Nice to know her girl parts still worked fine even on an unwanted limited-calorie diet. “Yes, may I help you with something?”
“When did you get back into town?”
Figured he’d have one of those deep, husky voices that vibrated right down to her...yeah, she wasn’t letting her mind wander there. “Yesterday.”
He put his hands on his lean hips. “Are you staying at the house?”
Something thunked in her brain.
His eyebrow lifted. “Cassidy?”
“I’m sorry.” Boy, was she sorry. “But do we know each other?”
“We dated in high school.”
This time her brain clicked off. When it flickered back to life an error message flashed. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, we would have if you had shown up as promised.”
She could see every person in the room lean in closer. Even the soft music pumping through the speakers faded into the background. “Uh...”
His smile grew wider. “You don’t remember?”
Because it never happened. “No.”
“I’m heartbroken.”
“But, I...wait. When...?” She closed her mouth to stop the string of silliness.
His eyebrow lifted as he put a finger behind his ear. “I didn’t catch all of that.”
No way would she have left this guy stranded at a movie or anywhere else. Brown hair, sky-blue eyes and a flirty charm that started her knees shaking. Yeah, he fell into the unforgettable category. Even a woman facing the wrong side of luck could see that.
She glanced behind him at the semicircle of onlookers standing a few feet away. A quick look to her right and left showed the same pattern. Women gathered around, scowling, and some going as far as to point. A few faces seemed familiar. One woman actually frowned and made a tsk-tsking sound as she shook her head like some sort of disappointed elementary school teacher. Cassidy thought that was overkill, but she’d take it because, well, she didn’t have much choice.
She inhaled the fragrant mix of greenery and flowers and turned back to the guy who had her stomach bouncing to her knees. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“No.” That dimple of his got sexier as he held out his hand.
She stared down. Long and lean, even his fingers were attractive. She’d never noticed a guy’s hands before, but that didn’t mean she was going to walk right into a joke and become its big ole butt. “I don’t think—”
“I’m Mitch Anders.”
She knew the name. Heck, everyone knew the name. He’d been the star high school quarterback who took the team to the State Championship all those years ago. He’d left town on a scholarship the year after she did, with talk of a professional football career waiting in his future. She lost track of him after that.
Admittedly, she didn’t pay much attention to anything in school, boys and classes included. She remembered him being cute, but she knew he certainly didn’t look like he did now. Wowsa.
And they never dated. Nope. Never.
“I’m Cassidy.”
He leaned in and gave her a little wink. “Yeah, I know. I already said your name, remember?”
“What happened to your neck?” She closed her eyes the minute the babble left her mouth. Her breath also caught in her throat. She blamed the fumble of words rather than the feel of his hand folded over hers. “I mean, you, ah, look slimmer. Not that you were ever fat.”
One of the bystanders laughed.
Cassidy rushed to cover her most recent verbal disaster, though she feared there would be more. “You were more muscular then. Like, thicker in the shoulder to jaw area. You had a neck, of course. It was just...big.”
She swore she heard a gurgling sound. Probably had something to do with her drowning in stupidity.
He held up his free hand as his eyes sparkled with mischief. “That compliment, if that’s what it was supposed to be, was kind of painful.”
“It didn’t sound too great in my head either.” The same head that was now pounding.
“But I think I know what you’re saying.”
“That makes one of us,” she mumbled right before one of the women breached the personal space limit and stepped closer, fixing Cassidy with a glare. She sent a bug-eyed look right back at the lady. Whispering was one thing. Open rudeness called for boundaries.
“I spent most of my teens and early twenties in the gym. When my football career ended, so did my unreasonable need to be as big as possible. Eventually my neck returned to human size. I’m hoping my brain will one day get there, too,” he said as if he hadn’t noticed the female-to-female silent battle waging around him.
Cassidy gave her hand a gentle tug but he didn’t let go. Fine, she’d bumble through this on words alone. “I didn’t mean all of that the way it sounded.”
