by Hart, Taylor
“Is one date really enough to prove that she prefers average guys versus a fine specimen like Shawn?” Graydon asked, breaking into the discussion. “The only way to prove the point would be for Mac to take her out on multiple dates. He can initiate the first, but she needs to be the one to ask him out on a second date. Then we’ll see where it leads from there during our stay.”
“There’s no way that’s going to happen,” Shawn sneered.
“It’s good you think that, because to make it interesting, I propose you pay him $500 for each successful date. Consider it part of my bachelor-party entertainment package.” Graydon folded his arms, looking between the two of them.
Mac locked eyes with Shawn. The guy was so cocky, it would be nice to knock him down a few notches. But Mac had something to prove. If she said yes, he would prove his point that women preferred respect over muscles, and he’d enjoy the bonus of a little extra cash. If she said no, well, he was already dealing with the Three Amigos and their stupidity for the week. After the wedding, he’d never have to see them again.
“Deal.” He stuck out his hand.
“I am going to enjoy watching you crash and burn,” Shawn said, taking Mac’s hand in a viselike grip. “Let’s go check out the hot tub, guys.”
Graydon shook his head as the Three Amigos sauntered away. “Well, this is certainly going to make our week interesting.”
Mac groaned. “I don’t get how they’re your friends. And seriously, why are we on this trip with them?”
“We were all on the same college team, working our butts off and praying to get drafted. I hate to say it, but when I went pro, I let the money and fame go to my head for a while. Then I got a lot of sense knocked into me when my last injury ended up needing multiple surgeries, impairing my ability to play. It was a huge wake-up call. I took an early retirement and changed my life around. It sucked at the time, but it all brought me to Rachel, and I can’t imagine living life without her. But looking at Shawn, Chris, and Brighton, I can easily see the life I could be living had things not turned that direction.”
“If your lives are so different, why are we wasting our time putting up with them?”
Mac wheezed when Graydon slapped him on the back. Man, that guy was strong.
“Nothing scares an athlete more than seeing a buddy injured and stuck in a hospital bed. A lot of my teammates sent text messages but stayed away. We were all scattered across the country on different teams, but those three guys flew in and made sure I was doing physical therapy, kicking my butt as needed. When people show up during your darkest days, that makes them your friends for life—no matter how differently we choose to live it.”
Mac cringed. “Well, dang. I guess I have to like them now too.”
“Nah, the rivalry is kind of fun from my perspective. And seriously, Shawn has a big mouth. I sure hope your wooing powers are up for the challenge.”
Mac tapped his fingers on the shiny bar. He shifted his attention to the woman on the lounge chair. What would be the best way to approach her?
The bartender snapped his towel against his leg. “Well, mate. You can never go wrong with offering a lady a refreshing beverage.”
“What do you have that’s non-alcoholic?”
“I can whip up a smoothie, flavored sodas or lemonades, or make a virgin strawberry daiquiri or pina colada.”
“How about strawberry lemonade? Something classic for a classy lady,” Mac decided.
“Coming right up, mate. Here’s a pen and paper, if you’d like to send a note along.”
Mac twirled the pen through his fingers. “What to say?”
“It can’t be cheesy. She saw right through Shawn’s pickup lines,” Graydon reminded him.
“Something sincere then.” Something the opposite of Shawn. And just like that, Mac knew what to write. If it didn’t appeal to her, well, then he’d deal with Shawn’s jubilee. He scrawled his note on the scrap of paper, then passed it over to the bartender. The lemonade and note both went on the tray, then off to be delivered. Mac forced his eyes away, but every few seconds, he glanced over, hoping to catch her reaction.
“G’day, miss.”
Penny looked up, blinking to transition from the tense murder-mystery scene to the Aussie waiter standing beside her with a drink on his tray. She smiled and greeted him kindly. “I’m sorry, I haven’t ordered anything.”
