by Cindi Madsen
When Heath’s name flashed on the screen, happiness pushed against the sorrow, fighting through the gloom. They’d exchanged a few texts, mostly about ideas for their float, with some flirting in between.
She answered, and Heath’s sexy voice came over the line. “I thought you’d get a kick out of the fact that I now have on more makeup than the night you left lipstick all over my face.”
Her spine stiffened. Was he calling to brag about another woman covering him in lipstick? No. That didn’t make sense.
“Honestly, I can’t believe I’m even confessing this,” he continued. “I told Sadie that she better take it to the grave. But I suppose she’d tell you anyway. You two don’t strike me as being able to keep secrets from each other.”
“Oh! The photo shoot!” Without another woman involved, her excitement pitched her voice several octaves higher. She cleared her throat, trying to play it cool way too late. “I forgot that was today. How’s it going?”
“I’m wearing makeup, that’s how it’s going.”
She could hear the sneer in his voice, and she laughed. “I want a picture.”
“You’ll have to wait for the album cover like everyone else. But I’ll sign it for you, since you’re special.”
“Gee, thanks.” Quinn glanced in her rearview mirror, contemplating backing up and making her way home. But she tended to get distracted thinking about Heath, and a wreck in the car that Chichi cared so much about wasn’t worth it. “Don’t tell me they made you shave.”
“Hell, no, and that’s definitely where I’d draw the line. Although…”
She gripped her phone tighter. “Spill it.”
“They combed some sticky crap into it so that it’s all in place. Seriously, I didn’t sign up for this.”
Quinn laughed again, picturing people around him dabbing on foundation and powder while another person combed gel into his beard. She was surprised it was long enough for that—much longer and it’d be untamed, but he kept it trimmed at the permanent scruff level. Her skin tingled at the memory of it brushing her as they kissed.
“How’s Sadie holding up?” she asked. “I know the last label she almost signed with wanted her boobs hanging out as she straddled a guitar or something racy like that.”
“I feel like Royce is going to show up and glare at me if I even comment on that, and since he’s my best reference for—”
The awkward silence hung in the air between them for a moment, and she knew he’d stopped himself short because he meant for Mountain Ridge. Sadie claimed to be neutral, but her fiancé obviously wasn’t, which would be the same as her speaking in Heath’s favor, too, as far as the town committee was concerned. Tiny pricks of worry and resentment poked at her chest and she tried to ignore them.
That’s it. Tonight I’m calling Sadie’s grandparents. If I don’t get a few extra references on my side, I’m going to lose this race at the halfway mark, and I can’t have that.
“Anyway,” Heath said. “I just…well, I was thinking about you. Between this and the garage, I haven’t had much time to work on the float.”
“No worries. I’d only feel guilty if you’d been working on it all week.” And I have enough guilt to deal with right now as it is. Not to mention the town committee’s probably been watching.
Did it make her a bad person to not want Heath to have time so that she actually still had a chance? Great. More guilt to deal with. But if Royce was vouching for Heath, she needed all the help she could get.
Ugh, this was getting as complicated as work. She shoved those thoughts away, silently chiding herself to be a bigger person. “I’m planning on being there tomorrow evening for Oliver’s music show, if you still want me to come.”
“Of course. I can’t wait. I’ll save you a spot.”
“Then I’ll practically live in the float garage until Sunday evening, at which point I’ll have to head to Utah for work.”
“I’ll be there to make sure we take food and kissing breaks.”
Now the memory of his lips on hers was back, sending warmth through her entire body. “You’re such a giver.”
“Right?” Muffled voices came over the line. “Hey, I’ve got to go. Apparently they want to get a few more shots. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” she said. And at least as far as the photo shoot went, she genuinely meant it.
…
Damn traffic. Between construction and a wreck, Quinn’s three-hour drive had turned into four. She pulled up to Hope Springs Elementary, parked in a spot that didn’t technically have white lines marking it, and then rushed into the building.
She’d texted Heath right before she’d left Casper, telling him to make sure to save her a seat. With every minute closer it’d gotten to the starting time of Oliver’s music program, the stronger her irritation at other cars had become. Ten minutes late, she pushed into the gym, where she could hear applause. She scanned the seats, worried Heath had given up on her and afraid she wouldn’t see him with the lights dimmed. But then she caught sight of the familiar black hat and the empty chair next to him.
Now it seemed silly to think she wouldn’t be able to spot him in the crowd. In a sea of parents and grandparents, the guy stood out. He had his arms crossed, and the rings on his fingers caught the tiny bit of light in the gym. Lust and a heavy dose of longing that had to do with more than just his looks twisted through her.
Light and fun, light and fun. No getting caught up. She’d had plenty of time to give herself the pep talk over the last few days. Admittedly, watching his little brother’s school program together felt a tad relationshipy, but this was Hope Springs. Usual dating rules didn’t apply.
Anyway, that’s what she told herself as she sucked in and tried to make herself as small as she could as she squeezed through the small gap between foldout chairs. Seriously, couldn’t they at least make it possible to walk through without brushing your butt in someone’s face?