“I wasn’t offended.” He glanced to his left and nodded a hello to part of their unwanted audience. That fast the crowd of women disbursed. Even the ones on the other side who hadn’t gotten the welcome stepped back. A low mumble that signaled the return to civilized conversation started a second later.
“Impressive. Teach me how to do that.”
“It comes with the dimple.” He pointed to it as if she hadn’t seen it.
Since she had eyes, she had. She also guessed his cool superpower over gossipmongers had more to do with the combination of the face, the shoulders, the chest...and every other sinfully adorable part of him.
“We didn’t go out.” She blurted out the words because, really, the conversation couldn’t go worse if she weighed them first.
“I tried.”
“You...” Somewhere near her an overhead sprinkler went off. She heard the spray and felt the mist. It took all the control she had not to flatten her hair with her palms. Then his words fully registered. “Wait, what?”
“We were supposed to meet at Schmidt’s Diner for breakfast the day before classes ended your senior year. You never showed.”
A memory tickled at the back of her mind. When he squeezed her hand then dropped it, the facts came rushing back. “But that was a joke.”
He tucked those mesmerizing fingers into the front pockets of his faded jeans and rocked back on his heels. “Um, no.”
He’d been a year behind her and traveling in a pack of rowdy athletes who barely noticed her through the cloud of testosterone swirling around them. They sure didn’t talk to her throughout school. She wasn’t a brain and wasn’t a jock. Not that kind of jock. She’d always preferred the outdoors and quiet, solitary climbs to group sports.
“You were standing with your friends and laughing and told me it would break your heart if we didn’t share pancakes.” The long-forgotten memory came back spiraling back at her in vivid detail.
This time he shot her the irresistible, dimpled nod he’d just bragged about. “And you said you’d come.”
“I certainly didn’t.”
“True.” He nodded. “Technically you said ‘I’ll get right on that,’ but it’s the same thing.”
“In what universe?”
“Uh, this one?”
“Not really.”
He waved his hand as if dismissing her argument. “Good news is I’ve gotten over it.”
“Well, it has been ten years.” And she’d bet he forgot he’d asked her out the second after he did it.
He leaned against the table with one ankle crossed over the other, oblivious to the water spray putting a soft glisten in his hair. “Are you here for a visit?”
She wondered what it must feel like not to worry about frizzy hair, to be so unconditionally accepted and so comfortable in his surroundings. The constant attention made her insides jump around. Between the staring and eavesdropping, she was ten seconds away from climbing out of her skin.
“You mean the nursery?” She switched her weight from foot to foot as she asked the question.
“I meant Holloway. You know, the same town in West Virginia where you were born.” His eyes narrowed. “You okay
?”
“I’m not exactly the town’s favorite daughter.”
“I believe the town refers to that incident as The Snub.”
“What?”
He shrugged. “People around here like to make up names for thing.”
Something inside her deflated. She actually felt her shoulders slump. “That’s just fabulous.”
“You called Holloway a pit. Wait.” He held up a finger and stared at the ceiling for a second as if in deep thought. “I think the term was rotting pit.”
She winced liked she always did when someone reminded her of the interview. “You read the article.”
He chuckled. “Everyone read it.”
From the look of it, every resident of Holloway stood in the same room with her, more than ready to lecture her on her long ago behavior. “Apparently.”
“You could use a better PR team.”
Since she barely had money for a sandwich, his insight made her laugh. “Or a quicker brain.”
“Hungry?”
Maybe her brain was even slower than she thought. “I feel like I keep saying this, but what?”
“I assume superathletes eat.”
“What are we talking about now?” She lowered her voice to a whisper even though he kept talking as if they were the only ones standing in the room.
“That date. Way I figure it, you still owe me.”
Right. They’d eat and his girlfriend or wife would come in and make a scene. That would give everyone in town a new reason to hate her. No. Thank. You.