“This strawberry lemonade is from the gentleman seated at the bar.”
“Oh, goodness!” She set her book aside to accept the frosty drink, a napkin, and a folded piece of paper. “Please send my thanks to the gentleman.”
The waiter nodded before taking his leave. She took a sip of the cool, sweet lemonade, realizing that she was quite parched. She had been caught up in the detective’s search for clues and had forgotten to drink the water she brought with her. She fingered the folded note, then flipped it open to see tiny chicken-scratch handwriting.
I hope this builds some good will for men in general. We’re not all dunderheads.
Penny smiled and sipped the strawberry lemonade. He got bonus points for the non-alcoholic beverage and for the use of the word dunderheads. She caught his attention and motioned for him to join her.
As the mystery man crossed the pool deck, she realized he was quite dashing and much taller than she had imagined. His smile was kind as he approached.
“Is it okay if I join?” He motioned to the lounge chair next to hers.
“Of course,” she replied. He sat on the side so he was facing her. She shifted into a position to chat with him. “Thanks for the lemonade.”
“You’re welcome. It was the least I could do after witnessing that unfortunate encounter. By the way, I’m Mac.”
She accepted his handshake, her soft skin sliding across his rough palms, sending a delightful shiver through her. “Penny,” she said, holding his hand a few more seconds before their clasp slid apart. She was intrigued by his light-brown eyes and the copper flecks in them. He was fit, but not overly buff. His dark-brown hair was cropped short on the sides with wavy curls on the top that made her fingers itch to sink into it. “So, not all men are dunderheads, you say?”
“I have to admit, those particular dunderheads are here to celebrate a mutual friend’s bachelor party. I hadn’t met them before today, but the sole reason I was invited was to keep them out of trouble. I thought that was going to entail nixing any unsavory ventures. I didn’t expect it to extend to a simple outing at the pool. I promise, the rest of us are quite nice.”
Penny swirled the straw around in her drink, making the ice clink against the sides. “I’m not sure I would have been brave enough to take on that responsibility.”
He held up his hands in defense. “Believe me, had I fully understood what I was signing up for, I might’ve stayed home.”
She tilted her head, curious about this man who seemed quite genuine. “Where is home?”
“Crystal Creek, Kansas. It’s a small suburb on the outside edges of where Kansas City meets country.”
She could picture him in fitted jeans and cowboy boots. In fact, the imagery made her feel a bit warmer than she could give the sunshine credit for. “Are you more cowboy or city boy?”
“I’m more of a mix of a suburbs and a country kind of guy. I love all the conveniences the burbs offer, and my work is there. But I spend my spare time at farmers’ markets, hiking, canoeing, that kind of stuff. How about you? Country or city?”
“Beach,” she replied. “I work for Wessex Resorts, mostly in accounting and reports, but I do get to travel to the resorts from time to time.”
“Is that what brought you to Florida?”
“I actually grew up near here,” she said. Very near, as her family villa was on the same property. “I’ve been gone, doing business training and the like for a new resort that opened a few months ago. Now I’m here to take a break and visit family.”
“Does staying at one of the resorts make it difficult to separate work from d
own time?”
He got right to the crux of her current situation. “It definitely blurs the lines. This trip is murkier than others. I’m supposed to be checking out the resort activities and local recommended hot spots so I can send a report back to the main office. They’re considering me for a new position.”
“That’s exciting. Are any restaurants on that list? Perhaps I could buy you dinner, and you can check off one of the items on your to-do list.”
She flushed. Even though this was exactly what she hoped for, she hadn’t expected the giddy fluttering in her chest as well. “I’d like that.”
They settled on a time to meet the next evening, then Mac went back to his group. With her mission accomplished, she gathered her items. Perhaps she’d treat herself to a massage at the resort spa. She couldn’t stop the smile of satisfaction. Things were going according to plan.
