Wishing Lake (10 page)

“No guts, no glory.” Darius muttered the quote with his eyes set on the field.

“You both are going to be the death of me.” June swiped the sweat from her brow.

Sequoia returned to the field. Noah patted the quarterback’s helmet as he jogged past his teammate. The ball handler took the shotgun position. Noah was farther down the line on the right. Two Heritage defenders stood away from the receiver. The center snapped the ball. The game clock drained: twenty-one, twenty, nineteen, eighteen . . . The quarterback took four steps back. Linemen formed a protective pocket around him.

Peyton found Noah. He raced down the field desperately trying to shake his defenders. The quarterback bounced on his toes, buying time. Scanning left, scanning right, looking for an open man. Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen . . .

Noah’s strides carried him ten, fifteen, twenty yards. Peyton willed him faster, stronger, farther than the backs chasing him.

Heritage defenders dogged the Sequoia linemen, crashing through the pocket. The quarterback pivoted free. Fourteen, thirteen, twelve . . . He sent the ball high. Silently, Peyton chanted,
I believe. I believe. I believe.

A collective gasp rose above the stadium as the ball arced toward the end zone. Eleven seconds, ten, nine . . . Peyton’s gaze scrambled to Noah. He jerked right, then cut left toward the goalpost. He sprinted toward the end zone, arms pumping, feet barely kissing the ground. He was flying.

But his back was to the ball. Peyton slowly rose to her feet. She wanted to scream, “Turn around!” But she couldn’t form the words. She didn’t have the breath. All she could do was watch . . . and hope . . .

Noah crossed into the end zone, dogged by Heritage defenders in blue. Eight seconds, seven, six . . . He spun right, sighted the ball, then sprang to meet it. Defenders jumped with him. Noah reached higher, stretched farther, and pulled it into his chest. He fell back to the end zone, tucking the ball into his body, then rolled to his feet.

Time ran out. Sequoia Soldiers 26, Heritage Warriors 23. With the extra point, the final score was 27, 23, Sequoia.

Sequoia faithful roared their victory. Peyton threw her arms wide and leaped into Darius’s arms. She kissed him. Hard. He kissed her back. His arms tightened around her, pulling her into his body. Peyton froze. What was she doing?

She pushed against Darius’s chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not.” He set her back on her feet, then pulled June into a bear hug.

“We’re undefeated!” June released Darius to embrace Peyton. “We’re undefeated!”

“Even better, we’re going to the championship.” Darius turned his cover model grin on Peyton. “How did you know?”

Peyton couldn’t meet Darius’s eyes. She’d literally thrown herself at him.

She nodded toward the field. The entire Sequoia team was celebrating on the fifty-yard line. “Noah’s your brother. Determination runs in your family.”

“They’re both strong-willed men.” June sounded giddy.

Darius’ smile grew. “Well, ladies, I know some losers who owe us a drink.”

“That’s right. During the Books and Bakery Halloween event, your friends bet that Heritage would win.” June threw her head back with a laugh. “Suddenly, I’m very thirsty. But I’d better take a rain check. I need to meet the team bus back at Sequoia High.”

“I guess it’s just you and me, then.” Darius met Peyton’s eyes. He stepped back to allow June and Peyton to lead him down the stairs. “I’ll drive us to the bar.”

Peyton followed June from the bleachers. Why had she thrown herself into Darius’s arms and kissed him? What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been. Instead she’d given in to impulse. What had happened to the staid, dutiful Dr. Peyton Harris? Trinity Falls was changing her—or was it the sexy small-town newspaper reporter?

At the bar, Darius took a long drink of his soda, then gave Ean a smug smile. “Best I’ve ever tasted.”

His childhood friend shook his head. “You’ve said that after every drink.”

“And I’ve meant it each time.” Darius sighed.

Despite Darius’s taunts of bleeding his friends dry by ordering multiple rounds of beer, everyone knew he wasn’t much of a drinker. Besides, he was still light-headed from the postgame kiss Peyton had given him almost an hour earlier. Jackson had bought him one beer. Since then, Darius had been tossing back soft drinks but of different brands. He didn’t want free refills. What fun would that be? His friends had to come out of pocket.

Darius gulped more soda. “I told you not to bet against Noah. He caught Sequoia’s winning touchdown.”

Jackson drank his iced tea. “We saw it.”

Darius gestured to his boss with his glass. “It was in the final seconds of the game.”

“We were there when it happened, Darius.” Ramona, who’d already bought Darius’s and Peyton’s sodas, dipped her celery stick into a bowl of ranch dressing. Spicy buffalo wings, loaded potato skins, and onion rings also crowded the table.

