Take a Chance

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Sheesh. When was the last time he’d been looking forward to something so simple? He couldn’t remember. After joining them and having a good-natured laugh with Emily and the others about getting caught on their date, Kurt grabbed a beer and helped Brenden start up the charcoal fire in one of the picnic areas off the main area. There was plenty of space to spread out and enjoy a barbecue. And since it didn’t seem as if any of the other folks who’d come to the lake were interested in sitting by a campfire, it felt almost like they had the whole area to themselves.

  The women had gone back to Brenden’s truck to get some blankets.

  “I bet this is a pretty tame night for you,” Brenden said.

  “Nah. It’s a good one. Well, despite running into my brother and all.”

  “And you ran into Emily’s brother, too.”

  Kurt wasn’t sure where he was going with that. “Like I said, it’s all good.”

  Brenden studied him a moment before seeming to come to terms with something. He nodded. “Good. Now let me tell you about the fish I almost caught here.”

  As Brenden launched into a convoluted fish tale, the girls got back and set up chairs next to them. Minutes later, all four of them were sitting down, the girls wrapped in blankets, and chuckling about Brenden’s fish that got away. Conversation meandered along as they opened another round of beers, and ate way too many s’mores.

  Around ten o’clock, Samantha was yawning and they were cleaning up. “We should get together again soon,” Brenden said. Winking at Em, he added, “I didn’t know going on my sister’s dates could be so fun.”

  Kurt had an idea. “My buddy from home, Ace, is coming here next weekend. We were thinking about getting a poker game together in the garage.”

  “In your garage?” Emily wrinkled her nose. “Why there?”

  “We smoke cigars. We don’t smoke them in the house even back in West Virginia.”

  “So you want to sit in a garage, smoke cigars, and play poker?”

  “And drink beer. Don’t forget that.”

  “Sounds like a bunch of smelly, smoky guys,” Emily teased. “I’ll remember to keep my distance.”

  Brenden turned to his wife. “What did you say you have going on next Saturday night, Samantha?”

  “My mother has tickets to a play downtown.”

  Brenden brightened. “That means I’m free, right?”

  “It does,” she said slowly, “though I thought you said you were going to winterize the backyard.”

  Kurt noticed that Emily was trying very hard not to laugh about that. He took another bite of his last s’more and leaned back on his hands, letting the beer and the company soothe him.

  “Can I bring a buddy over to play, too?” Brenden asked. Samantha grinned. “Brenden, you sound like a little kid wanting to come to a birthday party.”

  “Sorry, but I want to know.”

  Kurt grinned. “Yeah, sure. The more the merrier.”

  “Great. I’ll see if Chris wants to go, too.”

  “I’m sure he will,” Samantha said drily. “I can’t see our brother-in-law saying no to a garage full of men, beer, poker chips, and cigars.”

  Emily winked at her sister-in-law. “Sounds like trouble.”

  Kurt realized it sounded like something far different than that. It sounded almost like home.

  CHAPTER 10

  FROM LES LARKE’S

  TIPS FOR BEGINNING POKER PLAYERS:

  Stop worrying about what everyone else is doing. Pay attention to the cards in your hands—usually that’s plenty to worry about.

  “I had a good time tonight,” Emily said when Kurt parked in front of her condominium complex. “Actually, I don’t remember the last time I had so much fun with my brother.”

  Kurt grinned as he set the car in park. “As compliments go, I’ll take that as pretty good.”

  Belatedly, she realized that she’d just talked about her brother on their date. She wrinkled her nose. “I guess that sounded pretty bad, didn’t it? I only meant—”

  He chuckled. “No reason to explain, Emily. I know what you meant.” When she released her seat belt and reached for the door handle, he pressed a hand on her knee. “Hold up. I’ll come get you.”

  Then he got out of his side of the truck’s cab before she could tell him that she was perfectly capable of getting out of a truck on her own.

  When he opened the door and held out a hand to help her down, she started thinking that maybe she’d had it all wrong after all. Feeling his hand in hers, and his other around her waist? Well, it was enough to make a girl think taking care of herself 100 percent of the time was overrated.

  After closing the door, he clasped her palm again and started walking. “Is your tongue bleeding?”

  “Hmm? Uh, why?”

  “Most women I know these days get irritated when they aren’t allowed to do things for themselves. I thought maybe you were working on keeping your opinion to yourself.”

  She looked up at his profile. Even in the dim light, she took the time to admire his strong jaw, the way he was holding her with care. And how he wasn’t apologizing for his actions, only for the fact that she might have fault with them. “No, I was just thinking it was nice to have you help me.” She’d liked touching him, too, but didn’t feel brave enough to share that.

  After wondering just how honest she should be, she decided to admit something else. “I was just thinking that it’s been quite a while since a guy put forth so much effort. It was nice.”

  “It wasn’t anything. Some habits are hard to break, I guess.”

  “Did your father teach you to open all those doors?”

  “Oh, yeah. And what he didn’t get into my head, my mother did. We weren’t fancy around our house, but my parents made sure I didn’t act disrespectful around women. It stuck.”