Her next step landed her on someone’s foot, and she offered an apology as the music teacher announced the name of the song the children were about to perform. Finally she made it to Heath and flopped onto the open chair. “Sorry. Traffic and road construction was a bitch.”
The people in the near vicinity turned and gaped at her, their expressions heavy on the scolding side.
“I mean, it was…crappy,” she quickly amended, then looked to Heath. “What did I miss?”
The eyes that met hers were definitely blue tonight. With a hint of green. For a moment she forgot how to breathe. Then her gaze moved to his lips and she wanted to ignore the fact that they were in public and kiss him with reckless abandon. She’d daydreamed about those lips ever since the last time they’d left hers. She’d worried time apart might change the vibe between them and then they’d have an awkward, unsure period, but it took all of two seconds before he wrapped his hand around her knee and shot her a drool-inducing smile.
“Just the first song.”
Before they could say anything else, the music started up. The shrill noise of dozens of recorders cut through the air. “Ah, the lost art form of the recorder,” Quinn said. “Good to know someone’s keeping it alive.”
Heath chuckled, and her stomach did a somersault. They endured three more songs that relied heavily on the recorders. Between every one, a woman excitedly announced the titles.
Quinn leaned in. “I don’t trust anyone who purposely puts herself in a position to listen to that every day. Can you imagine?”
Heath snort-laughed, turning it into a fake cough when the people around them shot them glares. He nudged her thigh. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”
“All I’m saying is it’s suspect. I mean, Ollie sounds like an angel, obviously—if angels decided to forgo trumpets—but think of how they sounded when they first started. She’s way too excited about every song, too.”
“Is now a bad time to let you know I used to date her?” Heath whispered.
Quinn glanced at the woman again, t
aking in her bobbed brown hair and prairie skirt. So not the type she suspected Heath would go for, especially since she had to be in her late thirties. Now she trusted the woman even less, but for petty, jealous reasons that she shouldn’t feel considering the light-and-fun rule.
Heath put his fist to his mouth and smothered another laugh. “That was too easy.”
She shoved him, and he laughed harder. “I’m going to get you back for that.”
They got shushed and that only made them laugh more. Finally they managed to quell the laughter. Luckily, the next two songs involved good old-fashioned piano music and singing, a welcome relief to her ears.
They applauded with the rest of the audience when the kids bowed after their final number, and then the performers were dismissed to find their parents.
Ollie darted through the crowd and stopped in front of Heath. “Hey, now that we’re done with that, can we go practice grounders?”
Heath gestured to Quinn. “Did you see that Quinn came?”
He spared her the shortest glance ever. “Yeah. So grounders?”
Heath’s look took much longer. She could tell he was conflicted, not wanting to say no, but also taking her into account—hopefully he wanted to spend time with her as much as she wanted to with him.
“You know,” Quinn said, diving into the deeper end of the relationship pool instead of shying away, like she probably should, “I never learned how to stop grounders. And the weather’s so nice tonight, I’m thinking it’d be the perfect time to figure it out.”
Heath reached over and took her hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “Let’s go teach you two how to field, then.”
On the way out of the school, Mrs. Branson stopped Quinn. “Doris told us at quilting group about how you’re trying to restore the Mountain Ridge B and B, and we all agreed it’d be lovely to see that place up and running again. If you need any help with sewing, or quilts for the beds, we’d be happy to offer our services.”
“Thank you so much,” Quinn said, flashing the woman a huge smile. Obviously Sadie’s grandma Doris had come through in a big way—the quilting group carried a lot of pull. When she turned away from Mrs. Branson only to see Heath scowling, she tried to wipe the smug smile from her lips.
As they pushed out the door, Heath mumbled, “I should’ve told her you laughed about my dog destroying her flowers.”
He’d said it more like a joke, and she knew he wouldn’t rat her out, but real tension underlay the words.
On the steps of the school, Mr. Case, who owned the local sawmill, stopped Heath and told him he could offer him a good price on lumber for the lodge, and then Quinn had a hard time not scowling. She also wanted to step forward, let Mr. Case know she’d need a considerable amount of lumber if she got the B and B, and pledge her business if he’d offer her the same discount. Seemed too much like crossing the line on their truce, though.
Sheila, who owned the diner, interrupted the conversation and said that the B and B would bring in more business for the whole town, and then she and Mr. Case glared at each other. Several others chimed in, casting their verbal votes and arguing among themselves.
Finally she, Heath, and Ollie made it to the parking lot. For a moment the edge of contention hanging in the air made her hesitate. She almost called it a night, but she’d looked forward to seeing Heath for days, and she was determined not to let their property skirmish get in the way, even if it was proving harder than she’d expected.
“Need me to drive?” Quinn asked when she noticed Heath’s motorcycle—three of them definitely wouldn’t fit on there.
“Miss Sakata, I don’t think that’s a parking space.” Hank, the local sheriff, stood with his hand on the door handle of his truck, which was parked in the spot—clearly marked with two white lines—next to Quinn’s car.
“Really?” She made a big show of looking around. “I swore there was another white line on the other side.”
He raised a bushy eyebrow, the way he used to when he caught her and Sadie out late at night—she suspected Chichi had asked him to keep an eye out for her. The guy also had sway with the town committee, and the last thing she needed was a mark against her.