The sports bar’s servers had pushed three tables together to accommodate Darius’s party of ten: Jackson, Audra, Ean, Megan, Alonzo, Doreen, Vaughn, Ramona, Peyton, and him. He’d stuck to Peyton’s side to ensure he, not Vaughn, got the seat next to her. How close had Peyton become with TFU’s good-looking concert band director? She’d accompanied him to the town council meeting. He’d escorted her to the football game. Were they more than friends? Darius scowled. Was the attraction Vaughn’s goatee?

“It was a great game.” Peyton drank the soda Ean had paid for. “Watching those players’ physical abilities was as thrilling as attending the BalletMet.”

Ramona knitted her sculpted eyebrows. “You’d compare a football game to a ballet performance?”

“Yes, I would.” Peyton shrugged her slender shoulders. “Both dancers and athletes are incredible to watch. They have strength, grace, and agility.”

Alonzo swallowed more lemonade. “Good point.”

“I don’t see it.” Ramona shook her head.

“I’m glad you enjoyed the game.” Darius watched Peyton cut into a loaded potato skin appetizer with her knife and fork. Should he tell her that, at a sports bar, silverware was more like table ornaments?

In Peyton’s company, he’d had an even better time than usual at the competition. He’d enjoyed introducing her to high school football. She was a quick study. And her strategic mind and competitive spirit had made her a great companion.

For the next hour, conversation moved on from the game to Thanksgiving, which was only three weeks away; Sequoia High School’s appearance in the upcoming championship game; and the swearing in of the town’s new mayor, Doreen Fever, on New Year’s Day.

During a lull in their discussions, Peyton leaned backward to look down the table. “Vaughn, I hate to interrupt, but could you take me home?”

“No problem.” The concert band director began making movements to leave. “I drove you to the game. I’ll take you home.”

No!
Darius fought his panic. Vaughn wasn’t going to take Peyton home. He was.

“I’m ready to leave now. Peyton, I’ll take you home.” He shoved back his seat and stood, pretending not to notice the knowing looks his friends exchanged.

Peyton’s wide eyes were surprised. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Darius offered his hand to help Peyton from her seat. “I’m sure.” He also was sure he wasn’t going to sit there while Vaughn and his goatee drove Peyton home.

Peyton’s seat belt connected with a
snick
. “I thought you didn’t want your friends playing matchmakers with us.”

“I don’t.” Darius backed out of the sports bar’s parking space, doing his best to ignore the way his heart pounded in reaction to Peyton’s proximity. Her warmth and scent filled the close confines of his nine-year-old black Nissan Maxima.

“Then why are you taking me home?”

Darius’ mind scrambled for a response. “This isn’t a date. I drove you to the bar and now I’m taking you home.”

“I saw the way your friends looked at you when you made the offer.”

So had I.
“Ignore them.” Darius made sure the traffic was clear before merging onto the street from the parking lot.

He didn’t need directions to her apartment. When she’d first moved to Trinity Falls, his contacts had told him where the university professor lived.

“I’m not upset.” Peyton shrugged her slender shoulders. “I’m just curious. Are you opposed to matchmaking in general or being set up with me in particular?”

His heart stuttered. Had he offended her? A quick glance in Peyton’s direction found her caramel eyes mocking him. Darius’s muscles went lax.

“Funny.” His tone was dry. “I just don’t like people . . .”

“Getting close to you?” Peyton attempted to finish Darius’s thought.

Her question picked at a raw wound. “I have several good friends.”

“But you’re not dating.”

“How do you know that?” He ignored his stirring irritation.

Peyton’s throaty chuckle was like a daring caress across his lower abdomen. “If you were dating, your friends wouldn’t be trying to fix you up with someone.”

She had a point. “You said I was a player.”

“I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Her words were simple, direct, and fed his soul. Someone who kept her promises and admitted when she was wrong. He was growing more and more attracted to the little professor. “What made you change your mind?”

“I realized women were flirting with you, but you weren’t flirting back.” Peyton shifted to face him. “During the game this afternoon, did you notice the women who were trying to get your attention?”

“No.” He’d enjoyed Peyton’s company too much to notice anyone else.

“I didn’t think so.”

Darius slid a look at her as he came to a four-way STOP sign. Was it his imagination or had she sounded smug?

“I’m surprised you noticed anything that happened off the field.” He entered the intersection. “You seemed focused on the game.”

“It was hard to ignore so many people glaring at me.” She chuckled. “If looks could kill, I wouldn’t have made it to halftime.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I kind of liked it.”

Darius strained to hear her words. Startled, he looked her way. She was staring out the passenger side window, seemingly lost in thought. He didn’t know how to respond to her comment, so he said nothing. The silence between them was comfortable.

