The scent of cinnamon buns and coffee swirled in the air as she entered the diner. Red streamers looped from ceiling lamps to booths, and cardboard Valentine’s cut outs covered every conceivable inch of wall space. Nothing awkward at all about being surrounded by naked cupids with arrows pointed at her.
Laughter erupted from the far corner of the diner, where a group of people gathered. A pair of crutches leaned against a booth by them. Her chest tightened.
She stood on her tiptoes to get a better look at the table. Wyatt didn’t have a monopoly on crutches. They could belong to anyone.
Tamping down the urge to leave, she approached the booth. As she got closer, a couple of people moved out of the way, and she spotted Wyatt. He craned his neck around the group and caught her gaze.
The full force of those jade eyes focused on her took her breath away.
As he slid out of the booth, people moved to make room for him. Someone handed him his crutches, which he waved away.
Almost as one, the crowd turned and stared at her. Heat crawled up from the core of her body. Everyone had gone quiet. Jeans, a soft pink T-shirt, and sneakers had seemed the right thing to wear for a cup of tea. But now? Not so sure.
She forced a breath. Why did she care? Just because Wyatt was some superstar didn’t mean she should have to dress up. This was a diner, and it shouldn’t matter what anyone thought of her. Yet all eyes were on her and hell yes, they did seem assessing.
“Hey, guys, my friend’s here. I’ll catch you later.” Wyatt slapped a hand on the shoulder of the man beside him.
“Yeah, sure. See ya.” The group broke up, but not before giving Anne the once-over.
She cleared her throat and faced Wyatt. Maybe this was her out. She didn’t need the pressure of approval from his fans. “It looks like you’re pretty busy. I don’t want to—”
“No, I was waiting for you.” And something in the low register of his voice sent a thrill through her. Which she didn’t like at all. Or maybe too much. His teal polo shirt brought out the color of his eyes. As if they needed any help.
He gestured to the booth. “Please, have a seat.”
She slipped out of her coat, and Wyatt hung it on the hook attached to the booth.
“I hope you weren’t waiting long. I try to be punctual.”
His lips curved, and he ran a hand over his mouth. “Punctual. You’re punctual?”
She cocked her head. Was he making fun of her? Maybe he thought she was being flip. Or worse, an organized, planning, punctual bore, which was what her last boyfriend called her. Even though she’d been the one to break it off, those parting words had stung. “Yes. I like to be on time and not make people wait. Is something wrong with that?”
“Nope. What I wouldn’t give to get my football and lacrosse teams to understand that concept.” He waved to the booth again. “Please, have a seat.”
Too late to back out now, so she eased into the booth. She had this. Get through the coffee thing and be done. She assumed her polite attitude. She knew how to do polite.
Wyatt sat across from her. “What’s that look?”
“What look?”
“I don’t know. That expression on your face.” He scratched his chin, brows furrowed.
They stared at each other for a long, uncomfortable moment, and then a waitress came over. “Hey Wyatt. What can I get for ya?”
“Hi, Sally.” He gestured to Anne. “Ladies first.”
Guess he came there enough to know the waitresses. Since it was late afternoon, she’d best avoid caffeine. “Could I get a decaf tea, please?”
“Yup.” Sally scribbled on her pad.
“I’ll have a coffee.” Wyatt leaned to the left and checked out the glass cake stands on the counter filled with pastries. He turned back to face Anne. “You ever had one of their cinnamon buns?”
“No.” But the scent of them made her mouth water.
“You gotta get one. They’re to die for.” Excitement laced his voice.
Sally nodded. “He’s right.”
Eating pastries didn’t fit in with her plan of a quick escape, but Wyatt obviously wanted her to try one. “Okay.”
After Sally left, Anne pointed to his crutches. “How’s the leg?”
“Better. Amazing what some therapy and a week will do.”
“Why do I have the feeling you push yourself?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
“Because you wouldn’t take the crutches when your friend handed them to you. I think I got your number.” She placed a napkin on her lap. “Let me guess, you hobble out of PT after going to the max?”
“I’m kind of an all or nothing guy. If I’m there, I’m going to make the most of it. Besides, this crutching around sucks, and I want to get off these things.”
“Ah, stubborn and impatient. Your therapist must love you,” she said with a smile so he’d know she was kidding.
“My head’s swelling from all this flattery. Any more and I won’t fit out the door.”
His eyes flickered, and a zap of awareness pinged her. She’d never had these reactions before. Sure, she’d been attracted to men in the past, but never this almost electric energy between them.
He settled his broad shoulders against the back of the booth. “So, you said you teach fifth grade?”
“Yes. I love that age. Trying to get them ready for middle school.”
Wyatt shook his head. “Hormones starting up. That’s a tough job. Hats off to you.”
Sally returned with their drinks and then called over her shoulder as she left, “I’ll grab your buns.”
Wyatt chuckled. “She has no idea how that sounded.”
Anne choked on her tea and willed the image of Wyatt’s mighty-fine-ass out of her head.