  “For Sam, too?”

  “I hope so.” He winked. “Otherwise, my father’s gonna kick my ass for messing him up.” Stopping in front of her door, he held out his hand. “Give me your key so I can help you get in. Then, I’ll head on home. I promise.”

  She realized that he said that to keep her fears at bay. “You must have done a real good job on your gentleman lessons,” she teased as she pulled out her keys and dutifully handed them to him.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw as he unlocked her door, then opened it and helped her turn on the light. “Don’t know if I did or I didn’t. But, uh, well, I just wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking about what you told me about your old boyfriend.”

  And that felt like a splash of cold water. “I didn’t tell you about Danny so you would stew on it.”

  “Of course I’m stewing on it.” He scowled. “Look at you, Em. You’re gorgeous. Sweet, too. Pretty damn near perfect.”

  “I’m not any of that.”

  His voice lowered as he stepped closer. “Don’t do that. Don’t shrug off my compliments. Don’t act like I don’t get to have an opinion.”

  “I … I’m sorry. I just meant that I never thought of myself as all that.”

  “Well, to me you are,” he murmured, linking a couple of his fingers through the ones on her left hand. “And even if you weren’t, it wasn’t okay for him to mistreat you.”

  She knew that. “I just don’t want you to feel like I heaped too much on your shoulders …”

  “No, don’t you apologize for sharing. I’m glad you did. And I took it to heart, too.” He turned so she could see his expression in the ray of light streaming out of her tiny entryway. “I don’t want to presume that, uh, this is anything more than a good night for you. But if, by chance, it does move into a real date, or maybe something else, well, Emily, I need you to know something. I would never lay a hand on you. Never.”

  His expression was serious, and his voice? That drawl was thick with concern. It practically ma
de her insides melt. “I wasn’t worried about you hurting me, Kurt.”

  He looked at her intently, like he was trying to read her expression. “Good. I’m glad. I don’t want you to worry when you think about me.” He inhaled. “I mean, if you do think about me.” His breath hitched. “Oh, hell. I think I’d better tell you goodnight.”

  Tilting her head up, she smiled at him while her heart beat a little faster, waiting for him to lean down and at last brush his lips against hers. “Goodnight, Kurt.”

  But instead, he ran his thumb along her cheek. “Night.”

  Then he turned away and headed back to his truck. “Lock up safe, ’kay?”

  No kiss. She swallowed her disappointment.

  “’Kay,” she whispered as she walked inside and shut the door. Then, when she was finally alone, she leaned her head against the wall and sighed. She didn’t know what was going to happen between the two of them, but she did know that Kurt couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Because she knew that (1) she most certainly was going to be thinking about him, and (2) she was definitely going to hope that he called her soon and that he’d come over again. Or that he would drive her around in his truck and open lots of doors for her, too.

  Because then she could smile and get to know him and try to figure out how to convince him that there was more to him than he believed.

  And that she really, really would like to kiss him very soon.

  After kicking off her shoes, she turned off the downstairs light and went up to bed. She wanted to think about their night and sit and dream about him.

  Just like all those silly girls she taught. Who, she now realized, might not be all that silly after all. They might have been right on the money.

  CHAPTER 11

  FROM LES LARKE’S

  TIPS FOR BEGINNING POKER PLAYERS:

  Don’t play drunk. Enough said.

  “When’s Ace supposed to get here?” Sam asked from his spot on the couch.

  “The same time I told you ten minutes ago,” Kurt said.

  Sam looked at the screen of his cell. “That time passed two minutes ago.”

  Kurt was real close to either cussing out his brother, telling him to stand outside until Ace arrived, or taking away the cell phone when the reality of the situation hit him hard. Sam was acting like a kid again. An excited kid.

  He hadn’t done anything like that in weeks. Maybe not in months. Try as he might, Kurt couldn’t remember the last time that Sam hadn’t acted like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  And that allowed him to take a deep breath and give the kid a break. “You’re looking forward to seeing Ace, aren’t you?”

  Getting to his feet, Sam nodded sheepishly. “Yeah.”

  “You miss him that much?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” He looked down at his feet. “Or maybe it’s that he’s from home.”

  That was it. Kurt had once heard it took people a full year for a new place to feel like home. He’d only paid half attention to it, thinking that Spartan, West Virginia, was going to be his home forever. But now, well, yeah. He got it. No matter how nice their house was or how much money he was making or how much better the schools were, Bridgeport didn’t hold a candle to the way things were back in West Virginia. That was where his roots and his heart were.

  Realizing that Sam was standing there, half waiting for him to either say it was okay or to make fun of him or something, Kurt gave a little of himself. “I get it, Sam. I think that’s why I called Ace in the first place. I’ve been looking forward to seeing him, too.”

  Sam stepped closer. “You have?”

  “Yeah. I’ve known the guy since I was five. Of course nobody here is going to be like him.”

  “Do you think Miss Springer’s brother is really going to show up here tonight?”

  Remembering the look of interest in Brenden Springer’s face, he nodded. “I do.”

