The Secret Wedding Wish. Cathy Gillen Thacker

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СКАЧАТЬ he smelled like a mixture of masculine soap and shampoo and fresh-cut Carolina pines. Another shimmer of awareness sifted through her.

      “’Cause I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Coach,” Chris continued exuberantly, leaning forward in his seat. “You probably don’t know this but I wrote you a letter about going to your camp, seeing if I could get some sort of scholarship or work to help me pay for it—”

      Thad looked at Janey, as well aware as she that thanks to her insistence on cutting their meeting short, nothing had been decided yet.

      “Actually,” Thad told her son, as guilt flowed through Janey anew and he turned around to face Chris, “that’s why I was looking for you and your mom today. I did receive your letter. And I knew it was something that should be discussed.”

      Chris’s face lit up like the sky on the Fourth of July. “Did you hear that, Mom? He’s gonna let me go to camp, even if we can’t pay for it all up front. Isn’t that great?”

      Janey knew nothing of the kind had been promised. Just as she knew she hadn’t seen her son looking so excited about anything since…well, since never. He had been through so much. Losing his father. Moving cross-country. If playing hockey helped him get past the last of his grief, and feel real joy again, who was she to deny him? “Actually…” Janey took a deep breath. “You don’t need a scholarship, Chris. I’ve taken care of that.” Or I will soon, she amended silently. “And you can go to summer hockey camp next week on two conditions. First, you get permisson from your summer school teacher and are able to get an excused absence from your math class. And second, that you do all the makeup work!”

      “No problem,” Chris enthused, making the victory sign with his fist. “I’ll talk to her Monday, first thing.”

      “Camp starts one week from tomorrow, and runs through the following Friday afternoon,” Thad said.

      Chris beamed, looking like every wish he had ever dreamed had just come true. “This is the best summer ever!”

      Janey only wished.

      “I’M TRYING TO AVOID being recognized again. What’s your excuse?”

      Actually, Janey had been trying to avoid running into Thad Lantz for fear of hearing him say “I told you so” or something similar. Not easy in an establishment the size of the Lake Pine Lodge, where there was only one restaurant and lounge.

      “What can I say? I can’t get enough of the rain,” Janey fibbed, as she leaned back against the side of the building that fronted the terrace, watching the rain pour off the overhang in sheets. There was just enough room for the two of them to stand there, side by side, without being seen or getting wet.

      “Now why aren’t I buying that?” Thad murmured, moving closer yet.

      Because it’s not true, Janey thought, taking a sip of scalding coffee, laced with both brandy and cream. She tried desperately to ignore his tall, broad-shouldered silhouette and warm herself up. Since coming in off the trail, she had taken a long hot shower and dressed in the warmest clothes she had with her—a long-sleeved yellow T-shirt and pair of olive green hiking shorts, knee socks, and her now cleaned-up boots. She had used the hotel blow-dryer to dry her chestnut hair, but because of the nature of the trip she’d had no styling products to put in it, and the continuing humidity had it curling wildly and uncontrollably to her shoulders.

      Not that Thad Lantz seemed to mind. The ruggedly handsome coach was staring down at her as if she were the loveliest creature on earth.

      Janey did her best to contain another shiver as she took a second sip of coffee and tried not to think about how deep down she had been secretly hoping she’d be forced to talk to Thad again this evening, despite everything.

      She tilted her head at him, noticing how masculine and at ease he looked in the glow of the terrace lanterns. He was wearing the same clothes he’d had on earlier—minus the windbreaker, of course—but it looked as if he had shaved again. Ran a brush through his own naturally curly hair, and somehow tidied—or trimmed—his dark mustache. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was on the prowl for some romance himself. But men on the prowl for romance didn’t hide on the outside terrace in the rain on a dark and stormy July evening.

      Wondering if his hair would feel as silky and thick as it looked beneath her fingertips, she turned her glance away and concentrated on her coffee. She wished he would quit contemplating her as if he wanted to kiss her. Wished she would quit wanting him to. Just to satisfy her considerable feminine curiosity, of course, since she had never been kissed by a man with a mustache.

      “Don’t you have something better to do?” she asked wryly.

      He shrugged and his smile widened as he spoke in a low, sexy voice that did funny things to her insides. “Don’t you?”

      So much for shooing him away.

      For the first time Janey noticed he had some coffee with him, too. Irish, if her nose was telling her correctly.

      He took a sip as he eyed her seriously. “Where’s Chris?”

      “Video arcade.” Was it her imagination or was this terrace getting smaller by the minute? She swallowed around the sudden parched feeling in her throat and tried to pretend being alone with him like this didn’t bother her in the least. “Since the storm knocked out all the cable TV for the evening, and the kids can’t swim or play on the tennis courts due to the rain, the management gave the kids free tokens to use.”

      Deciding she was much too close to him, she backed up a step.

      He smiled at her as if reading her thoughts, but stayed where he was, lounging against the rough-hewn log wall of the lodge. “Chris must have liked that.”

      “Oh, yeah.” Janey warmed at the caring in his voice. “There are probably fifty kids down there.”

      He turned, so his shoulder was bracing the wall, and let his glance drift lazily over her. His smile broadened as he returned to her eyes. “Enough machines?”

      Janey’s heart skipped a beat at the sexual awareness shimmering between them. She hadn’t wanted anyone in such a long time. She didn’t know what to do with the yearning. “They’ve got a couple of busboys down there, running some sort of competition and keeping order.” Everyone had seemed very happy when Janey left to find amusement for herself—or was it really distraction from all her ridiculously uncalled-for, unexpectedly romantic thoughts?

      He drained the rest of his coffee, then set the empty mug on one of the tables to the left of them. “You made the right decision—letting Chris go to camp after all.”

      “Yes, well…”

      He went back to leaning against the building, his muscular arms folded in front of his solid-looking chest. He studied her with narrowed eyes, then ascertained gently, “But you’re still not happy about it, are you?”

      That was putting it lightly, Janey thought. Chris was so much like his father. Ty’s unrealized athletic dreams and the resulting bitterness had poisoned Ty’s soul, as well as his marriage to her. The only saving grace had been Ty’s love for Chris, and his determination to shield his son from his own shattered hopes. She didn’t want Chris’s thwarted goals or frustrations in that regard poisoning their relationship, too. But she knew, with the odds against actually achieving the kind of pro career Chris dreamed about, СКАЧАТЬ