“I need help,” he blurted as he started piling all his bags in the cab of his truck.
“What’s wrong?” Before Kurt could answer, Ace started firing off more questions. “You got a problem with Sam? Or the house? Or is it your dad? Do you need me to stop by your dad’s house?”
Kurt exhaled as the muscles in his neck slowly eased. The rapid-fire questions gave him a new perspective that he had needed. “No, it’s nothing like that.” Gathering his courage, he blurted. “The thing is … I think I’ve got a date.”
“You’re callin’ because you got yourself a date?” His confusion was so strong that Kurt could practically see his best friend’s dark eyes shut in that pained way he adopted when something hit him off guard. “Kurt, you know it’s Friday night, don’t you? We’re tailgating right now.”
Of course he was. Unless there was a real good reason, everyone in town tailgated in various parking lots around town then went to the game. And that game would be the high school game. Where he and Ace had their share of glory days and where half the supper crowd at the diner still talked about from time to time.
“I already feel like a loser for calling you about this. You don’t need to make it worse.”
Ace chuckled. “What’s going on? Do you need tips on how to get to first base or something? ’Cause I had that down pat by the time I was thirteen at Krissy Miller’s bonfire.”
Kurt shifted as he stared at a family walking to a minivan two parking spaces over. “I’m going to ignore that because I don’t have time for your jokes. I’ve got to be at her house in an hour. She’s cooking me supper.”
“Sorry. What do you need?”
“I need you tell me if I’m making a big mistake. This gal is great. Sexy and sweet.” Thinking of some of the comments Sam had made about her, he drummed his fingers on his steering wheel. “She’s smart, too. And kind of classy.”
“What’s the problem, then?”
“She’s also Sam’s teacher. Am I breaking some kind of teacher-parent dating rule?”
“I doubt it. I mean you’re not Sam’s dad.”
“I know. But I’m his guardian.”
“She knows this, right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Then don’t worry about it. Or ask her if it’s an issue. She’ll tell you. Teachers know about that stuff. They have to.”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
“I know I am.” He paused. “So, Sam’s okay with it? He doesn’t care that you got the hots for his teacher?”
“He doesn’t know about it.”
Ace laughed. “Well, there you go. Are you going to tell him?”
“Of course I am.” Of course, Sam’s reaction had been the last thing on his mind when he’d been talking to Emily at the store.
“Then it sounds like you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Pulling out of his parking space, he headed back down the windy two-lane road to his house. Hearing Ace’s matter-of-fact tone eased his mind and underlined how he really didn’t have anyone in Bridgeport who he could count as a good friend.
Just as quickly, he felt like dunking his head in cold water or something. Anything to gain some perspective. He was a man, not an insecure woman. What was he doing, thinking about how he needed some good friends to hear all about his insecurities?
“Hey, buddy, you still there?”
“Yeah. I was just sitting here thinking that I shouldn’t have been calling you to whine like this. Sorry.”
“No problem. It’s good to hear your voice.”
“Same.”
“Hey, I was thinking maybe I’d come up your way soon,” he said with a new thread of tension in his voice. “I need a break from this place. You got anything going on in the next couple of weeks?”
“Beyond Sam and work? No.”
“’Kay. Maybe I’ll head up next weekend.”
That soon? Something was definitely going on with him. But figuring that out would have to wait for another day. “Plan on it.”
“I’ll call in a couple of days. If things are going hot and heavy with your teacher, I can postpone it.”
“Yeah. That ain’t going to happen.”
“I’m just saying that if you get too busy and don’t want company, just let me know.”
“I will, but there won’t be anything going on. Thanks for calming me down.”
“Anytime.”
After he clicked off, Kurt pulled up in the driveway, grabbed his groceries, and hurriedly put them away. After tossing the six-pack in the freezer to get nice and cold, he headed to the shower for the second time in three hours.
Yeah, all that fussing might be unnecessary. But something inside told him that this night just might be the start of something good.
And if that was the case? Well, he sure wasn’t about to ruin it.
CHAPTER 6
“It’s not whether you won or lost, but how many bad-beat stories you were able to tell.”
—Grantland Rice
The doorbell chimed just as Emily finished brushing out her hair. Looking at her reflection, she hesitated. She’d been planning to pull it back into a ponytail, but now there was no time to do that.
She’d have to let it rest against her shoulders and back. Just as she was going to have to let her indecision about wearing skinny dark jeans and a flowy tank top go, too.
After checking that it was definitely Kurt, she opened the door in a rush. “Hi! Sorry, I was double-checking something.” Then she tried desperately not to notice how good he looked in faded jeans and a moss-colored T-shirt. “Come on in.”
As he followed her to her kitchen, a six-pack of beer bottles in his hand, he looked around her condo with interest. “Your place is real nice.”
“Thank you. It’s a work in progress. I just bought it last year.”
