A hand shot into the air. “Jenny, I heard a rumor that Adam Hamilton is moving back to town. Wouldn’t it be great if we could get him to donate some of his time?”
Excited murmuring broke out among the women.
“What exactly do you have in mind, Leisa?”
“Well, he could offer to give a few pitching lessons or—”
“Go on a date with someone,” one of the young church ladies shouted. Which earned a lot of laughs and, to Jenny’s horror, almost everyone’s vote. She cast a desperate look at her mother, whose own troubled eyes met hers in return.
“Ladies.” Jane stood and moved to her daughter’s side. “Mr. Hamilton is just getting re-settled. It might be too soon to start asking him for favors.”
“But, isn’t Jenny good friends with him?” someone on the back row asked. “She could talk to him.”
“Oh yeah,” a lady said from the front row. “Mabel said she saw the two of you driving around the other day. Surely, he wouldn’t say no to you.”
Jenny chewed on the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming. Damn small towns and their incessant need for gossip. She inhaled through her nose and tried to curb her annoyance.
Even though they were being pushy, she cared about these people. It wasn’t really them she was angry with. She was angry at the idea of needing something else from Adam. She’d worked so hard to prove she didn’t need him at all and now everything in her life seemed to be getting tangled up in him.
As she looked out at the familiar faces, whose murmurings had now turned into full-on buzzing, her head swam. What was she supposed to say? No, I won’t ask him for his help with this wonderful cause because of my pride?
“Ladies, please,” her mother said. “It’s possible that it wouldn’t be appropriate for my daughter to speak to Mr. Hamilton because it might impact their working relationship.”
Jenny laid a hand on her mother’s arm and then turned a smiling face to the crowd. “No, it won’t be a problem. I’ll speak with Mr. Hamilton and see if he’s willing to help us. But if I do this, ya’ll better be prepared to dig up a couple more biggies.” She scanned the room until she found the person she was looking for. This lady’s husband owned a boat dealership and could usually be counted on to make some sort of donation. “Susan, I’m looking at you.”
The women laughed and then broke into their smaller groups, giving Jenny a chance to duck into the kitchen. As she stood at the sink, staring out at her mother’s garden, she tried to decide how she was feeling about Adam. Torn was the only word that came to mind. A moment later, her mother appeared in the doorway with an empty tray.
“Are you okay?” She slid the silver platter onto the counter and moved over to rest a hand on Jenny’s back.
“I’m fine. I should’ve known this would happen.” She looked at her mother. “But, hey, it’s for charity, right?”
“Oh, sweetie.” She squeezed her to her side. “I know it isn’t easy for you. Nothing really has been in the last year, but you’re one of the strongest people I know.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“I mean it.” She met Jenny’s eyes with blue ones of her own. “You’ve been through things that make up most people’s nightmares and you’re still here smiling and working hard. Your father and I are as proud of you as any two parents could be.”
Jenny leaned her head on her mom’s shoulder. “I love you, Mom.”
She patted her arm. “Okay, then, well we better get out there before they get off track. The sooner we make the plans, the sooner they leave.”
And, the sooner I go have dinner with Adam.
Adam pushed away from his truck as she pulled into the parking space beside his. The headlights winked out and he rounded the front of her car to open the door.
“I see you found the place.”
“GPS is a life saver.” Her smile caused his heart rate to speed up. “You said jeans, right?”
“Jeans seemed appropriate.” He led the way inside the pizza place and laughed when she stared around at the arcade machines, bright lights and then back at him with wide eyes.
“It would seem so.”
A hostess in black pants and a red shirt led them to a table covered with a red and white checkered table cloth. “Mark, will be right with you guys.”
“It’s kind of overwhelming in here,” Jenny said over the music after Mark, a teenager with bad skin and an earring, took their drink order.
“Oh, come on. It’s fun.”
“It’s something,” she agreed, laughing. “It reminds me of that place we used to go to back in college. You know, where we played trivia.”
He was glad their old hangout came to mind. It was the reason he’d chosen the place. They needed to have some fun together. “We’re trading in trivia for Pac-Man and pinball tonight.”
“Sounds good to me.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him as she sipped from her straw. “I was always good at pinball.”
He laughed. “Yes, I remember.”
Their server reappeared at their table and flipped his order book to their ticket. “You folks know what you want?”
Adam looked at Jenny, grinned and without taking his eyes off of her said, “A large pizza with everything on it.”
As they sat and talked, the restaurant steadily filled up around them. An entire little league team filed in and took over the last few tables close to the game machines.
“Do you miss it?” Jenny asked, pulling his gaze away from the kids and back to her.
He shifted his elbows onto the table and sat up. “I do. I think I did as soon as I realized I wouldn’t be able to play anymore. I didn’t take it for granted. I knew I was lucky to be there, but I didn’t picture it ending so soon.
