Page 24 of Small Town Frenzy
A round of applause drowns out the rest of her words, so we take the opportunity to hand the checks to the teams.
When everyone disperses, Savvy runs and jumps into Blake’s arms. Since we won, I guess it’s going to be a goodnight after all. After thanking Coach Barth and the players again, I head back toward the tunnel.
He doesn’t say anything yet and isn’t next to me to see, but I can feel his presence behind me. So I say, “Thanks for the homer.”
“My pleasure.” His voice is deep, cockiness ever-present in his tone. His words shouldn’t, but for some odd reason, having confirmation that he’s near makes me smile.
I keep walking, but then stop just on the edge of the grass. I don’t turn back but stand there, allowing everyone else to pass. He doesn’t—I knew he wouldn’t. I don’t have to be a player to be cocky like he is. A thrill flows through my veins like butter on hot pancakes. Satisfyingly predictable. He’s exactly who I thought he was.
When the scuffle of cleats and the chatter of the others leaves me in silence, I turn around. My eyes connect with his, and that smile he retrieved from me grows. Like my joy is contagious, Greene’s grin looks suspiciously like I planted it on his face myself. “If you’re not careful, I might get the wrong idea.”
“Wrong ideas are sometimes the most fun.”
“Hmm.”He’s not wrong . . .Tossing my arms loosely from my sides, I ask, “What do you want, Twenty-two?”
That smile turns on a dime, a smirk replacing it in point two seconds. With his baseball glove wrapped around his other hand, he takes a step closer. My breathing shallows as he keeps his eyes locked on mine like the prey he’s ready to devour. “So many things come to mind, Little Chirp. None of them are appropriate for my boss.”
My lips part, my lungs desperate for air. I picked this man out of a crowd four years ago. I’m feeling that same draw to him now. But I exhale and take a step back, needing the space and clarity without him causing my hormones togo haywire. “Probably best to keep them to yourself then.” I turn to walk away because it’s whatIneed right now. Otherwise, I’m going to end up in bed with this guy.Again.
“Hey, Cricket?”
I stop at the sound of my name, having never felt a pull to the very sound of it before. I hate that I like the way it rolls off his tongue with such ownership. Looking back at him, I ask, “What?”
“The fun’s all over.” A smile has lifted his cheeks but not enough. If he’s not careful, I might think he’s being genuine. “You going to miss seeing me come tomorrow?”
I grin because, annoyingly, the guy can be kind of charming when he wants to be. Also, that he’d think I’d miss him is just funny. “In your dreams, Greene.” I start walking away again.
“If that ain’t the truth.”
This time, I don’t turn back, and I don’t slow down, my pace picking up before I feel the need to counter again by flirting with the enemy.
When I enter the parking lot, Blake’s pulled up in his truck. With the window down, Savvy leans over from the passenger’s side, and says, “Let’s go. I’m starving.”
I get in the back seat of the King Cab and shut the door. Sitting back, I see Griffin’s build shadowed in the tunnel as he walks toward us. I slide down but spy on him. “Me too,” I reply, but I’m not talking about pizza.
CHAPTER 10
Cricket
The pizzeria is buzzing.Players, family, friends, and even the stodgy ole operations manager have shown up in support of all who participated. And since I’m the OM, I’m picking up the tab for the pizzas. I’ll decline any anointing of sainthood since the restaurant gave us a hell of a deal tonight. They mentioned our dedication to helping both high schools with the fundraiser, which was nice.
Chatter and laughter ring through the air, and indecipherable music we can barely hear plays in the background. After letting the last of my second beer slide down my throat, I lower the empty pint glass to the table and giggle. It’s been too good a day. My mood can’t be ruined. “Do you have money for the jukebox?” I ask my cousin.
She sets a large custom coin down on the table. “It takes tokens. Play something good.”
I push up from the table. “I’m going to walk off the pizza and beer I devoured,” I say, rubbing my stomach. Although Iknow it won’t do much to make me feel less stuffed, I take the long way, lapping the place. The red-and-white checkered tabletops are reminiscent of New York pizza joints. The red glass candle holders add a romantic glow, although daylight still sneaks in the large front window. A few velvet paintings hanging on the wall are just a classic touch to complete the vibe they seem to be going for. It’s nothing like anything Texas and right out of the movies or an old Italian restaurant where I once dined when visiting Rome years ago. I move to the outside of the center tables and follow a path along a row of booths to the jukebox. They’re a charming touch, giving the place a vintage flair as if this joint has been around forever instead of officially opening its doors in the past few weeks.
Savvy said this is the second time she’s come out to Peachtree Pass in the past week to eat here. I can see the appeal—low-key, casual dining, good food, and comfortable atmosphere. I should bring Jacob. We don’t get out of Dover County as much as I like. This would be a fun little dinner adventure for us.
I don’t recognize most of the songs on the playlist, so I drop my token into the slot and punch in a random code, taking a chance. The Flamingos scroll across the small screen on the inside just as a song begins to play. I lean my hands against the glass and smile when I hear the harmonizing of what sounds like a song from the 1950s, conjuring images of couples slow dancing.
What happened to romance?It seems to have disappeared from my life entirely unless it’s in a book I’m reading, or I catch a movie on TV. I grin, remembering how much I used to eat up romance, even if it was only a crumb tossed my way. If some guy I found attractive gave me attention, I was agoner. Getting hurt too many times taught me a hard lesson. Now, I can handle my own life and thrive in my independence. I don’t need a man, but it would be nice to have a partner. Savvy has a point. Being a single mom doesn’t mean I can’t be an individual with my own needs as well. Or does it? I have no role model to know the difference.
“I’m starting to think you really are stalking me.” The deep, dulcet tone wraps around my shoulders like his strong arms once did. The heat between us electrifies when his arm brushes against mine. Even his words aren’t so irritating after a few beers. Damn him.When did I turn into a fan of his? No way can I let him win. But is it so bad to find him attractive despite his usual demeanor? Sue me for noticing.
I couldn’t have timed his entrance better to snap me back to reality despite the creature comforts I briefly felt. Keeping my eyes on the pastel lights flashing across the top of the jukebox, I reply, “Or maybe it’syoustalkingmesince I was here first.”
“True.” He comes around, leaning against the side of the machine, acting way too comfortable, like we’re old friends. I’m not even allowing myself to look into those eyes of his. I know I’ll crumble under the intensity. “But it’s not so far-fetched to find me in my own family’s restaurant.”
