Starting Over at Lane's End (Harlequin Heartwarming) (12 page)

Chapter Sixteen

“A
ND
NOW
...I
BRING
you...the Lane’s End Lions!”

The gymnasium walls practically shook as the crowd roared to their feet. Chants and whistles blew as the team entered the gymnasium one member at a time.

After a full minute of applause, Coach Jackson began calling out the starting lineup. Each player stepped forward as the crowd chanted his name.

After standing up and sitting down for about the tenth time, Dave looked at Cary. “This pep rally is nuts! If we have to stand up one more time to sing the fight song, my knees are going to give out.”

“Mine, too. All our years of running are taking a toll.”

As if on cue, the band started playing again. The crowd dutifully got to their feet, Dave grunting with the effort. As the Lions’ mascot raced out, the fans’ shouts reached a higher decibel. “This is crazy!” Dave exclaimed.

Cary had to agree. Not only was the whole student body there, but a large segment of the general population was in attendance to cheer on the Lions, too. Everyone stood together, shoulder to shoulder, waving bright gold-and-black pennants and signs. The band played, the cheerleaders screamed, the crowd whistled and yelled for all they were worth.

Cary figured there was only one person present who wasn’t firmly gripped by Lion pride: Gen Slate.

She was easy to spot in the crowd. Clad in her blue uniform, she stood by the main entrance, her mouth conspicuously shut, her eyes continuously scanning the crowd.

She was on duty today to keep the peace. From her strained expression, Cary thought it was pretty obvious that peace was fairly hard to come by. Every few minutes she’d speak into a walkie-talkie. A couple of times, she directed the cheerleaders to stand back or asked people to leave the exits free.

Noticing the direction of his gaze, Dave nudged him. “Officer Slate doesn’t look like much of a basketball fan,” he said. “I haven’t seen her smile yet.”

“I think she likes basketball fine. I have a feeling everything else is making her crazy.”

“It could be worse. From my point of view, the event looks fairly organized.”

Cary had to agree. The pep rally was loud and chaotic, but it was basically under tight control. “At least Jimmy and Brian are behaving themselves,” Cary said, nodding to the two star forwards.

“They couldn’t be any farther apart and still be on the same team,” Dave joked.

That was true. Jimmy and Brian were doing their best to stay a good ten feet from each other. Brian also seemed to be keeping a careful eye on Melissa.

At the moment, Missy was holding a large foam board with the word
ROCK
painted on it, while the band played the perennial Queen favorite “We Will Rock You.”

Dave clapped along. “I gotta tell you, I feel as happy as the kids. When was the last time we had a day off for a sporting event?”

That answer was easy. “Never.”

“You going to the game tomorrow? Wilmington’s about an hour north.”

“It’s the final game in the division championship to decide who’s going to state. Of course I’ll be there.”

“Taking Gen?”

“If she wants to go.”

When the crowd quieted down so Coach Jackson could speak, Cary focused on Gen again. Though she’d probably say he was crazy, he admired how the uniform did incredible things for her figure.

He felt almost proprietary as he watched her. Over and over, she spoke to more people, including a six-year-old who wanted to feel the badge clipped to her hip.

She really was a great cop. She commanded authority even though she was smaller than about half the population in the gym.

As two kids stood nearby and joked with her, Cary realized that she’d accomplished one of her objectives since moving to Lane’s End—she’d made friends with a number of the students.

He laughed as a man who blocked the exit faced a very different Gen Slate. She treated him to a glare that would make anyone shake in his boots.

On closer inspection, Cary realized he knew the guy she was chewing out—one of his father’s parishioners. Gene Clancy was probably going to think twice before crossing Officer Gen Slate again.

Later that afternoon, after the Lions roared to victory and had officially made it to the finals, the crowds disappeared and the cleanup was well under way, Cary walked Gen out.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” she said.

“I wanted to.”

“I’m glad.” Her eyes sparkling in the bright sunshine as they exited the gym, she said, “I’m getting used to seeing you all the time.”

“Me, too.” He couldn’t resist slipping his hand down her arm, finally linking her fingers with his. “Where are you off to now?”

“I have a gardening lesson.”

He didn’t even try to hide his surprise. “Of all the activities I picture you doing, gardening isn’t one of them.”

She laughed. “It’s a long story about how it came about, but Bonnie said she had time to help me today. I’m growing lilies.”