The roads were quiet in Trinity Falls this evening. Barely a soul could be seen. The town was in mourning for its Heritage High School football team’s loss to their rival Sequoia. He’d commiserate with his hometown and alma mater—except he was too darn happy for Noah. His little brother was going to the state championship.
Way to go!

“Does this mean you’ve changed your mind about cochairing the community center fundraising committee with me?”

Where had that question come from? “I haven’t given the committee any thought.”

“Could you think about it now?” She turned to him again. “Since you’re willing to drive me home, I take it you no longer care that your friends are trying to fix us up.”

Darius pulled into the parking lot of Peyton’s apartment building. It was a pretty, two-story building with eight units, black Spanish tile roofing and pale cream stonework. An ornate black metal staircase led residents and visitors to the second floor. The same metalwork framed the upper and lower balustrades.

“Which apartment is yours?”

“I’m surprised you don’t know.” Peyton gave him a cheeky grin. “I’m on the second floor.”

Darius studied the four units on the top level. “I’ll walk with you to your door.” He turned off his engine and pulled the key from the ignition.

“Is Trinity Falls dangerous?” Her bright eyes dimmed with the question.

“We’re not New York City, but you should never let your guard down wherever you are.” He opened his door and rose from his seat. He started to circle his car to assist her, but Peyton was already standing and closing the passenger door.

“I know what you’re doing.” Peyton waited for him to join her.

“What?”

“You’re trying to distract me from my original question.”

The night was chilly but not too cold. He smelled firewood on the breeze. Wispy clouds slipped past the stars and over the moon.

Darius matched his steps to hers. “I really haven’t thought about the fundraiser.”

Peyton tilted her head. “From what I understand, there’s a real need to raise money for the community center.”

“Yes, there is.” The center’s roof leaked, and the heating, ventilation, and air-conditioning system needed repairs. It could also use new computers.

“Darius Knight! Is that you?”

Darius identified the female figure coming out of the shadows on the other side of the parking lot. “Evening, Ginny.”

Virginia Carp stepped into a pool of light right in front of the apartment building. She slid a look Peyton’s way. “Hello, Peyton.” Her greeting cooled.

“Hi, Ginny.” The professor sounded amused.

“Is she the reason you haven’t called me?” Ginny jerked her head toward Peyton.

“The restraining order is the reason I haven’t called you.” Darius had known Ginny since junior high school. Three years ago, he’d filed a restraining order against her.

Ginny snorted. “That’s in the past, Darius.”

“It’s a past I’d rather not repeat. Good night, Ginny.” Darius allowed Peyton to climb the ornate metal staircase ahead of him.

Peyton led him to her apartment. “Why did Ginny file a restraining order against you?”

“She didn’t. I filed one against her.”

Peyton’s wide caramel eyes met his as she closed and locked her door. “What happened?”

“Our relationship ended badly.”

Ginny had agreed to a casual relationship with Darius. Then she’d changed her mind.

“That sounds like an understatement.” Peyton leaned against her door and crossed her arms. “Who ended it?”

“I did.” Darius rubbed his eyes with his fingers. “Ginny responded by keying the word ‘jackass’ on the hood of my car and spray-painting it on the front door of my apartment. She also sent a computer virus to my laptop.”

Peyton gaped. “How do you know it was her?”

“She told me. Quincy convinced me to file the restraining order.” He shrugged off his discomfort. “Could we change the subject?”

“Of course. Let’s talk about the fundraiser.” Peyton held out her hand. “May I take your coat?”

Darius hesitated. “That wouldn’t be a good idea, Professor.” He watched a blush bloom across her cheeks.

Peyton dropped her arm to her side. “Oh, I didn’t—”

He changed the subject for both their sakes. “I don’t know anything about organizing a fundraiser.”

“I do.”

“Then why do you need me?”

“I don’t know Trinity Falls.” Peyton straightened from the door. Her confidence had returned. “Who should I recruit to help with the committee? What type of event would interest the town? When and where should we have it? You could help me with those decisions.”

Her enthusiasm was contagious. And the project was for a good cause. But he was becoming more and more attracted to her. If she was attracted to him, would she want more than a casual affair? That wasn’t something he could promise her. And look at what had happened to his arrangement with Ginny.

Darius looked away. “Can I think about it?”

“Is there anything I can say to convince you now?”

He was tempted, very tempted. But he was also scared, which was reason enough to retreat. “I need time to think.”

“Fair enough.” Peyton unlocked her door and pulled it open. “Thank you again for taking me home.”

“My pleasure.” Darius moved to the door. “Thanks for rooting for Noah.”

She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “I hope he wins the state championship.”

“I’ll tell him.” Though her message would raise additional questions. Noah had given him a teasing look when June, Peyton, and he had found his brother after the game. “Good night.”