He ran a hand along one of her kitchen’s granite countertops. They had been her parents’ Christmas gift to her. “You did a good job on it. These are pretty.”
Pleased by the compliment, she smiled back at him. “Thanks.” Running her hands on her jeans, she said, “I’ll take one of those beers. And then you can have a seat while I cook.”
“I can do that.” After he popped the top on both of their bottles he lifted his in salute. “Cheers.”
“Cheers to you.” After she took a sip, she smiled. “This tastes perfect. Especially on a Friday night.”
“Did you have a hard week?”
Emily took a minute to slice the chicken breasts into thin medallions while she thought about how to answer. “Not really. It’s just the normal give-and-take of dealing with teenagers and a demanding principal.”
“I don’t know how you do it. Those kids would drive me crazy.”
“I love working with teenagers. Being with them is my favorite part of the job. It’s everything else that’s exhausting.”
“Like those demanding principals?”
“Yes. And the other people on staff.” Getting out a fresh knife, she sliced mushrooms and onions. After seeing that he looked interested and not bored, she continued. “Not everyone is always on the same page. Usually I try to get along with everyone, but that isn’t always easy to do.”
“I guess that’s the case with any big company. Any time you get a lot of people together, you’re gonna have problems.”
“Is that what you did in West Virginia? You worked with a lot of people?”
He smiled. “No. My, uh, father has told me stories his whole life about office politics. Even though his weren’t actually in an office building. He worked at the coal mine.”
“Wow. I can’t imagine what a hard job that is.”
“Imagine it being a whole lot harder than you can imagine.”
“It’s work to be proud of.” Hard work that made her wish she hadn’t
just complained about working at a suburban high school.
“For sure. But even so, I knew before I was sixteen that I wasn’t cut out for that.”
“I think I would miss being in the daylight.”
“I would miss a lot of things.” He shrugged. “It’s hard, but my father never complained about it. It’s what he knew. And his dad and grandfather, too.”
“So your family has worked the mines for generations.”
He nodded. “It used to be a pretty good job, believe it or not. But now, with all the cutbacks and changes in energy …” His voice drifted off.
“There’s not the future in it that there used to be,” Emily said, studying his expression. Kurt looked reflective … and more than a little sad, too. “Is that why you moved?”
“For me? No. If it was up to me, I probably would have stayed. I don’t need a lot. I moved for Sam.”
Emily swallowed. “I don’t mean to turn this into another school discussion, but for what it’s worth, I think you made the right call. Sam is really smart, just like you said in the meeting. He’s going to do well in college.”
“I hope so.” After he took another sip of beer, he motioned to her hands, which had been motionless for the last five minutes, she realized in dismay. “Can I help you?”
“Why? So you don’t eat at midnight?” she joked.
“I’m not opposed to that, but me being here so late might cause talk.”
Emily stilled, unsure whether he was joking or not. But when she caught his gaze, she noticed that while his lips were set in a firm line, there was a warmth in his eyes. An answering warmth pooled inside her.
Before she started doing something like blush, she held up a knife. “In that case, come over here and chop a cucumber for the salad.”
“Yes, ma’am.” While she turned on the burner and started heating up oil, he washed his hands. “So, it just occurred to me that I don’t know all that much about you. Are you from here?”
“I am. Well, close enough. I grew up in another suburb of Cincinnati but I always wanted to live in Bridgeport. When the position opened three years ago, I jumped at the chance to teach at the high school.”
“Is your family nearby?”
“Yeah. I’m one of three kids to Jack and Erin Springer. My sister, brother, and I all live near them. We actually go over every Sunday for dinner.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It is. It’s kind of crazy now, too, on account of the fact that both my sister and brother are married.” She lowered her voice. “I think my sister-in-law is pregnant, too.”
He grinned. “Is there a reason you’re whispering?”
Now she really was blushing. “Only because I’m goofy. Brenden hasn’t officially told us yet. I think because Samantha hasn’t told her parents. I’m so excited though. I can’t wait to be an aunt.”
Kurt grabbed the tomato she handed him and started cutting it into neat wedges. “I bet.” After a moment, he said, “I’m kind of surprised you don’t have a man in your life, too. Or do you?”
“No. No man.” And didn’t that just make her sound so interesting and cute?
He smiled. “Glad I wasn’t wrong.” As he continued to slice and dice, he said, “I don’t mean to get too personal or anything, but back home you’d be the kind of girl any man I know would be dying to take out.”
And just like that, all the memories of Danny came flooding back, stirred with a good dosage of regret and shame.
Emily knew enough about Kurt to realize that if she changed the subject he’d drop it. But if she didn’t address it then she knew she was going to have to in the future. Especially if he ever met any of her family or friends. It was going to be like the big elephant in the room.
“Um, well, there’s a story there. I did have a boyfriend. We were serious, we dated for three years.”
“What happened?”