Because he loved to see her smile, he teased her gently. “Growing lilies? Is that police code for something?”

“You’re ridiculous,” she countered, flashing him a beautiful grin. “For your information, I planted Easter lilies...but they’re not doing well. I’m either giving them too much water or not enough. As of right now, they may be dead by Easter instead of blooming prettily.”

Blooming prettily.
“I never pictured you as a gardener.”

“That’s the problem! I’m not.”

He squeezed her hand. “How about I stop by later and check up on those lilies?”

“Now you sound like you’re the one who’s talking in code.”

Pausing at her car door, he said, “Maybe I am. Maybe I want to do more than check out your flowers.”

“Maybe I’ll let you stop by.”

The look in her blue eyes made him step a little closer, wrap his arms around her waist...and press his luck. “Tomorrow, how about you let me take you to the game? It’s a big one—if we win, we’re going to state.”

“What do I get if I say yes?”

“Anything you want.” Grinning, he leaned toward her, moving close enough to smell a hint of lemon. The tangy scent brought up memories of the other evening when he’d rubbed her back.

Gen looked around. “You’re not even thinking of kissing me here, are you?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m in my uniform.”

“So?”

“So? Cary, that would be a mistake. That would—”

“Be a really good idea,” he said quickly.

After all, Cary Hudson might be Lane’s End High’s favorite teacher. He might have been a preacher’s son. He might have been known to have the patience of a saint. But he’d never been one to run from a challenge.

As their lips met, he ran a hand along her back, loving how right she felt in his arms, how she responded to him, as though what was happening between them was almost too good to be true.

Laughter in the distance pulled them apart.

“I’ll come by soon,” he said, trying not to let Gen see how much their kiss had affected him, but he was sure he wasn’t fooling her for a second. “I’ll bring Sludge.”

“Can’t...wait.” She looked dazed.

He nuzzled her cheek. “We can order in. I’ll look at your flowers...your lilies.”

Gen looked as if she’d forgotten what lilies were.

Just as Cary turned away, he spied two teenagers from his third-period class. “Hi, Kylie. Jason.”

Kylie blushed. “Mr. Hudson.”

Because they were still staring at him in surprise, he said, “It was a great pep rally, wasn’t it?”

Jason laughed. “For some more than others.”

Cary couldn’t resist agreeing as he unlocked his car.

* * *

A
N
HOUR
LATER
, G
EN
stood next to Bonnie and surveyed her four pots filled with
lilies. “What do you think?”

Bonnie examined each leaf as though she were the lead detective in a crime lab. Gen found herself holding her breath as she waited to hear the results.

“They’re still alive.”

Only she would get a landlady who had a real affinity for sarcasm. “Bonnie, even I can tell that. How are they
doing?
Do you think they’ll bloom by Easter?”

With a frown, Bonnie stuck a finger in the dirt before rubbing her fingers together. “Maybe.”

“I’d hate it if they died before then.”

“That would be a real shame.”

Oh, good grief. Bonnie might as well have been speaking Greek. So far she hadn’t said one meaningful thing. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Oh, pish. That’s your problem, girl. You’re so impatient. You need to learn to curb that, especially when it comes to gardening.”

“You need to learn to give me simple directions instead of pitying looks.”

“Point taken.” With a deep breath, Bonnie issued her proclamation. “The plants...look good.”

Gen couldn’t believe how happy that made her feel. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. They look so good, in fact, I’m going to let you have a parcel of land right here next to this old oak, where you can design a garden and plant something.”

Bonnie’s gift was unexpected.

“Get Cary to come out here and help dig and till the soil if need be,” Bonnie continued. “He’s got a good set of muscles.”

“I can dig and till by myself,” Gen retorted.

Bonnie started laughing. “Oh, honey. Why would you want to?” She handed her a spade right before she glanced toward Sadie. “That blasted beagle. Look what she’s doing, Genevieve.”

Gen wished she hadn’t since what she saw was disappointing.

Sadie was currently nosing the twenty-pound bag of birdseed Bonnie had bought on sale and Gen had carried to the backyard. Actually,
nosing
was putting it mildly. Sadie had ripped a three-inch hole in the sack and was currently trying to fit her whole snout and two paws into it.

“Sadie!” Bonnie called out—as if Sadie would listen. “Stop!”

Sadie didn’t.