His eyes danced with amusement, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She glanced around. Sure enough, four people sitting at the booth across from them stared at her. Two couples, who quickly looked away and whispered to each other.
“What’s wrong?” Wyatt followed her gaze.
“Those people were staring at me, or us. Do you know them?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think so. They look familiar, but I do come here a lot.”
“Oh.” Probably more fans. “I take it you were pretty good at football.”
He paused, coffee mug halfway to his mouth, and grinned. “Segue?”
“It’s just that everyone seems to know you. I mean, if you weren’t any good, then…” Damn. This wasn’t coming out right. Her ears burned.
“I didn’t suck canal water, I guess.” He smiled around a sip of coffee.
“Of course not. I didn’t mean that. I meant…” She fidgeted and blew out a breath. “Darn it. I can’t talk to you.”
He put his mug down. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” Liar. She knew damn well why. Every time she looked at him her body revved and sentences failed to form right. It’s like he gave her a brain freeze. Maybe if they discussed something less personal, she wouldn’t fumble over words. She’d come prepared. “I looked up some football trivia.”
“You did?”
“Yes.” She straightened. “Did you know the huddle was first used in the eighteen-nineties by a deaf quarterback?”
Wyatt jerked his head back. “Really?”
“Uh huh. He was worried the other team could interpret his hand signals, so he brought his teammates into a huddle to call plays.”
“No kidding?”
“I didn’t research the trivia, but that came up on a football facts site.” She ticked off the next one, since heck, he seemed impressed and interested. Not bored at all. “And kickers used to get way more respect. Touchdowns were worth four points and field goals, five.”
He grinned and shook his head. “I didn’t know that either.”
Sally returned with the cinnamon buns and set them on the table. “Can I get you anything else
?”
Wyatt pointed to Anne’s cup. “You want more tea?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
Sally nodded and left.
Anne gaped at the huge roll covered in rich, creamy icing. The heavenly scent of cinnamon and spice floated up, and she pulled a piece off. When she popped it in her mouth, her taste buds did a jitterbug. It’s possible that she moaned. She licked the icing off of her finger and glanced at Wyatt, who gazed at her mouth.
At least she wasn’t the only one fantasizing, if she read him right.
“This is sinful.” She pulled off another piece.
He jerked as if someone had shaken him awake, and then nodded. “Told ya.”
After a few bites, she asked, “Where did you play in college?”
“Syracuse.”
“Oh wow. They get a lot of snow there. You must have been freezing at the games.”
“No. They have a dome. But I used to shovel snow for money, and my first year there we got a hundred and sixty inches.” He took another sip of his coffee. “I made a bunch of bucks that winter.”
“That’s crazy.” She shuddered. “I would hate it. I like warm weather.”
“The snow wasn’t as bad as the cold. Below zero with windchills in the minus teens. A great city, but winters are brutal. You have to find creative ways to stay warm.”
She blinked. Sheesh, was he talking about…
He grimaced. “Shit, that sounded bad. And I made fun of Sally for what she said. I meant we used to build bonfires next to the frozen lake.”
“Gotcha.” She nudged the plate with her half-eaten cinnamon roll a few inches away. Still might not be far enough, but she’d make herself sick if she ate the whole thing. “What position did you play?”
Wyatt wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then rubbed his chin. “I’m curious about something.”
“What?”
“You googled football facts, but not my name?”
She squirmed. The temptation had been real, but she’d refrained. “I didn’t think that would be fair.”
“How so?” He rested an elbow on the table.
“Well, I mean, it’s not like you could look me up and find out about my life. And besides, you never know what’s true. I wanted to get to know you on my own.” Even though she’d been that close to doing it.
He held her gaze, and said in a quiet tone, “You’re really something.”
She swallowed, and a warm wave washed over her. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost track of her mission to get out of the diner, and it had nothing to do with the dessert. Contrary to what she’d expected, Wyatt wasn’t running for the hills, and neither was she. In fact, the complete opposite.
He sat back. “I played tight end.”
A tight end? Oh God. Right back to the bun images.
He leaned forward. “Are you okay? You’re flushed.”
“Yeah, it’s the tea I think.” She tugged at the neckline of her T-shirt.
Sally came back to the table. “Need some refills?”
“No, but I’d like an ice water please,” Anne said.
Wyatt bit his tongue to keep from laughing. Anne’s face couldn’t turn any redder. He’d bet the house she had no idea what a tight end was, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know why she’d blushed right after he’d mentioned that position. Adorable.
“Go on, how long did you play for the Ravens?” She took another sip of tea.
“Eight years. Same position. Tight end.” He couldn’t help himself.
She choked and held a hand to her chest.
Shit, he wasn’t trying to kill her. “You okay?”
“Mm-hmm.” She took a breath.
Sally brought Anne’s water, and she gulped the drink as Sally refilled Wyatt’s mug. “Need anything else?”
“Just the check. Thanks.” Wyatt said.
Anne set the water down. She seemed to be breathing normally again. “So, did you break any records? Like get the most sacks?”
God, she was so damn cute. “That would have been a nice trick.”
