It Started with a Crush.... Melissa McClone
wanted something. But she’d brought him cookies—a bribe, no doubt—and been straightforward asking him for a favor.
He appreciated and respected that.
Some women were devious and played up to him to get what they wanted. Lucy hadn’t even wanted something for herself, but for her nephew. That was … refreshing.
Cupcake ran into the living room and hopped onto the couch.
Lucy took her same spot next to the dog. “Sorry that took so long, the dog wanted to run around before she got down to business.”
“Thanks for taking her out.” Lucy had brightened Ryland’s mood, making him smile and laugh. He wanted her to stick around. “You must be thirsty. I’ll get you something to drink. Coffee? Water? A soda?”
Lucy shifted on the couch. “No, thanks.”
Years ago, Aaron had told Ryland that his sister had a crush on him so to be nice to her. He had been. Now he was curious to know if any of her crush remained. “It’s no trouble.”
But he could get in trouble wondering if she were still interested in him. He was supposed to be avoiding women.
Not that he was pursuing her. Though he was … curious.
She grabbed her purse. “Thanks, but I should be going.”
Lucy was different than other women he knew. Most would kill for that kind of invitation from him, but she didn’t seem impressed or want to hang out with him. She’d eagerly taken Cupcake outside while he stayed inside. Almost as if she’d wanted some distance from him.
Interesting. His charm and fame usually melted whatever feminine resistance he faced. Not with Lucy. He kind of liked the idea of a challenge. Not that it could go anywhere, he reminded himself. “I’d like to hear more about Aaron.”
“Perhaps another time.”
“You have somewhere to be?”
Her fingers curled around the leather strap. “I have work to do before Connor gets home from school.”
Ryland would have liked it if she stayed longer, but he would see her again. No doubt about that. He rose. “I’ll see you out.”
She stood. Her purse swung like a pendulum. “That’s not necessary. Stay off your foot. I know where the door is.”
“My foot can handle it.”
Lucy’s gaze met his. “I can see myself out.”
He found the unwavering strength in her eyes a big turn-on. “I know, but I want to show you out.”
After what felt like forever, she looked away with a shrug. “It’s your foot.”
He bit back a smile. She would be a challenge all right. A fun one. “Yes, it is.”
Ryland accompanied Lucy to her car, a practical looking white, four-door subcompact. “Thanks for coming by and bringing me cookies. I’ll give you a call about a coach and talking to the team.”
She removed something from an outside pocket of her purse and handed it to him. “My cell-phone number is on my business card. Aaron has a landline, but this is the best way to reach me.”
He stared at the purple card with white and light blue lettering and a swirly border. That looked more like Lucy. “Freelance graphic designer. So you’re still into art.”
“You remember that?”
She sounded incredulous, but the way her eyes danced told him she was also pleased.
“You’d be surprised what I remember.”
Her lips parted once again.
He’d piqued her interest. Good, because she’d done the same to him. “But don’t worry, it’s all good.”
A charming blush crept into Lucy’s cheeks.
“We’ll talk later.” Ryland didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but flirting with her came so easily. “You have work to do now.”
“Yes, I do.” She dug around the inside of her purse. As she pulled out her keys, metal clanged against metal. “Thanks. I’m … I look forward to hearing from you.”
“It won’t be long.” And it wouldn’t. Ryland couldn’t wait to talk to her again. “I promise.”
CHAPTER THREE
THAT afternoon, the front door burst open with so much force Lucy thought a tornado had touched down in Wicksburg. She stood her ground in the living room, knowing this burst of energy wasn’t due to Mother Nature—the warning siren hadn’t gone off—but was man, er, boy-made.
Manny usually couldn’t wait for Connor to get home and make another escape attempt, but the cat hightailed it into the kitchen. A ball of dark fur slid across the linoleum before disappearing from sight.
Connor flew into the house, strands of his strawberry-blond hair going every which way. He was lanky, the way his dad had been at that age, all limbs with not an ounce of fat on him. The set of his jaw and the steely determination in his eyes made him seem more superhero than a four-and-a-half-foot third grader. All he needed was a cape to wear over his jersey and jeans.
“Hey.” Lucy knew he wanted to know about her visit to Ryland, but the sexy soccer player had been on her mind since she’d left him. Much to her dismay. She didn’t want to start her time with Connor focused on the guy, too. “Did you have a good day at school? You had a spelling quiz, right?”
He slammed the front door closed. The entire house shook. His backpack hung precariously off one thin shoulder, but he didn’t seem to care. “Did you talk to Ryland James?”
Connor had the same one-track mind as her brother. When Aaron had something he wanted to do, like joining the military, he defined tunnel vision.
Lucy might as well get this over with. “I went to Mr. and Mrs. James’s house this morning. Ryland liked the cookies we baked.”
The backpack thudded against the entryway’s tile floor. Anticipation filled Connor’s blue eyes. “Is he going to coach the Defeeters?”
This was the part she hadn’t been looking forward to since leaving the Jameses’ house. “No, but Ryland offered to see if he can find the team a coach. He’s also going to come out and talk to the team.”
Different emotions crossed Connor’s face. Sadness, anger, surprise. A thoughtful expression settled on his features. “I guess he must be really busy.”
“Ryland’s trying to heal and stay in shape.” Her temperature rose remembering how he looked in only a pair of shorts and gleam of sweat. “He doesn’t plan on being in town long. Maybe a month or so. He wants to rejoin his team as soon as he can.”
Manny peered around the doorway to the kitchen, saw Connor and ran to him.
Connor picked up the cat. “I guess I would want to do that, too.”
Poor kid. He was trying to put on a brave face. She wished things could be different for him. “There’s still time to find the Defeeters a coach.”
He stared over the cat’s head. “That’s what you said last week. And the week before that.”
“True, but now I have help looking for a coach.” Lucy hoped Ryland had been serious about his offer and came through for … the boys. “A good thing, otherwise, you’ll be stuck with me.”
Connor nodded.
She ruffled his hair. “Gee, thanks.”
“You’re the one who said it.” He flashed her a lopsided grin. “But no matter what happens, having you for a coach is better than not playing at all.”
Lucy hoped he was right. “I’ll do my best if it comes