“Every time I stepped out onto the pitcher’s mound and smelled the grass, a feeling of accomplishment would build in my chest, knowing I’d made it and that people were proud of me, pulling for me.” He shook his head, not quite embarrassed, but surprised he’d said so much. “Do you know what I mean?”
“I think I do.” Her eyes were full of understanding as they lingered on his.
Their pizza arrived, and they dug in. When a long string of cheese landed on his chin, Jenny laughed and reached over to pull it free. The slight graze of her fingers sent a small rush through him. The combination of the meat, veggies and cheese brought back as many memories as the girl he was sharing it with.
Gesturing to the nearly empty silver pan between them, Jenny laughed, “I don’t think I’ve been this full in a long time.”
“Me, either.”
“Mr. Hamilton?”
He turned to see four of the little leaguers surrounding his chair. Two of the boys had missing teeth and all their uniforms were grass stained and smeared with dirt. Signs of a good game.
“Would you mind signing our hats?”
“Sure. No problem.” He could feel Jenny’s eyes on him as he worked his way down the line of kids. “So, did you win your game tonight?”
“It was awesome. Brooks hit a homerun in the ninth that put us on top.”
“Yeah, I did.” Brooks was one of the boys missing a couple teeth.
Adam didn’t hear a phone ring, but glanced toward Jenny when she said hello and turned in her chair to angle her body away from the table. His stomach sank, but he kept his tone friendly as he signed the last of the hats.
“You should come to one of our games sometime, Mr. Hamilton.”
“Yeah, that’d be so cool. No one would believe it.” The home run hitter bounced on his toes.
He laughed and then nodded to the boy’s parents who were watching and smiling from their own tables. “I might just do that sometime.”
“Kids,” one of the dads called, “let Mr. Hamilton finish his dinner i
n peace.”
“Thanks again, Mr. Hamilton.”
“You bet.” When he returned his attention to the table, he saw Jenny was just setting her phone back into her purse, but she no longer looked happy. Her mouth was drawn in a tight line and her relaxed posture had grown rigid. “You okay?”
“Fine,” she said, plastering on her fake smile.
He growled internally. That was the one thing he didn’t want to see from her again that night. Instead of pressing her further, he stood and reached a hand out to her. “Come on. Let’s go see if you can still kick my butt.”
It did the trick. Her true smile reappeared and she placed her soft hand into his. As she slid through the tight space between him and the table, she smirked over her shoulder. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” Then she winked and had him chasing after her.
Half an hour later, after losing three games in a row, Adam stood back and watched as Jenny hovered over the pinball machine. Determination was etched in every line of her face. This was one game he didn’t mind losing. Leaning against the wall allowed him the opportunity to watch her body at work.
The jeans she’d chosen hugged her hips, butt, and fit snugly down her legs, leaving little to his imagination. He could also admire the way her toned arms flexed and relaxed thanks to the sleeveless top she wore.
While her body was a thing of beauty, it was the way her hair was swept up in a ponytail that was causing his fingers to twitch at his sides. He longed to pull it down so he could run his hands through the long blond strands the way he’d imagined at night when he was lying in bed. He could still remember the feeling of it on his bare skin, his chest, his face, his neck.
“Bam.” Jenny slapped the sides of the machine. “Did you see that?”
Lights flashed and sounds chimed as her score climbed.
“Yeah, I saw it,” he lied. He stepped away from the wall and moved to her side.
A teenager walked behind them causing a shadow to pass over them. When the light was no longer blocked, a raised line of dark pink skin on Jenny’s neck caught Adam’s attention.
He reached out and let his finger rest just under the scar. “Is this from—”
“Yes.”
His finger trailed the length of her neck, forcing goose bumps to form along her skin. “Jenny, I . . . I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You weren’t responsible.” She stepped out of his reach and absently touched the scar. “Maybe we should get some air.”
“Sure,” was all he could manage as anger surged through him. He wished he’d been there for her, but once again he’d listened to her father and stayed away. He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes anymore. It was their time now.
When they stepped out into the night air, the sudden quiet was shocking. Neither spoke as they walked over to his truck and leaned against the back. Beside him, Jenny turned her face up to the dark sky and studied the stars, so he did the same.
The sky was full of the pinpointed lights, some brighter than others, but all peaceful. A blinking light cut across the stillness signaling a plane. As a light breeze tugged at the loose strands of her hair he turned his face to study her profile. From his place on her right, he couldn’t see the scar anymore, but he wondered if it was the only scar she still bore.
“I want you to know I was across the country when I heard about what happened.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, desperate to touch her, but knowing better. “I was halfway to the airport to fly home when I spoke to your dad and—”
Jenny pushed off from the truck and held up a hand. “When did you talk to my dad?”