Day Three
“Sweet Home Alabama” played in the background as Mac took in the surroundings of the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company. Fisherman’s wharf decor competed with prominently displayed Forrest Gump movie memorabilia. The restaurant had an overall cheerful flair, which was also reflected in his dinner companion. He had been nervous about meeting Penny for dinner. First dates tended to be awkward in the best of circumstances. Thankfully, Penny turned out to be one of those rare people whom he connected with easily. After they ordered, their conversation turned to their favorite childhood television shows and movies.
“Your food will be here in a minute, folks,” Tracy, the waitress, said when she stopped at their table. “But first, a little trivia. Who thinks they know the movie better?”
“It’s a total chick flick. So, I’m sure I’ll kick his butt,” Penny said as she pushed her pale-blond hair over her shoulder. “No offense, Mac.”
“None taken,” he said, relaxing back into the cushioned booth. He folded his arms across his chest. While Fred Savage had a grandpa who read him The Princess Bride when he was sick, Mac’s mom always put on Forrest Gump. She considered it to be both educational and entertaining.
The waitress rubbed her hands together. “Alright, let’s get started off with an easy question. What city and state was Forrest from?”
“Greenbow, Alabama,” Penny answered right away.
Mac cocked an eyebrow. “Of course, that’s an easy one since it’s right there,” he said, pointing to the Run, Forrest, Run license plate on their table.
She leaned forward, smiling confidently. “A point is a point, which means I have one and you have none.”
“For the moment,” he said, liking her self-confidence. He nodded in the waitress’s direction for the next question.
“What did Forrest name all of his shrimp boats?”
“Jenny,” he said, before the waitress could finish the sentence.
“No fair! She wasn’t done asking the question.” Penny narrowed her stormy blue eyes. “Are you a cheater, Mac?”
“Are you a sore loser, Penny?” he countered.
She leaned forward, thumping her hand on the table. “I’m not a loser yet.”
The waitress looked relieved to see the food coming. “We have enough time for one last question. What was the name of Forrest’s dog: Lucky, Buddy, or Rocky?”
“Buddy,” Penny said confidently.
The waitress bit her lip. “It wasn’t Buddy.”
Penny’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Then it must have been Lucky.”
“That’s not it either.”
“Well, that’s not fair. Now you know the answer,” Penny complained.
The waitress turned to Mac. He sat back, relaxed and confident. “Of course I know the answer. Forrest didn’t have a dog.”
The waitress smiled and nodded. “It was a trick question. You win,” she said, serving their meals. “If you need anything, flip the license plate over to Stop, Forrest, Stop, and someone will grab me. Enjoy!”
Mac squeezed a slice of lemon over the shrimp as Penny scowled at him. He nodded at her dinner. “A taste of that might wipe the sour expression off your face.”
Penny tapped a straw on the table to break through the wrapper. He tried to dodge when she blew on the end, but the wrapper nailed him in the center of his chest. Her laugh was light, bringing the carefree mood back to their date. Carefree. That was something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Now I feel better,” she said, then took a bite of her entree. Her eyelids drifted closed, and the most sensual mmm hummed from her. “This lobster sauce is amazing.”
Her eyes were all soft and dreamy as they met his. He imagined that was what she’d look like after being thoroughly kissed. The thought of evoking that kind of emotion sent a warm zing through his chest.
“How’s your shrimp po’ boy?” she asked, breaking through his rush of emotions.
Instead of responding and risk sounding like a twitterpated schoolboy, he took a big bite of the flaky baguette. He concentrated on the flavors and combined textures of the breaded-shrimp sandwich.
“I’ve never had anything like it,” he said. A feeling of calm returned as he focused on the food. “The shrimp has the potential to really dry out the sandwich or make it gummy, but it’s very crispy and crunchy. The added lettuce, tomato, and squeeze of lemon give it a really nice, fresh flavor.”
“You sound like a food critic.” She tilted her head, observing his reaction. “You’re pretty cute when you blush.”