“I’ll move it and be more careful.” She shot him an extra-wide smile. Hank’s gaze moved to Heath, who gave a short nod and tugged his cap lower. Maybe she wasn’t the only one on the cop’s radar. Great, add the riot they’d nearly started as everyone exited the school and they were the town problem couple—er, problem couple of friends who occasionally kissed.
“Hurry. Get in, get in,” Quinn whispered, unlocking the doors and sliding into the driver’s seat of her Mercedes.
“Wow, this is a super-fancy car,” Ollie said, bouncing on the leather bench seat in the back. “I bet you haven’t had any kids in here ever.”
“No, actually, I haven’t. It’s my company car that I use to take clients around, so technically it’s not mine.” She glanced at Heath. “Which reminds me…” Maybe now wasn’t a good time to bring this up—it was usually best to ask for favors when the mood was happier—but she’d already started, so she charged on through with it. “You don’t happen to have an opening at the shop tomorrow? It’s only a matter time before the dent gets noticed, and I’m hoping to avoid that, if possible.”
In an attempt to lighten the mood, she added, “If not, maybe I can just find a really classy bumper sticker that’d help with business. Like, maybe one that says, ‘Caution: This car makes frequent stops at your mom’s house.’”
Ollie snorted in the backseat. Oops. That was probably an inappropriate joke to make with him in the car.
Heath cracked a smile, and then his hand moved to her knee, enveloping it in warmth that spread up her leg and settled in her core. “I’m sure your clients would find that very amusing, but if you want to go the boring route, you can bring the car into the shop first thing tomorrow, and we’ll get it fixed up.”
Hope mixed in and deepened the warmth—they could power through. They were awesome like that. “Fine, fine. I’ll go with boring and not likely to get me fired. Being a grown-up’s no fun.”
She reversed her illegally parked car and got in line with the rest of the vehicles trying to leave the school. She was about to automatically turn right toward her house and then hit the brakes. “Where exactly are we going?”
“To my place,” Heath said. “The balls and the mitts are there. Then we’ll head to the old ballpark—it’s only a few blocks away.”
Quinn made the left. She wondered if this time she’d be permitted to go inside the house. But then she reminded herself that was probably not a fun and light thing to do, either. She’d never done very well following guidelines, even if she’d been the one to set them.
“I’ll be right back,” Heath said when they got to his place, which answered her question about being allowed inside. Dang Maya. Now Quinn was thinking about how Adam had never taken her to his place. Other women had apparently come and gone in droves.
The car went dead silent when the door shut, and Quinn reached for the radio. With Heath there, talking to Oliver seemed easy enough, but she never knew what to say to kids.
“Are you Heath’s girlfriend?” Oliver asked.
The barrier of the rearview mirror made answering slightly easier, although the boy certainly started with the hard questions. “No. We’re just friends.”
“That’s what my mom says about the guys she brings home, but I’m not stupid.”
What do you say to something like that? Luckily the front door swung open and Heath came out balancing a couple of mitts, baseballs, and a bat. He got in the car and pointed out the way to a run-down baseball field. Only the metal posts remained behind home base, which was marked by a large rock—talk about an accident waiting to happen.
“Nobody slide into home, okay?” Quinn said, stepping over the rock as she pulled on the mitt Heath had given her.
“There’s no sliding in grounding balls,” Oliver said with a sigh.
> Heath reached over and gave her shoulder a light pinch. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist. “Obviously you need to learn a lot about baseball. I think we better have some private lessons later tonight. I’ll teach you about rounding the bases.” His hand slid low on her back and hooked onto her hip. Guess she’d better learn about grounding and getting people out before home plate, because already her defenses were cracking.
Of course, third base…
Heath nudged her toward the outfield. “Okay, go and stand next to Ollie.” He explained where to place the mitt and demonstrated how to put their free hand on the top to keep the ball from coming up and popping them in the face.
There’s a high chance of balls hitting me in the face? No wonder I always preferred sitting on the sidelines.
Heath tossed a baseball in the air and swung the bat. A metal clank sounded and the ball bounced across the infield, headed toward Oliver.
He stopped it as Heath had instructed and then threw the ball back to his brother, who caught it in his bare hand instead of bothering with a mitt. He tossed the ball in the air a couple of times and turned his attention to Quinn. “Ready?”
The fact that she managed to nod and was willing to even go through with this said just how much she’d do for a chance to spend more time with Heath, current foe status notwithstanding.
…
The breeze stirred Quinn’s hair around her face. She quickly swept it back and tucked it behind her ears. Then she bent down low, the way he’d shown her and Ollie. He hadn’t even tossed the ball yet and she kept flinching.
He hoped she didn’t regret agreeing to come with him, because it was one of the coolest things a girl had ever done for him. He’d been putting off Ollie all week and feeling guilty about it. He’d also spent way too much time calculating the hours until he could see Quinn again. The fact that she’d volunteered to join instead of forcing him to choose had made him want to wrap his arms around her and kiss her like they hadn’t been in the middle of a crowd of townspeople.
