Mistletoe Match-Up (Romancing Wisconsin #3) (7 page)

Her vehicle took a couple tries to start and Derek could tell it needed work. Sounded like the alternator. And she needed a new muffler. Had she replaced the bald tires?

The tires spun in the snow before catching enough to inch the car from its parking spot. His fists and jaw clenched with the obvious answer. Stupid little prideful fool was going to get herself killed.

****

After lunch the next day, Derek eased his Chevy to a stop alongside a tow truck backed up to a familiar maroon four-door parked on East Pulaski Street. He flipped on his flashers so other cars would drive around and rolled down the passenger side window. “Hey, Chad, how’s it going?”

Chad Hansen glanced up through the falling snowflakes and gave a quick grin before concentrating back on his job. “Hey, Derek. I could complain about all this snow we’ve been getting lately, but the truth is, it’s good for business.”

“I bet. How’re Rebecca and the baby doing?”

“Rebecca’s good, but Amy’s got us both operating on a lot less sleep these days. Other than that, things are great. What about you—anything new?”

“Not really.”

The mention of Chad’s two-week old baby reminded Derek of how much fun he’d had playing with Eric and Marissa’s twins on Christmas day. Standing in their living room, gazing up at Evan’s drooling, one-tooth smile, the fleeting wonder of what it would be like to hold his own child in his arms had startled his heartbeat into an unsteady rhythm. From the corner of his eye he’d caught Lisa’s smile toward him and the baby, and the pounding catapulted into overdrive.

His hands gripped the steering wheel. For crying out loud, he’d kissed the woman
once
under the mistletoe. Even a brief flash-thought of having babies with her was one hell of a colossal leap.

A wry smile tugged at his mouth, and he rubbed his chest. He could tell her exactly what he’d thought and never have to worry about it again. She’d deck him first and ask questions later—if she ever came back again.

Chad flipped the lever to raise the car’s front end off the ground and Derek gave himself a mental shake. He had other things to concentrate on besides Lisa Riley—like raising the most money and winning their competition.

“There is one thing new,” Derek said to Chad. “I’m fundraising for Janelle’s animal rescue—”

Chad held up a hand, his smile apologetic as he secured the vehicle for its ride. “You’re about fifteen minutes too late, buddy, I already donated to the lodge. Sorry.”

“Let me guess, Lisa Riley?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I recognize the car. Is she finally getting some new tires put on?”

“No, the alternator’s shot. I’m just towing it out to her dad’s place.” Chad bent to inspect the wheel closest to him. “Oh, yeah, with these tires I could be talking to her again before the end of the week.”

“She didn’t say anything about replacing them?”

“Nope.”

An idea formed in Derek’s mind as Chad glanced at his watch. “Listen, Rebecca’s parents are coming for dinner tonight, and I want to get home early in case I get any calls later. You’ll be at the New Year’s bash, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you there.” Derek drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, then leaned across the seat toward the open window. “Hey—hold up. You got time to take the car to the garage first and put on a new set of tires?”

Halfway into the driver’s seat, Chad turned and frowned back at him. “I can’t do something like that without her permission.”

“She’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Right. Problem is, I’m not replacing a ten dollar set of windshield wipers.”

“I’ll cover ‘em. In fact, since it’s on your way home, throw a new alternator and a muffler in the back seat and tow it to my house after you’ve got the tires done.” Derek could help her out and do those repairs for free, but the main thing was, a day or two without her car would give him an advantage in the fundraising drive.

“You’re serious?”

He nodded.

A wide grin spread across Chad’s face. “Ah, I get it. Someone’s looking to be
very
much appreciated.”

“Shut up, man, it’s not like that.”

“Whatever you say. Have fun.”

Warmth spread up Derek’s neck into his face and he was thankful for the shadows in his truck. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Hansen.”

Chad’s chuckle cut off when he slammed the tow truck door, but he was still smiling as Derek pulled away. On the drive back to school, he realized his protest had been too strong. Then again, who cared what Chad thought? If hijacking her car helped him win the fundraiser challenge against Lisa, he had no problem dealing with Chad’s misconceptions later. A voice inside scoffed,
yeah, sure, it’s all about the fundraiser.

By the end of the afternoon, Lisa still ruled his thoughts, but it had nothing to do with her car or the fundraiser. He’d conducted his last interview for the coaching job right after lunch and made his decision. While Lisa was adequately qualified, this last applicant had the necessary experience should Katherine Collett decide to confirm rumors she wouldn’t return after her surgery.

Much as he wanted to give Lisa the job, he had to make a professional decision based on what would be best for the team and the school. Only now he had to explain that to Lisa. It made sense, he knew, but when he practiced the words out loud, they ended up sounding like excuses. Knowing she needed the job made it even worse.

When his grandpa showed up after the boys’ basketball practice and suggested a game of one on one, Derek jumped at the chance for a physical outlet to release his tension. He spent the next hour getting his butt beat by a sixty-three year old man.

Butch slipped by and lined up another shot.
Swish
. “Come on, son, wake up!”

“Sorry, Grandpa, my mind’s not really in the game.”

“Ya don’t say.” Butch dribbled the ball in front of Derek, switching from one hand to the other with practiced ease. He flicked a glance beyond Derek, smiled, then bent low as if preparing to make a play. “What’s got yer head in the clouds?”