“If you don’t, I’m going to tan your hide.”

As Sadie ingested a mouthful of seed and chomped down hard, it was extremely evident she couldn’t have cared less about Gen’s embarrassment.

Bonnie scowled. “That dog is no good.”

“She really is a good dog. She’s just ruled by her stomach.”

Sadie tilted her head as she judged the taste of the seed. Deciding she enjoyed it, she wagged her tail and dug in for more.

“I guess she’s fond of sunflower seeds,” Gen said.

“She’s fond of anything that sits still long enough,” Bonnie said with a frown. “You deal with her.”

Gen obeyed. “Sadie, you come here now!” she yelled. When Sadie obediently trotted over, Gen turned to Bonnie. “I’ll clean up this mess. Thanks for the land, too—I just might use it.”

“It would be for you. Not her.” Looking madder than a wet hen, Bonnie tromped inside.

Mentally Gen added plastic containers for the birdseed to her grocery list when her cell phone rang.

“I’m picking you up at eight tomorrow morning. We’re taking you out to breakfast,” Christy said cryptically.

“Huh?”

“It’s tradition.”

“I’ll be ready,” Gen said right as Christy clicked off.

“Ready for what?” Cary asked from the fence by the driveway.

Pleased to see him, she pointed to her phone. “Christy just invited me out to breakfast tomorrow.”

Cary looked as if that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “Did she now? Well, you should have a good time.”

“You sound suspicious. What do you know that I don’t?”

“Enough.”

Like a kid, he hopped the fence before stepping out of the way to let a patient Sludge in through the gate. Sadie barked in greeting.

As the dogs started chasing each other and destroying even more of the birdseed sack, Cary strode to her side. “Are these your lilies?”

“Yep.”

“They look good.”

“Oh, stop. They just look green.”

“Actually, I’d say everything looks very good.”

With a start, Gen noticed he was no longer looking at plants. Nope, instead it seemed Cary only had eyes for her.

Gen felt as if a jumble of bees had come out to play in her stomach. All the feelings that had sprung up during their last kiss had surfaced again, making her feel wonderful and excited and nervous.

All she could think about was the feel of his lips.

“So...I’ve looked at your plants.”

Indeed he had. “And you brought Sludge to play.”

He glanced at their beagles. Now Sludge was doing his best to eat more seed than Sadie. “They seem happy.” Pulling her close, he said, “Now I get what I want.”

“Which is?”

“You, Gen Slate. All I want to do at this very moment is kiss you again.”

“Thank goodness. It feels as if it’s been forever.”

Cary grinned just before he claimed her mouth one more time. “You’re right. At least an hour.”

Chapter Seventeen

“I
FEEL
LIKE
I’m back in high school,” Gen said to the four women she was sitting at the table with at the Waffle Shack on Main.

“You are, in a way,” Christy countered.

“I suppose, though only until this vandalism case is solved.”

“That’s true, but we like you anyway.” Christy soaked up a piece of French toast in a pond of butter and syrup before replying, “You should feel special—we don’t kidnap just every new girl.”

“Do you always pick up your guests two hours early?”

The women looked at each other and smiled. “Always.”

Remembering how shocked she’d been to see Christy, Jill, Monique and Beth surrounding her bed, Gen shook her head. “I can’t believe you got in without Sadie or me knowing about it.”

Monique winked. “Bonnie helped with Sadie.”

“We love that we put one over on a cop.” Christy grinned. “Come on, admit it, this is fun, don’t you think?”

It had been fun, from the time the women had appeared at her house at six this morning, to the giggles they’d shared when Bonnie had yelled out the window to settle down as they got on their way to the Waffle Shack.

But Gen wasn’t quite ready to give in so easily. “Oh, it’s been terrific—if you forget about the fact that I’m out in public in pajama bottoms, a sweatshirt and no makeup.”

Jill put down her coffee cup. “Of course you had to bring that up. We took a vote and have decided that we don’t like you anymore. No one should look so good first thing in the morning.”

Gen laughed. “Thanks.”

The conversation rolled on. Before she knew it, Gen was commenting on reality TV shows, the newest celebrity gossip, how to make the best banana bread and the chances of Lane’s End actually winning the state championship.

All the women seemed interested in what she had to say and, even more special, were talking as if this morning was the first of many breakfasts to be shared.

