Page 8 of Chance

When she was finished, he offered her a handkerchief from his pocket. She took it, wiping her mouth clean. Tears streaked down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

All his old feelings for her crept up. She looked so young and vulnerable. “It’s fine.” He held onto her shoulder and gently walked her back to the little chair. “Nothing to be sorry about. Are you okay?”

She sat and then sucked in a long breath. “Bad food, I think.”

The server returned with some water and, to Chance’s delight, some crackers. “Here you go,” he said. Chance pulled his wallet out, but the server waved him off. “It’s okay.”

Chance handed him a five-dollar bill. “Then for you. Thank you.”

The server looked at Kelly. “I guess that coffee didn’t sit well? Hope you feel better.”

All she’d had was coffee? Hmm. That didn’t make sense that she’d barf it up.

She took a napkin and wiped her face, then sipped the water. “Thank you. Sorry.”

Chance didn’t know what to do, but an upset stomach usually did better with some salt. He offered her a cracker.

She reached for it, meeting his eyes.

He had forgotten her cat eyes. Green with flecks of gold. Almond-shaped. Gosh, the woman was gorgeous. Even after throwing up, her cheeks were flushed and hollowed in a way that made her look like a runway model. No. He wouldn’t think about that. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

She nibbled on the cracker. Maybe it was just from throwing up, but her eyes were misty. “I’m okay. Must be food poisoning. I had tacos from a taco truck last night. I’m just sensitive.” She let out a light chuckle, but Chance could tell she was embarrassed. “This is not how I thought I’d ever run into you. This isn’t really the romantic version of running into your past love. You look completely different, and I just barfed in a trashcan.”

It wasn’t lost on him that she’d called him her past love. “Don’t worry about it.”

She pointed her partially eaten cracker at him. “Though I did see you at Grandma’s funeral, even if we didn’t talk.”

Ouch. He remembered that day. He’d wanted to talk to Kelly, but it just never felt like a good time. Especially not with Trinity on his arm. “Sorry about that.”

She waved a hand. “It’s fine. Really. I mean, our past is my fault, right?”

He wasn’t prepared for this candid conversation, and he couldn’t tell if she was being real about it or sarcastic.

“Please, ignore me.” She took a sip, then shook her head. “I’m just feeling off today, that’s all.”

On impulse, he smiled. In some ways, it felt natural for her to be telling him she was off. She’d always had this thing about off days or on days, creative days or noncreative days.

He blinked and tried to focus. “Uh. So what are you doing here, again?”

Chapter 6

“What are you doing here?” Kelly asked, countering Chance’s question with her own. The water and crackers were helping, despite the fact that her puking was a further sign that she might be pregnant.

He cocked an eyebrow. “You first.”

As if they had been transported back in time, she found herself wagging her finger in his face. “No way. You first.”

Chance was good at getting answers out of people and never having to answer back. Over the years, she’d often reflected that he would make a great sheriff because he had a knack for getting people to talk.

“No, you just threw up and I got you crackers. I think you owe me answers first.”

She laughed. “Whatever. I don’t owe you anything. Plus, when I saw you at Grandma’s funeral, you ignored me. So I’d say you owe me.”

He shook his head. “Ignored you?” He sputtered out a grunt. “I don’t think that’s how it happened.”

“But, you’re not the judge.”

“In this situation, I’m the one who helped you, so you talk first.”

---