“You can’t possibly be this hard up for a meal companion,” she said.
“You make dating sound so sexy.”
She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Let’s just say I’ve known some interesting guys.” Then the words registered. “Wait, did you say date?”
“Tomorrow at seven at Schmidt’s.”
That bit of news sent her mind racing down another track. “It’s still open? Old Man Schmidt was ninety when we were in school.”
“And still makes a mean pancake.” Mitch took out his phone. “What’s your number?”
She beat back a sigh. “I don’t have one.”
He shot her one of those you’re-so-full-of-it looks men did so well. “Everyone has a phone.”
“I don’t.” It wasn’t even a line. She actually couldn’t afford one right now. She owned a tent and a backpack and the sneakers on her feet. Hard to believe she once employed an agent and sat in on fancy dinners with prospective sponsors talking about documentary deals.
Mitch’s gaze brushed over her face like a caress. “Seriously?’
She had to swallow to force the word out. “Yes.”
“Fair enough.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket.
“You believe me?”
He shrugged. “Are you lying?”
“No.”
He shrugged. “Then what do you say to the date?”
She said the first thing that popped into her head. “I’ll get right on that.”
The smile that spread over his mouth was bright enough to light the room. “Nice comeback.”
“Thought that might impress you.”
“Oh, it did. Now, it’s my turn.” He stood up straight again. “I’m going to walk away thinking we’re on for tomorrow.”
Her good mood faded. “I didn’t—”
“When I do go—” he pointed in the direction of the glassed-in office at the far end of the room, “—you’re going to be tempted to watch my ass.”
The comment was so out of context it hit her like a sharp smack. “Excuse me?”
“Just to be clear, I won’t be offended. As far as I’m concerned, you can go right ahead and look because I can guarantee you if the positions were reversed, I’d be watching yours.”
With her mouth hanging open and her mind muddled, she watched him walk away. No, make that saunter. It was the sure stalk of a hunter, all grace with no wasted steps.
And damn if she didn’t take a peek at his ass.
* * * * *
Available Now
LEAN ON ME by HelenKay Dimon,
Wherever Carina Press ebooks are sold.
www.CarinaPress.com
Copyright ©2012 by HelenKay Dimon
About the Author
HelenKay Dimon spent the years before becoming a romance author as a...divorce attorney. Not the usual transition, she knows. Good news is she now writes full time and is much happier. She has sold over thirty novels, novellas and shorts to numerous publishers, including HarperCollins, Kensington, Harlequin, Penguin, Samhain and Carina Press. Her nationally bestselling and award-winning books have been showcased in numerous venues and her books have twice been named “Red-Hot Reads” and excerpted in Cosmopolitan magazine. She teaches fiction writing at UC San Diego and MiraCosta College. You can learn more at her website: www.helenkaydimon.com.
Visit Holloway, West Virginia, for emotional and sexy stories from HelenKay Dimon.
IT’S NOT CHRISTMAS WITHOUT YOU
The Holloway Series, book one
“Alternately tender, sweet, sexy, and funny.”
—Fresh Fiction
LEAN ON ME
The Holloway Series, book two
Named Top Read of 2012 by Dear Author
“...as is usually the case with a HelenKay Dimon book, the sex scenes were hot and the dialogue sparkled.”
—Dear Author
WE’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
The Holloway Series, book three
“The sex is steamy. The repartee is witty. There are some things in life you can just depend on, thank goodness.”
—Dear Author
JUST WHAT HE WANTED
The Holloway Series, book four
“Flirty and cheerful, this latest from Dimon is chock-full of endearing characters and yearning desire.”
—Library Journal, starred review
“...a sweet and heartbreaking romance that will make you smile and make you cry as you read along, a Harlequin Junkie recommended read.”
—Harlequin Junkie
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ISBN-13: 9781426899584
Chain of Command
Copyright © 2015 by HelenKay Dimon
Edited by Angela James
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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