“Sometimes.”
His brows shot up.
“I work most Saturdays, so I’ve missed a lot of games.” At his scandalized expression, I hurried to add, “We usually have the radio tuned to Wildcats football, so everyone in the shop can cheer for the team.”
“That’s something, I guess. Not the same as being there in person where the guys on the field can hear you.” His brows came together. “You were one of our best cheerleaders in high school. I thought you loved the game.”
“I do love the game. But I also love a roof over my head.” Pulling a face, I added, “My scholarship only covers tuition and fees. With the three of us girls in college all at once, we all have to pitch in to help pay our rent.” I shrugged. “Football is cool and all, but I’m not going to pass up a shift that doubles my tips to see a game.”
I didn’t bother to add that the most fun I’d ever had watching football was when Danny played for the Central Valley Scarlets.
He rested his forearms on his knees. “You’re saying that after I make the team, you’re not going to watch me play?”
“You sound a touch cocky there, Ace,” I said over the rim of my glass. Then I pulled an ice cube into my mouth to keep from giving myself away by saying something stupid like “If you’re on the field, I’ll have season tickets.”
Clasping his hands between his knees, he shot me a smirk. “There is no question I’ll make the team, T.”
With a smile I said, “Messing with you, Danny.”
Before he could respond, my dad pulled into the driveway and parked his twenty-year-old Chevy pickup. Reaching into the back seat, he hefted his golf bag and stepped around the front of his truck. Only then did he pay attention to the two people on his front deck, and a grin broke over his face.
“Hello, stranger. Back for good, are you?” Dad slid his worn golf bag off his shoulder to thunk on the boards of the deck and reached a hand out to Danny who stood to take it.
“Yes, sir, Mr.Hamilton. The Air Force and I split up a couple days ago.”
Both of them grinned at his joke.
“You look the part, but I don’t know if I’m convinced those flyboys made a man of you. Not like the Army would have, anyway.”
They exchanged another grin at Dad’s opening salvo in their running rivalry over which service branch was superior.
Shaking my head, I mumbled, “You two are ridiculous.”
Dad put a hand to his ear. “What was that, Sweet Pea?”
My eyes rolled like marbles in my head. Why my parents had decided to revive that old nickname I thought we’d put to rest when I graduated high school, I had no idea. Then I glanced over at Danny’s twinkling silver-gray eyes and decided maybe I had a clue after all. Having him here was like old times, complete with all the feelings I’d worked for years to stamp out.
“How was your game?” I asked.
“We just knocked some balls around on the driving range on the public course. I’m still rusty.” Turning back to Danny, Dad asked, “You’re staying for dinner, right?”
“No way am I missing Mrs.H’s chicken enchiladas—even though Taryn plans to hoard them all.”
I hissed indignation, and both of them laughed.
“I’d better head in and clean up then, make sure I’m ready to referee.” Dad chuckled at his lame joke, shouldered his golf bag, and headed into the house.
Since the first time I’d brought him home, my parents had been taken with Danny. Not that I could blame them. With his gorgeous looks and Southern charm—he’d spent his formative years in North Carolina—he drew people to him like bears to honey. Being good at Dad’s favorite sport meant the two of them talked football like a religion. Cleaning his plate of every last morsel of Mom’s food made him her favorite dinner guest. My older sister, Tally, mainly treated him with an air of bemusement. Probably her response reflected her having been out of the house for two years before he hit town, so she hadn’t been around him much. Tina, my younger sister, vacillated between hero worship for his football prowess and torturing him as though it were her right as a younger sibling, what with all the brotherly vibes flowing off him.
In other words, Danny fit right in with my family. I was the only one who couldn’t get it right with him.
?Chapter Two
?Danny
Jesus. Taryn woreme out with her long, tanned legs in her ass-hugging shorts. The way her well-worn T-shirt lovingly draped her curves left me jealous of a piece of cloth. Sitting there in the dappled sunlight of a summer’s afternoon, she was effortlessly radiant, even more stunning than she had been when I’d come home on leave for Christmas. Of course, then she was all starry-eyed over that douchebag boyfriend I thought I’d lost her to.
Even with the shadows edging her electric-blue eyes, Taryn Hamilton stole my breath away.