Gen was loving every minute of it.

She didn’t know why she was so surprised. Maybe because she’d always assumed most other girls had a secret club that she couldn’t be a part of?

How wrong she’d been! And how she couldn’t wait to call Margaret and tell her what she’d been doing. Though she had a feeling her sister would say the morning sounded exactly like something Gen would enjoy, she had a feeling her sister would also be sensitive enough to comment on how good it had been for Gen to venture even further from her self-imposed shell.

Later, after their dishes were cleared away and a third pot of coffee consumed, all four women peered at Gen regretfully.

“Here’s the part where we make you pay for the meal,” Beth said, not a gleam of humor in her eyes.

It was a small price to pay for everything she’d gained. “Okay.”

The girls whooped it up again. “We’re teasing.” Jill laughed. “We’d never make you buy breakfast.”

“Unless you want to twist our arms,” Christy said.

“I’d pay for breakfast if it means we can get together again,” Gen said, meaning every word.

Monique squeezed her hand. “That goes without saying.”

“Well, then, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Monique replied before turning to the others with an exaggerated grimace. “It’s really too bad Cary couldn’t see you like this, all dressed up in your bedtime finery. He wouldn’t know what hit him.”

“Cary and I have gotten pretty close...but not this close,” she said, fingering her T-shirt.

“You two have looked pretty close to me,” Jill said. “Monique and I saw you two kissing in the parking lot.”

Gen hadn’t counted on an audience. “You saw us?”

“
Everyone
saw you.”

Gen grimaced. “I thought most people had already gone home.”

“Even if someone had wanted to give you privacy, it would’ve been practically impossible to do—considering Cary looked like he was holding on to you for dear life.”

Beth nudged Jill as she teased, “Was it a life-or-death matter, Gen? Were you giving him mouth-to-mouth?”

Gen blushed. “I don’t know what happened. Some things between us get intense. One minute I’m talking to Cary, the next I’m kissing him like there’s no tomorrow.”

Christy whistled. “No tomorrow, huh?”

Monique fanned herself. “Ooh, honey. You’ve got it bad.”

“I...well, all things being equal, please don’t tell him I sleep with a mouth guard.”

Beth’s eyes twinkled. “We wouldn’t dare.”

Gen pointed at her dog pajamas, the ones she’d bought when Sadie was a puppy. They also happened to be frayed at the edges and two inches too short. “Better not mention these, either.”

Christy raised three fingers in a mock salute. “Scout’s honor.”

“And—”

“Don’t say another word, Gen,” Cary called from behind her. “Take it from me—these ladies already have enough ammunition to make my life a nightmare.”

“Oh, come on, Cary,” Monique whined. “We were just getting started.”

He lifted one brow significantly.

Gen closed her eyes in mortification. Like an old Bugs Bunny cartoon character, she turned her head slowly, hoping that she’d just imagined what was really happening. No such luck.

There was Cary, standing a mere four feet behind her, looking good, as always, in faded jeans and a worn button-down shirt.

It was too bad he looked as if he was about to crack up. And why not? Every woman who had kidnapped her was practically on the floor laughing.

Gen was completely embarrassed. “Please tell me you didn’t hear this conversation.”

“I can’t do that.”

Mentally she reviewed everything she’d just tossed out of her mouth like trash from a fast-food restaurant. Kissing? No tomorrow? Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Mouth guard?”

“Heard that.”

“Pajamas?”

His gaze ran over her like a hit-and-run. “Yep.”

She gave in to curiosity. “Kissing?”

“I listened real closely to that part.” As the women at the table giggled, he pointed out, “It did have to do with me, you know.”

Everything she’d said had to do with him. For weeks he’d been on her mind.

Practically 24-7.

Since she had nothing but pride left, she kicked out a leg. “So what do you think of my pajamas?”

Crouching next to her, he studied the flannel fabric covering her legs. “I love them.”

Gen didn’t know which was more humiliating—that he knew she wore dog pajamas to bed or that he could make her feel completely attractive wearing them.

Right now nothing seemed more appealing than the way he was looking at her, all languid brown eyes and amusement.

“Oh, Cary, you’re in deep trouble,” Christy called out. “She’s got you good.”

Gen begged to differ. She didn’t really
have
him.

But then Cary slid his fingers through hers, linking them, letting her know without a word that he still found her cute. “She does, Christy. It’s the truth.”