“Why? You’re famous and all, so I figured you must have broken some records.”
“I did.” He grinned. “But no sacks. A tight end plays offense. I was never on the field with the other quarterback.”
“Oh.” She frowned.
Crap, he didn’t want her to feel bad. She was trying so hard. “It’s okay. You told me up front you don’t like sports. I’m not offended.”
Her shoulders softened. “Good. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize.”
She nibbled her lower lip, and fire blazed a path to his groin.
“Hey.” He leaned across the table. “You went out of your way to look up facts about my sport. A sport you admittedly don’t even watch. And you told me things I didn’t know. That means a lot.”
Her tentative smile made his heart thump. She seemed to accept that he wasn’t making fun of her. He sat back. “Enough about me. What about you? Do you have family here?”
She nodded. “I have two younger sisters. Sarah is only an hour away, but Maddie lives in New York, and my parents retired to Florida. How about you?”
“Just me.” He held up his hands.
“You mentioned your mother when we met?”
A weight settled on his shoulders. “She was diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumor. They couldn’t save her.”
“Oh no. I’m so sorry.” Anne reached across the table and rested a hand on his wrist. Her gentle touch radiated up his arm.
“Yeah, it was bad. That’s why I retired. I don’t have siblings, and my father died in a car accident the year before. She didn’t have anyone to take care of her.”
Anne pulled her hand back and stared at him. Her blue eyes teared up. “Wow. You lost both parents that close together and gave up your career?”
Hell, the last thing he wanted was pity. “I think of it more as being lucky enough to have the money and chance to spend that tough year with her. I’m doing fine. I have the dog.”
“A dog?”
“Yup. I thought it might help my mom, you know, give her something to love and focus on. I rescued a mutt from the kill shelter. And then I had to buy something to drive him around in, so he cost me a pickup truck, but he’s worth it.”
“That’s really sweet. Is he a big dog?”
“Nah. Goober’s medium sized with light brown fur. I think he’s some sort of lab mix.”
“Goober?” Anne’s eyebrow raised.
“Yeah, he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer. A total goof, hence the name. But he loved my mother.” And he wasn’t the only one that missed her.
“I’m sorry you lost so much in such a short time. Do you ever think about going back to football?”
“I miss playing, but I’ve been out for eighteen months, and my replacement is tearing it up.” He took a sip of coffee. “I interviewed for an offensive coordinator job out at USC. I’ll start in the summer if I get the job.”
“California, huh?” She sat back and crossed her arms.
Didn’t have to be a brain surgeon to read that body language. But hey, he wasn’t there to bullshit her. She needed to know he might only be around until summer, which was all the more reason to keep things casual. “There’s nothing here for me anymore. I have no ties to the area.”
Anne’s mouth turned down at the corners and her eyes softened. “No relatives at all?”
“I have an aunt and uncle, but they live out west, so growing up I never really saw them.”
“Yeah, even though New York isn’t that far, it’s still tough to get together with Maddie. And now both of my sisters are pregnant, which makes it even harder.”
“Really? Both of them?”
“Yup. It’s Sarah’s second.” Anne dropped her gaze and shrugged. “I always thought since I was the oldest, I’d be the first to have a baby.”
She wanted kids? A punch to his gut went wide left. She had to be in her thirties, which me
ant her biological clock was ticking. Hell, he was nowhere near ready to go down that road, maybe never.
She glanced up and her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, I have no idea why I said that. I didn’t mean…I mean…”
An awkward silence stretched between them. Time for a subject change. “No worries. So, you want to be a vice principal?”
Her hitched up shoulders lowered. “That’s my goal.”
“Well you seem like a planner. You’re organized and punctual. My money is on you to land the job.”
Her face fell, and her back stiffened.
Shit. He’d meant to compliment her. “What did I say to upset you?”
She glanced at him with sad eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Just reminded me of something.”
Like hell he wouldn’t worry about it. He’d somehow hurt her.
Sally slid their check on the table and boxed the leftover bun. Wyatt dropped some bills on the slip, leaving a generous tip. “Thanks, everything was great.”
Anne fumbled with her purse, pulling out her wallet. “Please, let me pay half.”
“Call me old-fashioned, but I invited you, so my treat.”
“Well, thank you.” Anne quickly slid out of the booth and reached for her coat. He had to hurry to grab a sleeve and help her into it.
She picked up the box and thanked him again but avoided eye contact. Damn. His stomach fell to the floor. What had happened? They’d been getting along great, and then he’d told her he might move to the opposite coast, she’d brought up a baby, and he’d somehow insulted her.
Cold air blasted them when they left the diner. Anne crossed her arms and hugged her coat tight. Something he’d like to do, but that wasn’t in the cards. She’d closed herself off.
Nerves fired in his chest. He didn’t do nerves. Not on the field, not with women, not ever. Except big time now. Because despite the abrupt ending in the coffee shop, the thought of not seeing Anne again did unnerve him.
Once again out of words, he crutched his way to her car. Every step making him more determined to lose the damn things.
Love on the Line (Love Beyond Danger Book 3) Page 5