“When you were in the hospital.”
The color drained from her face.
The sight of her distress twisted the knife of guilt deeper inside him. He’d carried it with him ever since he’d made the decision not to get on the plane.
“I called, and he convinced me not to come, but I should have.” He reached for her hand and held it loosely in his own. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.” He wanted to plead with her, beg her to understand how much he’d wanted to be there, but how could he? He hated himself for listening to her father.
“Don’t be mad at my dad. He didn’t let many people in. He was trying to protect me, in his own way.” She swallowed, but kept her gaze down. “What happened was hard on him. It was hard on all of us.”
Her eyes were fixated on their touching hands, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she took a deep breath and looked up at him, a familiar strength showing in the deep pools of blue. “There was nothing you could’ve done, Adam.”
“I know, but I care about you and you must’ve been so scared. When I think about what could’ve happened . . .”
“But, it didn’t.” She released his hand and touched his face. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
He reached up and laid his hand over hers. “That’s easier said than done.”
“You sound like Spencer.” She let her hand drop back to her side and took a step toward her car. “He didn’t leave Sam’s side for a month after everything that happened.”
Adam’s eyes widened. “It was Sam the guy was after?”
“Yeah, but luckily Spencer showed up at her place and then the cops. Now, we’re all just trying to put it behind us and focus on the wedding.”
“Right. Thank God for Spencer.” Relief blossomed in the back of his mind and he let go of some of his anger, convinced, finally, that Jenny was all right. “I still can’t believe my old buddy, Spence, that SOB, is getting married. I never thought I’d live to see the day.”
“You and everybody else.” Jenny laughed. “Thanks for the pizza, but I’d better get home. I have a silent auction to plan. Oh, that reminds me. How would you feel about being one of our silent auction prizes?”
“Um.” He rocked back on his heels. “How so?”
Suddenly, Jenny seemed shy and her face scrunched up on one side. “You’d be going on a date with the highest bidder.”
He refrained from smirking. “I feel like a piece of man meat over here.”
“It wasn’t my idea. I swear.”
He rubbed his beard a minute as though pondering his answer. “Yeah, okay. For you, Jenny, anything.” He didn’t miss her slight blush even though she grinned to play it off.
“Okay then. Well, I really have to go.” She climbed into her car and rolled the window down. “I have this pain-in-the-neck client that just won’t pick a house.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He made a move like he was about to kick her car. “Get out of here.”
As she pulled away, her laughter rang in his ears, igniting not only his heart, but also his hope for the future.
Chapter 8
Jenny raised her fists in front of her face, stepped off with her left foot and high-kicked the heavy bag dangling on a chain with her right.
“Nice power. Again,” her trainer moved down the line.
Gritting her teeth, she kicked it again and again, pausing only to wipe the sweat from her forehead. She could hear Sam’s grunts as she worked her own bag beside her. They’d come a long way in a year.
After they’d each had time to heal physically, Jenny talked Sam into signing up for self-defense and kickboxing. During their first self-defense class, Sam had been too nervous to do much of anything, but their instructor was an ex-Marine and seemed to realize who needed what kind of push.
Before long, Sam found her fight and not only took to the mat, but took the instructor down. Jenny had taken to it faster, still fueled by her anger. Neither wanted to feel like a victim, ever again, and the class was the first step.
Jenny also bought herself a new car; specifically, one without a trunk. She rolled her shoulders and pushed past the feeling of claustrophobia trying to close in around her. Shifting
her weight from one foot to the other, she prepared to go at the bag again. Focusing on the blue leather material, her mind switched between Adam’s face and James’ face being taped to the bag. Although in truth, she was angriest with herself. If she hadn’t acted like a child and then bet dinner with Adam on a hand of cards, James wouldn’t be mad at her now.
She thought about what he’d said on the phone the night before as she punched the bag, first with her right hand and then with her left. Between his accusations and her defensiveness, the call hadn’t gone well. Trying to explain that Adam wasn’t only a client, but that she was meeting with him about the silent auction hadn’t lessened James’ annoyance. He didn’t believe their dinner was necessary to achieve Adam’s participation any more than she did. And, she had no intention of telling him about the card game. Or, the way she’d felt when Adam touched her throat.
There’d been an excitement no other man had been able to rile in her with a hundred touches. Guilt twisted in her stomach so she reared back, punched the bag and then spun around into a kick.
“Hey,” Sam said panting, “what’d that bag do to you?”
Jenny hopped from foot to foot and jabbed one last time, the fight fading within her. What she needed was time away from Adam to sort out her feelings and get her head on straight. Being around him made things too confusing. And, staying mad at him was impossible. “It isn’t so much the bag’s fault as all of mankind. Emphasis on man.”
Running Home (Warm Springs Trilogy Book 2) Page 7