He cleared his throat, not wanting to let his voice crack and embarrass him further. “I actually attended culinary school, so I’m a bit of a food nut.”
“Really? That’s fascinating! Do you work at a restaurant?”
“Not right now.” He pushed at his fries before selecting one and swirling it in some ketchup. He didn’t want to go into his past failures. “I actually have a small ice-cream business. I create high-end twists on flavors and sell them to catering companies and restaurants, and at the local farmers’ market. Eventually I’d like to open an ice-cream shop.”
Her eyes were bright and intrigued. “What are some of your popular flavors?”
“It changes with the seasons. Right now, the Crystal Creek community is ready for spring to make a permanent appearance. I’ve been getting a lot of requests for anything with lavender, rose, or coconut.”
“I’m surprised chocolate isn’t on the list.” Penny shifted on her side of the booth, reaching for her soda.
“You can buy chocolate ice cream anywhere. I like to focus on fresh new flavor combinations you can’t find in the grocery store aisle.”
“You don’t do chocolate at all?”
“I took two special requests for weddings last year. One was a dark chocolate with ribbons of orange marmalade. The other had swirls of dark, milk, and white chocolate combined together.”
She pressed her fingers to her mouth as she finished swallowing a bite. “You just totally ruined dessert. No way does anything on their menu look good now.” She smiled, then shifted the conversation in a new direction. “What did you and your friends do today?”
“We drove down to Orlando and checked out Universal.”
“Ooh, the wonders of Hogwarts. Did you buy a wand?”
“I got some Harry Potter stuff for my nieces and nephews, but we spent most of our time around the Hulk, Spiderman, and Kong rides.”
“No Dr. Seuss?”
Mac laughed heartily. “Ah man, can you imagine a bunch of grown men on the kiddy rides? That would have been epic. No, we walked through on our way to other attractions, but that was it. How about you? What were you up to?”
“Well, while you were screaming like a little kid on roller coasters, I attended the resort’s Random Acts of Kindness activity.”
“My niece’s school has a Random Acts of Kindness club. They meet every week and do all sorts of projects. What did your group do?”
He loved how Penny’s hands became animated as she described the old church turned into a food pantry for the community. She talked about sorting
through a dozen pallets filled with bulk boxes of frozen food, then repackaging them into family-sized portions. “It took less than three hours, and our group of eighteen people filled food orders for almost fifty families.”
“Isn’t it amazing how a small group can make such a big impact?”
“It is,” she replied, turning her glass in circles on the table. “What are your plans for the next few days?”
“We’re going into Daytona tomorrow. We’re spending the day with Kyle Larson’s crew for some race-car driving lessons.”
“Seriously?” Penny asked, her voice doing that high-pitched thing that only females seemed able to master. “It’s practically impossible to make those kinds of arrangements.”
He flushed, embarrassed once again. He should have said they were going to tour the museum or something. He was an idiot. “When more than half the guys in your group are pro athletes, they tend to have connections that only the rich and famous are capable of securing. It’s kind of surreal spending time with them, you know?”
“In what way?” she asked.
“They don’t get what it’s like to be normal, like me and you. People with day jobs and bills and responsibilities. They have unrealistic expectations because they’re used to their current lifestyle.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, Graydon is the exception, but the rest of the group is full of rich-people drama.”
Penny propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it too much. That can be frustrating. What else do you have planned? More big stuff?”
“Thankfully the rest of the trip is pretty typical guy-vacation stuff. We’re planning to hit the Slingshot on the boardwalk, do the canoe run at Juniper Springs, and maybe drive down to Cocoa Beach and hit the Kennedy Space Center.”
“Juniper Springs is on my list too, as well as St. Augustine and the local flea market. I heard there’s an amazing vendor there called the Pickle Man. He’s supposed to have thirty different flavors you can sample.”
“Ah man, pickles. That would be awesome,” he said, fishing for an invitation.