“Good night, Darius.”

He watched her close her door and listened as she secured the locks. Only then did Darius return to his car.

How had his friends known Peyton would make him feel again? But more importantly, how could he be sure he wouldn’t screw up this relationship? Peyton had asked whether he was afraid of getting close to people. Darius wasn’t afraid; he was incapable. After all, he was Simon Knight’s son. Simon had destroyed every relationship he’d ever had. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

The bell above the door to Ean’s solo law practice chimed as Alonzo let himself into the suite Wednesday evening, Veterans Day. The building was near Books & Bakery in the Trinity Falls Town Center. The counselor recently had celebrated the practice’s one-year anniversary.

At the sound of the bell, Ean appeared in the doorway of his office. “Hi, Alonzo.”

Alonzo removed his sheriff’s hat. “Do you have a few minutes?”

Ean’s welcoming expression clouded. “Is everything all right with my mother?”

“As far as I know, she’s fine.”

Ean’s relief was visible. He gestured Alonzo to precede him into the office. “Come in.”

Alonzo crossed into the other room and lowered himself onto one of the two black leather guest chairs in front of the mahogany desk.

He rested his hat on his lap and glanced around the room. A lonely bamboo plant stood in its small, green ceramic pot on the bay windowsill. In a place of honor on the wall behind him, Ean displayed an oil painting of Freedom Park, created by Ms. Helen. The office also housed a laptop computer, ink-jet printer, two bookcases, and a couple of black metal filing cabinets.

Alonzo brought his attention back to Ean. “I’ve known your mother for a very long time.”

“I know.” Ean rested his elbows on the arms of his chair and linked his fingers together. The younger man studied Alonzo as though trying to read his mind. “You were friends in high school.”

“I was friends with your father, too.” Alonzo shifted in his seat. “Paul was a very good man, a very good friend.”

“Yes, he was.” Ean’s tone was patient, belying the curiosity in his eyes.

“I’ve loved your mother since college.” Alonzo’s pulse was beating so hard he could barely hear himself. “But she was happy with your father. And her happiness was all that mattered.”

“You’re a good man, too, Alonzo, and a good friend.”

Alonzo swallowed to ease his dry throat. He needed Ean to understand. “I’ll always respect your father, and Doreen’s and your memories of him.”

“I appreciate that. I’m sure my mother does, too.”

“I know I could never replace him. I wouldn’t even try—”

“Alonzo, say what’s on your mind.”

He gripped the arms of the leather guest chair. His palms felt slippery against the wood. He drew a deep breath. Then another. He caught and held the younger man’s olive eyes. “I want to ask your mother to marry me. But first, I’d like your blessing. You and your mother are very close. I don’t want to cause any friction between you.”

Ean’s eyes widened. A myriad of expressions shifted across his features: surprise, curiosity, humor. “I should’ve known you were old-fashioned.”

“What does that mean?” Tension knotted the muscles in Alonzo’s shoulders. He’d imagined a variety of reactions. This wasn’t one of them.

“It’s not a bad thing.” Ean held up one hand. “I just meant I shouldn’t be surprised you asked for my blessing.”

“I love your mother very much, Ean. She’s intelligent, caring. She has a big heart.”

“And she’s beautiful.”

“Yes, she is.” Images of Doreen swept through his memories: her flapper costume from the Halloween celebration, the dress she’d worn to church Sunday, the sweats she wore around the house, her cream negligee . . .

Dammit, am I blushing?
He shifted in his seat again. “I would be the happiest man on the planet if Doreen agreed to be my wife.”

Ean sobered. “You’ve made my mother very happy, Alonzo. Like you said, that’s all that matters. Of course you have my blessing.”

“Thank you.” Relief made Alonzo light-headed.

“When are you going to propose?”

“I’m not sure yet.” One hurdle down, another to go. But the second was the biggest he’d ever faced. “I wanted to wait until after the election, when she’d have more time to relax and think about our future.”

“Good idea.” Ean nodded. “It’s been a week since the election. That should be enough time.”

“I never dreamed I’d have this chance. I want the proposal to be special.” Alonzo rose. His legs were shaky with relief.

Ean stood, too. “You’re setting the bar really high for Quincy, Jack, and me.”

“Megan, Ramona, and Audra are special ladies.”

“They are.” Ean offered Alonzo his hand. “I’m sure you’ll continue to make my mother very happy. But if you ever hurt her, I’ll find you.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Ean released Alonzo’s hand and stepped back. “Good luck, although you won’t need it.”

“Thanks.” Alonzo inclined his head, then turned to leave.

Actually, he could use all the luck he could get. What could he say or do to help Doreen realize he didn’t want to replace Paul? He wanted them to build a future of their own.