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Authors: Laura Bradford
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flashed in her direction
over a piece of pizza, or accompanying some good-natured trash talk, as was the
case at that moment, was of the knee-weakening variety if she’d ever seen one.
And his chiseled jawline…
She closed her eyes, popped a second and third pretzel into her
mouth, and then opened her eyes again, this time honing in on her closest
friend. “Yes, he’s attractive—I’d have to be an idiot not to see that. But I’m
not interested.”
Kate’s left eyebrow rose. “Not interested? Are you nuts?”
“He’s just someone I know. Barely.” At Kate’s foot tapping, she
continued. “He stopped by the office today to drop off some, um, paperwork I
didn’t need, and I felt sorry for him. So I invited him along. No big deal.
Really.”
The right eyebrow rose alongside the left. “And dinner at Sam’s
Pizza, what was that?”
Emily pulled her focus back from the basketball court where it
had strayed once again, seemingly independent of her brain and the conversation
she was trying to have and discard. “He told you about Sam’s?”
Kate grinned so widely that Emily actually found herself
glancing at the patio for evidence of any canary feathers her friend may have
swallowed. “He did.”
Emily folded her hands across her chest. “And did he happen to
tell you the only reason I went at all is because his son was so insistent and I
didn’t have the heart to say no?”
“His son?” Kate sputtered. “He has a son?”
“Seth is four and a half. And if you saw him, and he’d asked you to come along for pizza, you’d have gone,
too. Trust me.”
Turning her head, Kate looked back at the court. “So he’s
divorced, then?”
“No, he’s a widower. His wife died sometime in the last six
months or so.”
“He sure seems happy to be here with you.”
She had to laugh at that. “You mean playing basketball with
your husband, right?”
“Have you not seen how many shots he’s missed since we’ve been
standing here?”
“So maybe he’s not a basketball guy, Kate. Believe it or not,
those do exist. Difficult to fathom, I know. But still…”
Her friend made a face. “I know that. But I also know he is a basketball guy, based on what he told Joe when I
introduced them.”
“Maybe he lied,” she quipped, shrugging.
“Or maybe he’s spending more time looking over at you rather
than focusing on the game.”
“Kate. Please.” She heard the exasperated tone in her voice,
saw the heads of several people turn toward them as a result. Gritting her
teeth, Emily tried her best to get a handle on her increasing agitation before
every eye in the place was trained in her direction. “We’re just friends . That’s it.”
Without waiting for the retort she was quite sure would come,
she headed back to the food table and a recently added plate of brownies. She
was about to reach for one when Mark appeared at her side, breathing
heavily.
“The…game just…ended so Joe could start on the burgers and
dogs. So what do you say we…we check out that horseshoe pit…over there—” he
gestured toward the back edge of the property “—while he cooks? That way…maybe I
can…catch my breath a little.”
For a moment, she considered declining. To accept would mean
giving Kate another reason to keep needling her. But in the end, Emily agreed.
After all, with any luck, Joe would need Kate’s help at the grill and her friend
would finally turn her attention to something else.
One could hope, anyway.
“I’m in,” Emily said, grabbing one last handful of pretzels
from the bowl at the end of the table. “Anything to get out from under this
scrutiny for a little while.”
“Scrutiny?” Mark echoed. “What kind of scrutiny?”
Oops. She hadn’t meant to share that thought aloud.
She simply shrugged. “Never mind. Let’s go.”
* * *
H E TRIED TO FOCUS on the game, he really did. But it was hard.
Damn hard.
Emily was the kind of girl who would make cars swerve off roads
when
over a piece of pizza, or accompanying some good-natured trash talk, as was the
case at that moment, was of the knee-weakening variety if she’d ever seen one.
And his chiseled jawline…
She closed her eyes, popped a second and third pretzel into her
mouth, and then opened her eyes again, this time honing in on her closest
friend. “Yes, he’s attractive—I’d have to be an idiot not to see that. But I’m
not interested.”
Kate’s left eyebrow rose. “Not interested? Are you nuts?”
“He’s just someone I know. Barely.” At Kate’s foot tapping, she
continued. “He stopped by the office today to drop off some, um, paperwork I
didn’t need, and I felt sorry for him. So I invited him along. No big deal.
Really.”
The right eyebrow rose alongside the left. “And dinner at Sam’s
Pizza, what was that?”
Emily pulled her focus back from the basketball court where it
had strayed once again, seemingly independent of her brain and the conversation
she was trying to have and discard. “He told you about Sam’s?”
Kate grinned so widely that Emily actually found herself
glancing at the patio for evidence of any canary feathers her friend may have
swallowed. “He did.”
Emily folded her hands across her chest. “And did he happen to
tell you the only reason I went at all is because his son was so insistent and I
didn’t have the heart to say no?”
“His son?” Kate sputtered. “He has a son?”
“Seth is four and a half. And if you saw him, and he’d asked you to come along for pizza, you’d have gone,
too. Trust me.”
Turning her head, Kate looked back at the court. “So he’s
divorced, then?”
“No, he’s a widower. His wife died sometime in the last six
months or so.”
“He sure seems happy to be here with you.”
She had to laugh at that. “You mean playing basketball with
your husband, right?”
“Have you not seen how many shots he’s missed since we’ve been
standing here?”
“So maybe he’s not a basketball guy, Kate. Believe it or not,
those do exist. Difficult to fathom, I know. But still…”
Her friend made a face. “I know that. But I also know he is a basketball guy, based on what he told Joe when I
introduced them.”
“Maybe he lied,” she quipped, shrugging.
“Or maybe he’s spending more time looking over at you rather
than focusing on the game.”
“Kate. Please.” She heard the exasperated tone in her voice,
saw the heads of several people turn toward them as a result. Gritting her
teeth, Emily tried her best to get a handle on her increasing agitation before
every eye in the place was trained in her direction. “We’re just friends . That’s it.”
Without waiting for the retort she was quite sure would come,
she headed back to the food table and a recently added plate of brownies. She
was about to reach for one when Mark appeared at her side, breathing
heavily.
“The…game just…ended so Joe could start on the burgers and
dogs. So what do you say we…we check out that horseshoe pit…over there—” he
gestured toward the back edge of the property “—while he cooks? That way…maybe I
can…catch my breath a little.”
For a moment, she considered declining. To accept would mean
giving Kate another reason to keep needling her. But in the end, Emily agreed.
After all, with any luck, Joe would need Kate’s help at the grill and her friend
would finally turn her attention to something else.
One could hope, anyway.
“I’m in,” Emily said, grabbing one last handful of pretzels
from the bowl at the end of the table. “Anything to get out from under this
scrutiny for a little while.”
“Scrutiny?” Mark echoed. “What kind of scrutiny?”
Oops. She hadn’t meant to share that thought aloud.
She simply shrugged. “Never mind. Let’s go.”
* * *
H E TRIED TO FOCUS on the game, he really did. But it was hard.
Damn hard.
Emily was the kind of girl who would make cars swerve off roads
when
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