“It’s not—”

“
Derek Walsh.
”

Derek spun around and received a basketball right in the gut. “
Oof!”
He made a reflex grab for the ball. Half doubled over, he stared at Lisa’s furious expression.
Shit
. Somehow she’d found out she hadn’t gotten the job before he could call her—

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

He straightened carefully, holding the ball in front of him for protection. “Let me explain—”

Her glare threatened to cut him in half. “I don’t want your explanation, and I certainly don’t want your damn tires!”

This was about her
car
?
Damn.
That meant he still had to tell her about the job.

“I am not some charity case in need of your donations.”

This time a virtual hard ball smacked him upside the head. Of course! After telling him not to give her the job out of pity, he should’ve realized she’d go through the roof when she found out about her car.

“It had nothing to do with charity.”

“Save it. You had no right to do what you did without asking me first. I want my car back
and
my old tires!”

He lowered the ball a few inches. “For someone as smart as you, driving around on snow and ice with bald tires is just plain stupid.”

Her fists clenched at her sides. “
Bite me
.”

The taunt hung between them. Her unflinching gaze dared him to follow through with the threat he’d made at the wedding. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do a darn thing with his grandpa watching, and she knew it.

Butch cleared his throat. “I’m gonna get goin’ home fer supper. Good game, Derek—better luck next time.”

Derek gave Lisa a predatory smile. “Night, Grandpa.”

“G’night, Ms. Riley.”

She glanced toward his grandpa, and Derek loved the fact that her smile wobbled.

“Good night, Mr. Walsh.”

Accompanied by a merry little whistle, Butch’s footsteps squeaked across the floor, paused when he picked up his gym bag, and continued to the door. Derek bounced the ball back and forth much like his grandpa had, staring Lisa down the entire time, remembering the mistletoe kiss.

The moment the door clicked shut, he caught the ball in both hands. “The tires are to keep you safe, nothing else.”

Liar,
his conscience whispered. But some truth in his spoken words resonated in his chest. Her safety
was
at the heart of this, and his thoughts concerning the fundraising challenge had been a convenient way to camouflage his concern and justify his actions.

Lisa snorted in disbelief. “Cut the crap—as if you care so much.”

“Aw, but I do,” he joked to hide his unsettling revelation. “Without you around, I have no one to drive me crazy.”

Her eyes narrowed a split second before she snatched the ball from his grasp. Dodging left, she took a shot but didn’t wait to see if she’d made it before facing him. “I am not—”
swish
“—keeping the tires.”

“Not even as a loan?”

“Nope.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll buy my own when I’ve saved enough money. Which reminds me—any word on the job yet?”

Shit
. His gaze slid to where the ball came to a rest against the bleachers. “I was going to call you…”

“I didn’t get the job.”

The disappointment in her voice made it difficult to force his gaze to hers. “I’m sorry, but we needed someone with experience. Katherine’s been talking about retiring, and—”

“You don’t have to explain your decision to me. From the players’ side, believe me, I understand. No big deal—it was a long shot anyway.” A hard swallow contradicted the careless statement, but she faced him head on. “I don’t want your pity or your charity, not even in the form of a loan. I can take care of myself.”

Good for her, but no way he’d return the old tires. He’d rather have her pissed off and safe, than hurt and her pride intact. He brushed past to retrieve the basketball. “You’re a stubborn fool.”

He bent to pick up the ball and heard her footsteps head for the opposite doors leading to the parking lot. Her desire to prove she could handle things on her own would be admirable if the way she went about it wasn’t so…
stupid
.

His splayed fingers tightened on the basketball when inspiration struck. “I’ll play you for them.”

When she looked back, he aimed and shot from beyond the three point line. Her gaze followed the ball all the way through the net before returning to Derek.
Ah hah
—he had her attention.

“Why would I play you for tires I don’t want?” she asked.

“You win, I’ll have Chad put your old ones back on. I win, you keep the new ones.” He scooped up the ball and walked toward her. A quick pass caught her slightly off guard. “No skin off my back—unless you don’t think you can beat me, Big Shot.”

She balanced the ball against her side, between her hip and forearm. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Then shut me up.” Palms up, he crooked his fingers and grinned. “Come on, baby, show me what you got.”

She rolled her eyes again, but this time a reluctant laugh escaped. “Oh, God, stop.”

Hands on his hips, he advanced on her. “Alright, then, let me put it to you this way—you play…or I bite.” He won that one either way.

Color tinged her cheeks. She rolled the ball in front of her and held it between them. “It wouldn’t be a fair game in my jeans.”

“I’ve got extra shorts and a tee shirt in the locker room. Red bag, right on the bench.”

“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?” She raised the ball and pushed it against his chest, halting his advance. But an undeniable spark of interest lit her eyes.

“You gonna go get changed, or do you need some help?”

“I can dress myself, thank you.” She shoved against the ball, sending him back a step before she spun toward the locker rooms.

“I’m better at undressing anyway,” he called after her.

Her laugh bounced off the walls. She shook her head and stripped off her winter coat to toss it onto the bleachers before disappearing through the door.

Derek figured a little practice was in order while she changed, but he became so distracted imagining her stepping out of those jeans in the deserted men’s locker room that he missed more shots than he made.

A loud snort brought him around the next time the ball bounced off the rim and out. Her long curls now pulled back into a messy ponytail, Lisa straightened from the locker room doorway while he retrieved the ball.

“This will be like taking candy from a baby.”

Derek’s grip tightened on the rubber ball in his hands. If he was the baby, she was the candy he wanted. She shouldn’t look sexy in his baggy shorts and oversized tee-shirt hanging past her hips. She should feel self-conscious, but instead she strode toward him with a cocky swagger that put him back a good ten years.

“Play to fifteen or twenty one?” he asked.