured for him to sit down, too.

  “Well,” she began, “like the time, Jimmy Breslow came in and needed major repairs on his house. We’d had a terrible bout of storms come up and Jimmy’s ceiling nearly caved in. He’d been out of work for seven months. Your dad simply gave him the supplies he needed without so much as a second thought. Told him he didn’t have to pay him back until he got on his feet financially. Then there was Mrs. Redding who’d just had her fifth surgery. She’d needed special ramps built in her house for the wheelchair. Your dad donated all the supplies. The list goes on. There’s too many to name. He’d often said he lived a good life, had all he could ever need, so he began donating whenever there was a necessity.”

  Kyle ran a hand through his hair. With furrowed brows, he pinched his nose as he listened to Flo’s accounting. “Pop never told me.”

 

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