  “Do you think that’s weird?”

  “No.”

  “How come?”

  “So far, what I’ve learned from life here in Bridgeport is if a guy wants to have a good time, he’s got to head down to the city. That involves money and getting an Uber or something. Why would a guy want to go to all that trouble if he just wants to play some poker and have a couple of beers?”

  Sam laughed. “That is so typical of you, Kurt.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean that you’re always sure you’re right.”

  He was feeling a little offended. “That ain’t a bad thing.”

  “It ain’t for you.” He laughed. “For the rest of us, though? It kinda sucks.”

  Not sure if he was offended or amused, Kurt stood up. “Hey, I swear I’m not that—”

  “He’s here.” Sam threw open the front door and walked outside, his face looking like he was seven years old again and finding out that they were going to Gatlinburg.

  Shaking his head, Kurt followed, then was pretty sure his expression matched his little brother’s when he caught sight of the old black Chevy truck … and Ace.

  Ace, with his short-cropped blond hair, brown eyes, and permanent tan looked the same as ever. But there was an air about him that felt different. Was it relief? Or was he merely putting that emotion on his buddy’s shoulders because he was feeling that way? He had a feeling it could have been partly both.

  “Hey,” Ace said to Kurt after he hugged Sam. “How are you?”

  “I’m good.” He held out his hand, then grunted as Ace gave him a one-armed hug. “You?”

  “Better now. It was a haul. Tons of traffic.” Looking up and down the street, he whistled low. “Y’all are living the life of Riley here. This is quite a place, Kurt.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “It’s better than that.”

  He supposed it was. The house was an older one for Bridgeport. Unlike most of the houses in newer subdivisions that were made of brick, his was wooden. It was painted a pale yellow and had white trim and a dark green door. He and his team had planted a variety of trees and redone the flower beds. All in all, the house looked well-kept and comfortable.

  Thinking of how it compared with the house he grew up in, he had to admit that it was a step up.

  “Kurt has turned into a neat freak,” Sam griped as he led the way inside, Ace’s rolling duffel bag trailing behind him. “We clean all the time now.”

  “Hardly that,” Kurt said.

  “Feels like it.”

  “It ain’t like you have much choice, kid,” Ace said. “There’s no one else around. I mean, it’s just you and Kurt, yeah?”

  A shadow passed through Sam’s eyes before nodding. “Yeah. It’s just us now, and even that isn’t going to last real long. I’ll be at college next year, so it’s just gonna be Kurt here in Bridgeport.”

  Kurt braced himself, ready to hear Ace say something about how he needed to move back home as soon as Sam went to college. But instead of doing that, his buddy just shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  And that set off an alarm. What did that mean?

  Catching his gaze. Ace shook his head, letting him know that they’d talk later. That was good enough for him.

  “You want the tour or to go get something to eat?”

  Ace clapped him on the back. “Let’s get that tour, then eat. Then, we’ll catch up.”

  “I can do that.”

  ***

  Three hours later, after Sam and Kurt had showed Ace around Bridgeport and then took him out for pizza in a hole-in-the-wall restaurant off the bike trail, he and Ace were sitting on the back deck. Sam had taken off to see one of the new buddies that he’d made.

  “All right, spill,” Kurt said. “What’s going on with you?”

  Ace shifted uncomfortably. “Why do you think something is goin
g on?”

  “Probably because you are never secretive.”

  He scowled. “I can keep a secret.”

  “Yeah, but you never do.”

  Looking a little sheepish, Ace propped up one of his feet on the base of the chair next to him. “True that.”

  “So, what’s going on? Is it Finn?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Ace could hardly look at him. Ace, who used to always act as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Who’d played his position on the defensive line like no one was ever going to stop him. “What happened?”

  “His mother found somebody new.” He paused. Swallowed. “Again.”

  Liz was Ace’s ex. If he wasn’t so close to Ace, he’d be more vocal about how she was every man’s cautionary tale. Liz had been a bar hookup that had turned into a two-week relationship, based essentially on compatibility in bed. She also was flighty, spoiled, and temperamental. Kurt had always figured any two of those traits was a red flag. All three? Well, it had been a recipe for a nightmare relationship.

  “Why do you care about who Liz is hooking up with?”

  “Because the guy is stupid as all get out.” His lips pursed. “He’s also wanting her to move to Reno.”

  “Liz can’t go anywhere. Finn is a freshman.”

  “She doesn’t care about that.” His expression tightened. “And neither does her man. Shoot, I don’t think they even stop their lovefest long enough to give Finn the time of day. Every time I see him, he looks a little more lost.”

  Finn was a big kid. He took after his father in build and temperament. Because of that, a lot of people made the mistake of thinking that he was older or more mature than he was. But the fact was Finn was the product of a brief affair between two very different people. And while Ace had always done his best to have a relationship with him, Finn had always lived with his mother and been subjected to her schemes, various relationships, and whims.

  “He still playing football?”

  “What? Oh, yeah. He’s started on JV, and Coach said before the end of the season they’re going to put him on the field of varsity.”