Gen gasped.

After a brief squeeze, Cary stood up. “I’m going to get you out of here,” he murmured.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Turning to the women, he said, “We’ll see you later.”

“It’s about time you took her away,” Christy teased.

Leaning in to Cary, Gen whispered, “Did you plan this breakfast?”

He gestured around the tiny diner. “No. If I was going to treat you to breakfast, I’d have done better than this.”

“So you didn’t know they were going to kidnap me?”

“I knew they were going to take you out—at least I hoped they would. This breakfast is an initiation ritual of sorts, and it seems you’ve passed with flying colors. I counted on them taking you to the Waffle Shack. There aren’t too many places that serve breakfast in Lane’s End.”

He chuckled as he grabbed her coat from the rack near the entrance and slipped it around her shoulders. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget your expression when you saw me standing there. Too funny.”

As they walked out the front door, Gen looked back at the women, who were pouring another round of coffee and chatting. Even if Cary hadn’t come to rescue her—and she was very glad he had—she was happy to be part of the club.

Cary opened the front door and slipped an arm around her shoulders as they walked to his SUV. “I’m glad I came when I did. Rumor has it they made Monique go shoe shopping at the mall—for six hours. She said she ended up spending $400 on shoes with four-inch heels. No telling what you would’ve come home with.”

“I couldn’t handle heels like that.”

“I don’t know how anyone could—though, to be honest, I wouldn’t mind seeing those legs of yours in high heels. You’ve got great legs.” He quickly held up a hand. “Sorry, am I being completely chauvinistic?”

She grinned. “A little.”

“Sorry,” he said again, but he didn’t look especially apologetic.

After they hopped in his truck, she turned to him. “So you think I have nice legs?”

“I think you have nice everything.” Before he started the car, he pulled her closer. “I can’t help myself when it comes to you. Every time I see you, I want to hold you close, kiss you senseless.”

She knew that feeling well. As their lips met, she felt his hands glide along her back. She crossed her arms behind his neck and luxuriated in his attention.

Could anyone on earth kiss as well as Cary Hudson?

Gen lost track of time, of where she was and who she was. All she wanted was for the moment to never end.

Cary didn’t seem to care about anything but kissing her. Finally, though, he
pulled away.

He leaned back and buckled up. “I’d better get you home. I’m sure you’d like to shower and get dressed.”

She nodded.

They drove a few miles before he spoke again. “This is probably going to sound ridiculous, but I want you to know I’m serious about you, Gen.”

Once again she was astounded at how Cary could share his feelings so openly. Her insecurities always got the best of her, and she couldn’t bring herself to speak her mind.

She’d learned to censor her emotions growing up with her mom, and her relationship with Keaton had cemented the habit. Only a fool would open herself up to the possibility of ridicule or misunderstanding.

Yet she felt the same way as Cary. She was serious about him, too.

So why couldn’t she tell him how she felt?

Her silence filled the car.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” he murmured.

“I do like being with you, Cary,” she said.

“You do?” He took a deep breath. “Next weekend, if the Lions win regionals, they’ll be at the state tournament in Columbus. If you want, we could go together and stay overnight. You’d have your own room,” he was quick to assure her.

She had to smile at his thoughtfulness.

Her answer was simple. “I want.”

Cary turned down her street and pulled up next to her Outback. Pleasure lit his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Before she could say anything else, Cary claimed her lips one more time. She responded wholeheartedly, feeling better about their future.

Sadie’s bark from the fence drew her away.

“See you later?” Cary asked as she got out of his truck.

“You will. Good luck with that mulch.”

He flashed her a smile. “Go back to bed, Slate. I’ll call you later.”

After his Explorer pulled out of the driveway, she slowly walked upstairs, Sadie running beside her impatiently. “What a morning,” she said to the dog as she unlocked the door and stepped inside her living room.

As Sadie trotted to her bedroom to nap, Gen found she couldn’t follow. She was too keyed up, her mind spinning over her conversation with Cary.

Why hadn’t she been able to tell him how special she thought he was? That she was falling in love with him? That she loved how considerate he was, how caring he was to everyone around him?

How he made her feel as if she was worth his time, his attention, his love?

But she was scared. What if she froze and couldn’t deliver the words he was looking for?

Or, even worse—what if she did open up and bare her soul and was found wanting?

What would she do then?