Page 7 of Sweet Deal
“That’s one lap.” Jim grinned.
“Just wait,” Rachel countered. “See the kid by the swings with the hot dog? Ten seconds and that dog is stopping for a snack.”
Sure enough, the retriever skidded to a halt beside a young boy holding a hot dog. The boy’s mother snatched the food away just in time, but the pause was enough for the retriever’s owner to dive forward, missing the dog but managing to grab the Frisbee.
“Ha!” Rachel crowed as the retriever, without his prize, circled back to his owner’s side. “Less than two laps, as predicted.”
“Technicality,” Jim protested. “They caught the Frisbee not the dog.”
“Nope. Rules are rules, Henderson.” She held out her hand, wiggling her fingers. “Pay up.”
Laughing, Jim dug into his pocket and pulled out a five-dollar bill, pressing it into her palm. Their fingers touched, and for a brief moment, neither moved. Pulling in a deep breath, he drew his hand away and shifted in place. “You always could read a situation better than me.”
Her expression unreadable, she folded the bill carefully and tucked it into her shirt pocket. “Social worker, remember? Reading people is my superpower.”
“And fixing them your kryptonite,” he teased, remembering how even as kids, she’d always tried to solve everyone’s problems.
“And that, Mr. Henderson, is why I love what I do.”
“I can see that.” He smiled and children’s laughter reached his ears, sparking an idea. “You know, I haven’t played a decent game of corn hole since I left Texas.” He stood up, offering her his hand. “How about we see if either of us remembers how to actually get a bag on the board? And maybe,” he smiled wider, “I might even win back my five dollars.”
Chapter Four
The challenge hung in the air between them; playful and so quintessentially Jim that Rachel couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. Win his five dollars back at corn hole? It was like stepping back decades, to a time when their biggest worries involved navigating high school hallways and finding creative ways to beat each other at everything from skipping rocks to arcade games. It felt easy. It felt normal. It felt… surreal.
She let him pull her to her feet, the warmth of his hand lingering even after he let go. Her gaze did a quick, involuntary scan from his perfectly combed hair down to his ridiculously impractical shoes. Expensive tasseled loafers. In the heart of West Texas cattle country. Oh, this wouldn’t do. Not at all.
A mischievous grin she couldn’t contain spread across her face. She deliberately looked him up and down again, slowly this time, letting her amusement show. “Planning on beating me at corn hole dressed like that, Henderson?” She gestured pointedly towards his feet. “I hate to break it to you, but that buttery leather, nice as it is, won’t survive five minutes on an unpaved surface.
He glanced down at his shoes, then back at her, a flicker of something in his gaze—maybe surprise, maybe embarrassment—quickly replaced by that easy grin. “They’re comfortable.”
“Comfortable for closing million-dollar deals, maybe. Not so much for actual real life.”
“Closing deals isn’t real life?” He did his best to put on a stern expression, but the twinkle in his eyes gave away the humor he was hiding.
“That’s right. And don’t even get me started on those slacks.” She waved a hand dismissively. “You can’t possibly be of any use to your family, or muck about the corn hole courts looking like you’re about to attend a yacht club luncheon.”
He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture endearingly familiar despite the years. “Point taken. Problem is… I don’t actually have any jeans or boots here that still fit.”
She burst out laughing again. James Henderson, successful California businessman, back in his hometown without a single pair of functional jeans. It stripped away some of the intimidating polish, making him feel less like a visitor from another planet and more like the slightly clueless friend she remembered.
Shaking her head in mock disbelief, she settled her hands on her hips and tipped her head at him. “What happened to the Texas boy I knew?”
“Apparently, he got temporarily distracted by sunshine and stock options.” Jim fell easily into their old rhythm of banter. “Figured I could sort out the wardrobe later.”
An idea took hold. “Well, later is now. Consider this your official Honeysuckle Welcome Wagon intervention, conducted by yours truly.” She hooked her thumb back towards the shops lining Main Street. “Forget corn hole for a minute. First mission: Operation Find Jim Some Real Clothes. We need to get you into a decent pair of jeans that look like they might actually encounter dirt occasionally, and boots that won’t dissolve if they step in something… organic.” She started walking towards the street, glancing back over her shoulder, enjoying the slightly bewildered look on his face. “Unless, of course, you’re worried a little denim and leather might cramp your sophisticated California style?”
He hesitated for only a second before that familiar laugh rumbled out and he fell into step beside her, easily matching her stride. “I’m all yours.”
All yours.Loaded words if ever she’d heard any. It took a few moments to drag her mind back from places they should most definitely not go. Her job was to get this guy some decent work clothes so he didn’t stick out like a sore city boy’s thumb, not to let her imagination run wild with what she could do if he really wereall hers.
Tempted to link arms or hold hands as they walked down the street, Rachel decided keeping her hands in her pocket was the safe move. “Miller’s General Store has expanded some since you lived here. The pet shop next door went out of business about ten years ago and they took up the space. They’ve got a pretty good selection of clothing now. Both work wear and even party clothes.”
“No more having to drive to Miller’s Creek for church clothes?” he teased.
“Nope.” She slowed her steps as they drew closer to the shop. “But if you want, we can buy some of those for you too.”
For the umpteenth time since they bumped into each other, they both laughed from somewhere deep down inside and Rachel felt lighter than she’d felt in ages. All their troubles, and there were many, fell away. At least for now.
