Out of Her League (34 page)

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Authors: Lori Handeland

BOOK: Out of Her League
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Thanks.

They stared at each other.
Now what?

Joe stepped closer
, tilted his head down in a con
spiratorial manner, and Evie did the same.


I talked to her,

he said.


Mmm?

Evie murmured an encouragement.


I don

t think I got through completely, but she seems to have gotten the main point. How about you?

Evie wasn

t sure how to answer that. Adam had said he would not make his mother

s mistake, and from his vehemence, she believed he

d meant that. But he

d also said he wanted to be less responsible, more of a kid. Not
an encouraging statement to re
peat to the very large and intimidating father who waited for an answer.


I talked to him,

she said, hoping that would be enough.


And?

It wasn

t enough. Brownie point for him.

He knows my opinion.

Joe grunted.

So what do we do?


We continue to be good parents.


How

s that?


Watch them like hawks. Promises are easy to make.


And tough to keep.

She raised her eyebrows.

You

re starting to get the hang of this dad thing.

His smile was both joyous and rueful.

I think so.


Mom!

The twins hit her in the knees. She slammed into Joe

s chest. The impact made it difficult to breathe, since the man was built like a brick. He caught her
by the elbows before she bounced off and landed on her backside. That would have been lovely. Then he set her on her feet and held her arms a moment too long.

As his size and h
is scent enveloped her, Evie re
sisted the urge to fold herself into his arms. Joe made her feel physically safe and emotionally in jeopardy. The combination drove her crazy.

So instead of crawling into his embrace, Evie stepped back, out of reach but not out of range. She pushed her bangs out of her eyes, and her hand shook. Jeez, she had it bad.

He cocked his head.

You all right?


Yeah.


Do those two always love you to death?


Every chance they get.

She turned around, and discovered Toni held one boy by each hand. The three of them had their heads together and were whispering furiously. Evie frowned.

What

s going on?

Toni glanced up, and an emotion Evie couldn

t quite place crossed her face, then disappeared,
leaving
Evie with a sense of unease.

The twins grinned and launched themselves at her again, but Toni yanked them back.

Can Toni and Joe watch the fireworks with us? Can they, huh?

Evie tensed. No help for it now. To say no would be rude. But the thought of watching the fireworks while she shared her blanket with Joe Scalotta made her twitchy. The quilt she

d
brought would defi
nitely not be big enough for five.


Sure,

she said.

No problem.

The twins jumped into the air with a whoop and a holler, then gave each other a high five. They missed hands and smacked Toni in the stomach. Benji looked at Danny; Danny looked at Benji. They took off running before Toni got her breath back.


Hey!

She chased them around center field.

Evie and Joe
chuckled and watched in compan
ionable silence.


She really is great with them,

Evie observed.


Yeah. Amazing, since she

s never had any brothers or sisters. You

d think they

d drive her nuts.


They do me. But they

re kind of cute to the untrained eye. Devious—like puppies.


Puppies? Aren

t they always cute?

She snorted.

You

d think so. Until they go on the rug. Or bark at midnight and again at dawn. Chew up the coffee table, your taupe pumps and the only copy of a Health 4 final exam.


You

ve had a dog?


Nope. But I have a very good imagination.


Really?

She glanced at him, only to find his gaze on her, warm and curious enough to make her heart leap. Did he know how good her imagination was? And that lately it had been occupied mainly with him—naked?

He winked at her and rocked back on his heels.

So the twins do a lot of table chewing, do they?

She laughed.

Are you always so literal?


Not always.

The way he spoke made Evie wonder how good
his
imagination was and how it had been occupied since their last evening together.


Where

s the best place around here to watch the fireworks?

he asked.


I

ve already staked my claim. Years of testing have revealed the t
op spot for optimum viewing ca
pacity.


You

re a professional, I see.


In more ways than one, buster.

His gaze wandered over her once more.

I
’ve no
ticed that.

This was fun.
“Flattery will get you every
where.


Promise?

Evie just smiled and called to the kids.

Guys, time to eat.

That brought the herd at a run, which saved her the trouble of answering questions she wasn

t cer
tain of herself.

 

 

Joe
hadn't had
so much fun since he showed his Super Bowl ring to the president. He didn

t want the day to end. He felt at home, part of a community, part of a family.

The day, from eating fried chicken in the sun, to buying the twins ice cream that melted down their faces, arms and le
gs, then taking them to the por
table toilets to wash off, couldn

t have been more perfect. As the sun set
, and kids started tossing fluo
rescent necklaces in pickup games of horseshoes and keep-away, he sat h
ip to hip with Evie, a pink lem
onade in his hand and a silly grin on his face. This was definitely the life.


You seem happy,

she said.

He glanced at her. She looked so pretty in her festive outfit, her great legs folded beneath her and one of those luminescent circles on her head. Joe wanted to kiss her, right there in front of God and Oak Grove. He wanted it badly enough that he inched to the edge of the blanket. Sometimes what he felt for her snuck up and scared him to death.


I am happy.

He gazed out over the crowd with a sigh of contentment.

I love it here. Oak Grove is so much like the town where I grew up. One state north, but a whole lot the same.

A band started playing in the gazebo. Big-band music, strains of a t
ime long gone but not quite for
gotten.

Joe

s parents had often gone dancing. In those days people knew how to dance—together. His mother had taught all her boys, insisting they would be grateful one day. Thus far he didn

t think any of them had found much use for the waltz or the fox trot, though the polka had come in handy during college beer parties.

Closing his eyes, Joe remembered how he and his brothers would huddle at the top of the stairs and watch his parents push back the couch and coffee table, then dance around and around the living room.
 
They

d looked graceful—Mom so lovely and Dad so handsome—deeply in love for always. They would laugh and kiss, then hold hands and come upstairs.

Joe hadn

t realized until right this moment how those Saturday night dances had assured him and his brothers of the rock-solid sturdiness of their parents

love—for each other, their children and the life they had built together. As long as his parents danced on Saturday night, all was right with the world.

Joe opened his eyes, swallowed his last sip of lemonade and stood.

Let

s dance.

He held out a hand to Evie.

Her eyes widened, and she stared at his hand as if it had sprouted a snake

s head.

I don

t dance.

He hauled her to her feet.

You do now.

She protested all the way to the cement circle in front of the bandstand, where older couples moved in perfect time to the slow beat.

Joe stepped onto the dance floor and pulled Evie into his arms. She stumbled into his chest and stomped all over his feet.

Sorry,

she mumbled, though she didn

t sound sorry at all.

She came up to his collarbone, and if he leaned down just so, he could rest his cheek against her hair. She smelled like summer and sunshine.

Just follow my lead,

he whispered.


I

ll have to.


It

s easy. Listen to the music. Feel the beat. The
box step goes... Step together, back together, side together, front together. That

s it, keep going.


Who are you—Arthur Murray?


I

ve always fancied myself Fred Astaire. The man had grace.


And class.


Mmm-hmm.

Evie caught on quick, and as she did, she relaxed in his arms. Joe hadn

t danced like this since he

d left home. The combination of the music, and the night, and the scent of her had Joe tingling like a teenager.


Did you ever think that if people could dance the way they used to, the world might move back toward an age of innocence?

She looked into his face.

You certainly are a dreamer.


Or a hopeless romantic.


Hopeless, for sure.

He sighed and tugged her closer.

Too bad, huh?

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