did it feel so automatic to want to blurt out the truth?

Gary was all but useless, and there were times when Lucy was desperate to talk to another adult male about an issue with her son. She had a feeling Drew would understand because of the way he’d talked to her at the hospital, implying he had knowledge of rocky paths and teenage boys. But how could she tell Drew about the drugs? If Drew knew her son smoked marijuana, he’d be out of Little League without a half second to spare.

Lucy groaned, dismayed over the dilemma. The one man she thought she might be able to talk to about this was the very last man she could turn to. Thoughts about talking to him were banished.

Seeing the natural rock pillars for the Knolls, Lucy turned into the community. There was a berm that ran down the center of the road, and homes seemed to be built on five-acre lots.

“Yes…he definitely has an attitude,” Lucy responded into her cell phone. “And I—”

Lucy cut herself short as a stealth-gray Hummer, its window down and Drew sitting behind the wheel, drove toward her on the exclusive lane. She slowed, just as he did, then pressed the button of the driver’s window.

Lucy disconnected the call, staring at Drew.

“Hey,” he said, his smile easygoing and warming her to the core. “You looking for me?”

She had to fight a battle of personal restraint, remind herself he wasn’t available, was all wrong for her. She still didn’t care for his image, not to mention he was her son’s Little League coach now. Awkward, to say the least, if they ever dated.

Still, that knowledge did little to stave off the rush of heat to her cheeks when she looked up at him in that monster-size vehicle with its glossy chrome grille and testosterone-fueled accessories.

“No…sorry.” It was the best she could offer without giving away the fact her heartbeat had sped up considerably, leaving her all but short of breath. “I’m looking for the Greenbaums.” Gazing away, she briefly referred to her notes while collecting herself. “They live on Saddle Road.”

He let his arm rest casually on the open window frame as he leaned his head out a little. His short hair was slightly windblown, the hazel in his eyes looking more gold in the sunlight. She noticed his forearm was tan, a golden contrast against the white T-shirt he wore.

She tried not to get too hung up on his appearance, willed her reaction toward him to calm down. This was insanity. She knew better.

Drew’s voice was just as buttery as the honey color of his skin. “Go down four houses, turn left. They’re on the corner.”

“Thanks.”

She kept her foot on the brake, unsure what to say next. She gazed at him, willing herself not to stare. It didn’t work.

The man looked great. There was no question. His hair just beckoned a woman to smooth it out. He moved his arm. A titanium watch encircled his wrist, a wrist that he now rested on the steering wheel. She could hear rock and roll softly playing out of the speakers.

Vaguely wondering what he was doing here, she was about to ask when he said, “I live across the street from the Greenbaums. They’re good people.”

Of course he lived in here. A former pro-ball guy could afford most anything in Timberline if he’d invested his money wisely. He’d been retired for more than a few years—at least that’s what Susan had said.

“I like the neighborhood,” Lucy remarked, glancing at the big home to her right. The drive was circular, the stonework stunning.

“Me, too. You ought to come over sometime. Bring the boys and I’ll show them my baseball stuff. I’ve got a bunch of team balls and autographed jerseys in my office. Lots of photos.”

That he could casually invite her to his house put a ridiculous skip in her pulse. Why in the world would he be interested in her when he had a girlfriend? That just proved her point. He was involved with one woman and flirting with another. Then again, maybe he was sincere about showing her boys his baseball memorabilia.

But she’d seen how the women in Red Duck threw themselves at him, and perhaps he expected her to do likewise. She’d watched the baseball moms, even the married ones, hone right in on him on the playing field. It had been ludicrous the way they drooled over him. She wasn’t like that. Not at all—

He was smiling at her and she forgot her train of thought.

“I’m sure the boys would like that.”

What was she thinking, responding with that answer? She was losing her mind.

“I could show you the creek that runs through my property. I have the kids out and they fish in it. Never really catch anything.”

And Lucy didn’t want to catch an infatuation for the town’s single, and too-good-looking-for-words, coach. Especially since he seemed to forget he was taken.

“How’s Jacquie? Your girlfriend?” she added bluntly.

“She’s good.” His voice didn’t change in inflection, as if it was no big deal. Perhaps Lucy had wanted to see if she could get him to shift in his seat, make him uncomfortable. But he didn’t display any signs of discomfort.

“Well, I better go,” Lucy said after a moment, more upset with herself than anything else. “See you around.”

“See ya, Lucy.”

The way he said her name gave her an involuntary shudder of pleasure, and she grimaced that she could be so easily charmed by him. She accelerated, forced thoughts of him from her mind, then found the Greenbaums and gathered what she needed to make her presentation.

Once inside the lovely home, she immediately liked the couple and felt confident she could sell herself and her menu.

Cooking was Lucy’s passion. When she was a child, she’d watched PBS Saturday cooking shows rather than cartoons. Most of her recipe inspirations came from the Internet or cookbooks. She was always trying something new, enjoyed discovering wonderfully delicious flavors in restaurants, then putting her

Вы читаете Stef Ann Holm
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