Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Clark
I hate the look on her face—like she wants to vanish. She’s too stunning to ever disappear in a crowd.
She’s taller than almost everyone else, and her high heels make her even taller. Gotta respect a woman who doesn’t mind being the tallest person in the room.
“Hey,” I say, stepping up when it’s my turn at the counter. “One large nacho, extra cheese. And…” I glance at her. “Popcorn for her.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh, you don’t have to—”
“My pleasure.” I pay before she can argue.
When the worker slides the second bucket across, I offer it to her. She accepts slowly, like she’s not sure if this is real.
Her head tilts back to look at me. “Wow. You’re tall.”
I laugh. “Takes one to know one.”
Her mouth quirks. “I’m five eleven. And people never let me forget it.”
“Six five,” I reply. “So I get it. Ceiling fans and I aren’t on speaking terms.”
That earns me a real laugh, warm and unguarded, the kind that makes the crowded arena shrink to just us.
She’s gorgeous. A classic beauty with pale skin, dark hair, and eyes the color of sapphires. Sleeping Beauty come to life.
I zero in on her lips and feel a zing straight to my heart.
“Is that guy your boyfriend?” I ask, gesturing at the men’s room.
She rolls her eyes. “First date.”
Something inside me loosens. “He’s not scoring a lot of points right now.”
“Nope.” She pops some popcorn in her mouth and chews. “My brother set us up. He thought we’d be perfect for each other—just because he’s tall.”
I scoff. “There’s more to a relationship than height.”
“Tell me about it.”
“In high school, my sister had this boyfriend who hated that she was taller than him, so she wore three-inch heels to the prom just to see what he’d do.”
“What did he do?”
“He stood on a stool for pictures.”
She nods with approval. “Badass.”
“She’s pretty pregnant right now, so she’s even more badass.”
She smiles warmly, seeming genuinely interested. “When is she due?”
“Pretty soon,” I say. “Right around Christmas.”
Her full lips stretch into a warm smile. “You must be so excited.”
My heart thuds, dropping to the pit of my stomach. Ingrid’s kid will be the first grandchild. It’s a blessing and a heartbreak. I swallow hard on the knot of sadness tightening my throat. The toe of my boot catches against the tile as I fail to pick my feet up.
It’s moments like this that just sneak up on you. Crash over you like being hit on the head with a hockey stick.
A firm hand lands on my arm. “You okay?”
I nod, blinking back the sudden emotion. “I’m fine. It’s just a rough night.”
She grimaces. “Tell me about it. I spilled popcorn all over my date. And the Stingers are bound to lose to the Rogues.”
“Yeah.” I stuff popcorn in my mouth and chew thoughtfully.
“You sure you’re okay?” she asks, stopping suddenly in front of the entrance to the upper level.
I try to nod, but can’t seem to make my head move. “Not really.”
Her hand tightens on my arm. “What’s wrong?”
“My dad died.” The words come tumbling out. It’s a lot for a stranger to take in. I don’t even know her name and I’m spilling my guts, but something about her makes me feel safe. She’s open. And she has the kindest eyes.
She squeezes my arm, her fingers sending a wave of warmth through me. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“It’s my first game without him.”
“That is tough.” The corner of her mouth lifts up in a hopeful smile. “I’m sure he’s with us. Cheering for the Stingers, right?”
“Of course.”
She points at my sweatshirt. “Do you live in Starlight Bay?”
I nod. My dad was the high school basketball coach, and Ingrid and I wear Starlight Bay High sweatshirts to honor him. She’s so pregnant, hers barely stretches over her belly.
“My grandmother does a Christmas market there every year,” she says. “She makes candles.”
“Mistletoe Market,” I say.
“That’s the one. It’s coming up in a few weeks and she’s been burning the candle at both ends getting ready for it.” She grins at her own corny joke. “She loves that town.”
“Me too.”
It’s only been a few years since I moved back home, but it’s been the right thing for me. The right move.
“Hey, can I ask you a favor?” She stops suddenly in the middle of the aisle, and the crowd around us parts.
“Sure.” How can I say no to those big blue eyes?
“Can you take a picture of me and King Bee?”
A smile tugs at my lips. “You must be a big fan.”
“Not really,” she admits. “It’s for my social media. I’m a clothing designer, and it would be great for business.”
I’ve been burned by social media prying into my life, but who am I to tell someone else how to live?
“Did you make your jeans?” I ask. “They look really cool.”
A smile transforms her face, making her eyes sparkle like twin sapphires. “Thanks.”
She hands me her phone and poses beside the mascot dressed in a gold-and-purple Stingers bee suit. Her beauty is breathtaking. Her dark hair, pale skin, and bright blue eyes would make anyone stop and stare.
“Want me to take one of you and your girlfriend?” A lady asks, holding out her hand for the phone.
I start to deny that she’s my girlfriend, but something stops me. Without meaning to, I find myself joining this gorgeous stranger in a photo.
We share a glance, smiling at each other instead of the camera.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says after the lady hands her back her phone.
I shrug. “I wanted to.”
She smiles up at me, and I’m reluctant to leave, but we’ve reached my section. And my pregnant sister is waiting for her nachos with extra cheese.
“This is me,” she says.
My heart swells. “Me too.” I hold out my arm in a chivalrous gesture. “After you.”
We walk down the steps together, side by side, as if we are the ones on a date. I stop at my row, once again stalling on saying goodbye to this ray of sunshine on my cloudy day. She stops too.
“Row G?” she asks, bending to check the placard.
Luck is on my side today. “We’re on the same row.”
I spot a few empty seats next to Ingrid and can only dare to hope. My sister waves at me, yelling something about cheese. But I barely hear her.
The woman is taking the seat next to mine, and I’m pretty sure this game just got a lot more interesting.
We slide into our seats. Hers right next to mine. Ingrid gives me a look like who’s this chick, but thanks for the nachos, and I ignore her.
“Another hazard to being tall,” the woman says, trying to figure out where to put her legs.
Our calves brush together as we get our long legs arranged in the tight space. A tingle of awareness races through me as our legs touch. My imagination runs away, picturing how we might fit together, legs entwined.
The home team scores, and the announcer stretches out every syllable in dramatic fashion. Ingrid jumps up from her seat and pumps her fist in the air as her favorite player preens for the fans. Her eyes are bright with excitement and her short hair bobs around her flushed cheeks.
It’s just like old times. Only it’s not.
“Is that your sister?”
“Yep,” I say, family pride ringing in my voice as Ingrid yells obscenities at the opposing team.
The woman’s laugh bubbles out again, and I’m struck by how easy it is, talking to her. Like we’ve known each other longer than five minutes. But we don’t even know each other’s names.
The minutes tick by, and her date still hasn’t shown up. I can’t help hoping he fell into the toilet.
And it hits me—something my dad used to say. The best part of the game isn’t on the court. It’s who you end up sitting next to.
Back then, it meant being crammed between him and my sister, the three of us yelling until our voices cracked. Tonight…it feels like it means something entirely new.