Page 13 of Playing for Keeps
The streets on the downtown square were lit in the glow of the Christmas lights. Every shop and light pole was covered in twinkling white.
Half an hour later, they walked along the sidewalks of downtown, splitting up at the corner by the courthouse to patrol as the straggling tourists made their way back to their vehicles after the shops closed. Wearing the uniform usually meant people avoided eye contact, which made it the only time Justin could walk around without being recognized. The instinct to cower in front of people who might know him hadn’t subsided.
It wasn’t his public career that bothered him. It was his family. Chuck McKinnon left a mark on people’s lives, and it was never a good one.
A small group of women poured out of a shop. One woman hiked a toddler up on her hip as she tried and failed to soothe his cries.
“You’re not getting candy. It’s past your bedtime.” She turned to the other women. “Come on. I have to get this one home.”
One of the other women looked at Justin and gasped. Immediately, he saw the look of recognition in her eyes. The way she froze. The way her shoulders raised in excitement. He knew that look from obsessive fans.
“You’re Justin McKinnon! I heard you were in town. I saw the video too.” Her gaze slid down his frame and back up, lifting her smile with it. “You’re looking for a Christmas date.”
“Valerie!”
The blonde with long, straight hair grabbed onto her friend’s arm. “Is that Justin?”
Oh no. It was a terrible sign when strangers used only his first name. Still, he knew how to handle people who approached him.
“You’re Justin McKinnon, the baseball player,” one of the women stated. She was considerably younger than the others but had to be at least eighteen.
“I am.” What else was he supposed to say when someone he didn’t know identified him?
The woman at the back pushed past her friends to the front of the group. “I’ll be your date!”
“Thanks, but I don’t need a date. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.”
The blonde woman grabbed Justin’s arm, standing so close to him that he took a step back. “Please. I promise you’ll have the best time on our date.”
Too close. Way too close. “I’m sorry, but I’m really not looking.”
Boy, was he going to be in hot water with these women when they found out he already had someone in mind. He couldn’t find it in himself tocare when his blood pressure pounded higher and higher as the women closed in.
“No, I’ll be your date!” another exclaimed.
The few people remaining on the sidewalks turned to see what the shouting was about. The pointing started immediately.
Mayday. Mayday.
“I have to go?—”
The woman’s starry eyes said she most certainly would be following him. Shoot. The only way out was to either find a way to get away from them or issue a legal warning for harassment.
Justin turned, pulling from the blonde’s iron grip with a strong jerk. There had to be a place to hide—a store to dip into and disappear.
The bright-pink storefront of The Cakery practically flashed itself at him. The handwritten A-frame sign out front read, “Come in! There’s a cupcake calling your name.”
There most certainly was. This was either a very bad idea, or God was sending Justin a sign. He’d been looking for a chance to talk to Caroline, and maybe this was his moment to fix what he broke twelve years ago.
If anyone would help him right now, it was Caroline. She would understand, considering how they met.
4
CAROLINE
Caroline swiped the rag over the front of the display case, removing hours’ worth of sticky fingerprints and smudges. Kids couldn’t resist flattening their hands against the window and pointing at the sweet treats they wanted. Only a few cupcakes with perfectly swirled icing atop were left, arranged in neat rows in the case. She’d straightened them after the last wave of customers tore through the bakery.
Skye appeared through the door leading to the back room and straightened her pink top. The Cakery’s wispy logo covered the front of the T-shirt. “Everything is ready for tomorrow. Do you mind if I slip out? I have a mountain of laundry waiting for me.”
