Chapter 6
6
Your destination is on your right.
"Two ninety-five…" Hank murmured, checking the Russell Street number at the mailbox, before taking a good look at the house. "Nice." The dark gray, one-story, craftsman home with cream shutters and columns was a far cry from the tiny rental home he lived in.
"Maybe one day," he said on a sigh, while giving a quick glance at his dash clock, then back at the house. He was a few minutes early, but…
The front door flew open and Collin came barreling out, then raced down the front walkway. He gave the young man a grin as he opened the door, hopped inside, then slammed the door shut.
"You just missed getting to meet my mom," Collin said, while leaving his big backpack in the floor in front of him, then with, "She wanted to say thank you," as he buckled himself in.
Yeah, I bet.
She’d probably finish her thanks with, Dr. Lawton. But he wasn’t going to say anything like that to a grinning Collin.
"Sorry I missed her." That sounded sincere, right? "So, what does your mom do?" he asked as he looked over his shoulder before pulling away from the house.
"She’s a paralegal for a divorce attorney."
"I see." That could explain why she was so argumentative. "Does she like it?"
"Oh, yeah. Ms. Marotta’s a great boss, and just a really nice lady. You’ll see her at some of our home games with my mom."
Great.
Hank was an assistant coach for the team, and her attendance at games was something he’d tried not to dwell on too much. But, of course, she’d be there. Why wouldn’t she be? She was obviously a very loving, supportive parent, meaning she would be up front and center cheering her son on. Maybe she’d give the banner share of what he could only assume would be a loud, obnoxious woman complaining about all the bad calls to Coach Bush.
"I’ll be happy to meet her then."
"Oh, you won’t have to wait for that." A sinking feeling hit the pit of his stomach. "She’s president of the PTA and’ll be talking to the other parents during practice. You know, recruiting."
"Great."
Maybe Collin wouldn’t be able to tell his smile was anything but happy. On the bright side, he’d have the whole day to prepare himself. On the other, a jock cup might be necessary, just in case she might be in a ball-busting mood. He let out a low sigh. He supposed if he had to meet the woman, at least ripping the bandage off tonight would get it over with.
Damned splinter.
Familiar sounds greeted Hank before he made it to the open gymnasium’s double doors. Sneakers squeaking on the polished court. Basketballs bouncing and hitting the backboards. Male laughter mixed in with grunts and shouts from the team and coaches already there. More than likely he was the last coach to arrive.
It had nothing to do with Mrs. Webster.
Right .
Maybe she’d be in a decent mood since Collin had made an A on his exam. The kid had to have been studying. Hank had thrown in some pretty difficult equations to work through, and the young man had done well on them. Maybe he shouldn’t dread...
A group of people gathered in a circle on the sideline drew his attention—especially some of the woman. Must be the parents for the PTA thing. So, she was there somewhere.
Two of the ladies were kind of tall, although just because Collin was tall didn’t mean his mother would be too. And that one…
Hank grimaced at the sour expression on her face.
Was that her?
Just then the group parted, stopping him short.
"It can’t be," he whispered, as his hungry gaze traced over the back of a woman’s slight form in a figure hugging, black sweater and mid-calf, red and black floral skirt, with a big tote bag hanging from one shoulder. Even in heels, the others towered over her blond, curly head.
Maybe it’s not her .
Small town or not, there had to be more than one woman that looked like Jo. Of course there had to be. But this one? This one’s head was one he’d recognize anywhere. He should. He’d spent enough time covertly staring at it Sunday night. Then later when he’d watched her walk away—willing her to turn around. Even once.
Of course, she hadn’t.
It had to be her, since he doubted the mere sight of one of those other women would have his ears buzzing and pulse hammering. Then, of course, was his need to keep other parts of his body under control. Loose, gray sweats weren’t very forgiving. And whether it was a good idea or not, he found his feet taking him across the court toward the woman whose laughter reached him, nearly choking him with emotion.
"Jo, you’re a hoot," one of the women said, laughing, while the sour-faced woman’s expression remained, well, sour.
"Jo."
She stiffened at his quiet utterance, then slowly turned, bringing her beautiful profile into view. He’d kissed that jaw—that neck. Had felt her pulse racing under his lips and tongue as he’d taken her.
Hazel eyes raised to his, her pupils dilating, and cheeks pinkening., "Hank," she said on a low, shuddering breath. Then…
"What are you?—"
"What are you?—"
He joined in on her chuckle over them saying the same thing at the same time, all while he stared at her in wonder.
"You first," he said, unable to keep from smiling, while heat crept up his neck when he glanced around at the curious eyes on them. He had the distinct impression they’d just become the center of attention. It seemed to be the norm for them. "Maybe over here," he added, taking her by the elbow and guiding her away toward the back of the gym.
They’d barely taken a few steps when the not too quiet whispers started.
"We’re now the topic of conversation," she said, kind of laughing as they went, then grumbled, "I bet that nosy-ass Carolyn Snodgrass can’t wait to activate the phone tree."
"There’s a phone tree?" he asked, pulling her around to face him once he had her in a quiet corner. At least as quiet as it could be. And with the level of noise, there was no chance they’d be overheard. "So…" He was about to ask more about the phone tree thing, but the way her eyes staring up at him softened, stopped him. "Never mind." Now that he had her semi-alone, what was he supposed to say to her? "I thought I’d never see you again."
That didn’t sound needy. Much.
"It’s a small town." A smile touched her lips. "The chances we’d run into each other wasn’t out of the realm of possibility."
"True. But here of all places."
"My son goes to school here. But that doesn’t explain why you’re here, coach ," she said, that touch of mischief he loved filling her gaze as she pulled on the whistle around his neck.
"I’m a teacher."
"You are?" She dropped the whistle, her eyes on him going soft again. "What do you teach?"
"I teach?—"
"Dr. Lawton," Collin called out, sending Hank’s gaze to where the kid jogged toward them from mid-court.
" He’s here?"
His heart, that seconds before had been galloping in excitement, did a little stutter as he focused back on Jo.
Please, no.
But he had to ask.
"Who?" Surprisingly, he’d managed to ask that without choking.
" Dr. Lawton."
His heart might as well have stopped, while that sinking feeling from earlier hit him again.
It can’t be ? —
"Hey, Mom."
Jo’s face filled with a huge smile that at any other time he would have found beautiful. It was a smile he’d have loved absorbing through a kiss.
But not now.
Not when Collin brushed past him and picked Jo up—tote and all—and gave her a hug.
"Hey, baby," she said, as he put her down. "I’m so proud of you. Good job with the test. I guess I’ll have to give Dr. Lawton credit on not being such an a…" She let out a little cough. "A butthead and giving you a fair chance."
"Um, Mom," the young man said, his panicked eyes flashing to Hanks.
"Oh, sorry," she laughed out, focusing her attention back on Hank. "You won’t tell him I said anything about him, will you?"
Hank shook his head, while the sinking feeling hit rock bottom.
"Mom, it’s a little too late for that."
"Why?" Her widened eyes went to her son, before leaning past him, then Hank, her gaze darting around. "Is he close by or something?"
"Really close." That had her frowning as she faced her son again. "He’s right here," Collin said, while her eyes followed his thumb flicking Hank’s way.
"You?" Jo’s face blanched and features froze. Even her mouth seemed to be stuck slightly open after her gasp, until she took a deep breath and blurted out, " You’re Dr. Lawton?"
"Yes. Which, I’m assuming, makes you jwebster."