“He, uh, Danny, he couldn’t really handle things after college.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he wasn’t sure what to do? Maybe he just didn’t want to work.” She shrugged. “Whatever the reason, he started drinking a lot, then he got even more restless and angry.”
“And you stayed with him?”
“I guess I did. Now, I don’t know why.” She paused to think about it. “Maybe I stayed with him out of habit? Anyway, I was teaching and thinking about marriage, but Danny wasn’t.” She paused again, knowing that she could probably end her story there and he would never know the difference, or wouldn’t pry. But she didn’t want to do that with Kurt. “We started arguing a lot. Then, one night, after he had way too much to drink, he hit me.”
Suddenly the air in the kitchen felt like they were in the eye of a hurricane. It was that tense and still.
With methodical movements, he set his knife down and turned to her. “He hit you?” He swallowed. “Were you hurt?”
There was that accent again. Pronounced in a tone that was now two octaves lower. “Bad enough for me to never want to see him again.”
“I hope to hell not.”
Now she felt stupid, like she should’ve been smart enough not to date a man like that in the first place. “Danny, he wasn’t always bad. He just had an addiction, you know?”
He shook his head. “That doesn’t excuse what he did, Em. Where I come from, men don’t hit girls. Not when they’re drinking. Not when they’re in trouble. Not ever.”
A little shiver went through her. Kurt sounded like he really cared. Sounded like he cared about her. Though she didn’t really know him, she liked how that made her feel.
“Does he still live around here?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Danny? Yeah. Every once in a while, I’ll run into him at the grocery or see him from a distance on the bike trail.”
His blue eyes were scanning her face. “Does that go okay?”
“Okay enough. We pretend we don’t know each other.”
“I wish I would’ve known you then. I would’ve taken care of him for you.”
“There was no need. He felt bad about what he’d done. Plus, Brenden and my brother-in-law, Chris, paid him a visit.”
“Good.”
She blew out a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I sure didn’t intend to talk about my ex.” What a way to ruin a perfectly good first date!
“No, I’m the one who asked about your past. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you told me.”
“Really?”
He nodded, his blue eyes staring at her in such a way that she felt like there wasn’t another person in the world who mattered to him. “Oh, yeah. Because now I know.”
Now he knew.
Emily couldn’t say exactly why, but those three words felt important. Fighting a blush, she turned away from him and pressed a hand to her stomach.
She was feeling things for Kurt Holland that she hadn’t felt for any man since Danny. Yes, she was attracted to him, but it was something more than that. It was like she wasn’t able to concentrate on anything else but him whenever he was nearby.
No, it was like she didn’t want to. For better or worse, she had developed a full-on infatuation with this man in her kitchen.
She couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen between them next.
CHAPTER 7
From Les Larke’s
Tips for Beginning Poker Players:
Don’t base everything you do on something that you saw on TV. Those poker players on television are not only professionals—but they know they’re being filmed. Real-life poker is messy and complicated.
Kurt had the urge to either wrap his arms around Emily and promise her that no one would ever hurt her again … or take off in his truck and pay a visit to the loser who’d dared to lift a hand to her in anger.
Neither of those actions m
ade sense.
Once again, Sam hadn’t been wrong. Kurt would’ve hit Garrett, too. Fact was, he’d never been the type of man to shy away from making his point. And while he was real glad Emily had her brothers’ support, there was a small, jealous part of him that wished he’d been the man to have helped her back then.
He would have been more than happy to have taken care of that loser ex of hers. Heck, if he came across this Danny guy now, he’d probably get in his face.
But he was more than sure that she wouldn’t have appreciated the gesture. She wasn’t his. Not anywhere close to being his.
He also had no business attempting to try to comfort her in the middle of her kitchen. She’d probably send him straight for the door.
Therefore, since neither of those ideas were an option, he looked around for something to do. “You got anything more for me to cut up?”
She sighed in obvious relief. “Ah, no. But if you’ll sit down, I’ll finish up the last of this. We should be eating chicken marsala in ten minutes, tops.” After glancing at the clock on her stove, she frowned. “I really didn’t think it was going to take this long.”
He had no idea what chicken marsala was, but it sure smelled good. “Take your time. Like I said, I didn’t have any plans tonight. And it’s been a real long time since I’ve had a home-cooked meal beyond burgers and chili.”
Pulling out a wooden spoon, she stirred around the onions and mushrooms in the pan. “Why don’t you tell me about what you’ve been doing since you moved here? Have you gotten the chance to explore much of Cincinnati?”
“Not really. My buddy Troy took me down to a Reds game when I came out the first time, but other than that, I’ve been trying to get my business going.”
“I bet.” She smiled at him before returning to her dish. “What about Bridgeport? Do you like it so far? I mean, what you’ve seen of it?”
“It’s nice. The river’s pretty.” He frowned. Even to his own ears, his appreciation was lacking.
“A lot of my students’ dads play golf. Do you play?”
“Uh … I’m not really the golfing type.”
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