Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)(27)

Didn’t matter, he told himself. He fastened the last button on his dress shirt and skipped the tie. Unlike his father, Wyatt wasn’t a tie kind of guy. He owned one, but it was probably holding a bundle of PVC pipes together on his truck.

The high school gym bumped with the sound of the DJ’s music from a decade past. The lights were dimmed, much like a high school dance. The difference was the temporary bar set up in the corner and the lack of grinding moves that the teens of today called dancing. People gathered in clusters. From the outside, it was easy to pick out who were alumni of the school and who were the bystanding significant others obligated to escort the River Bend graduates.

A tap on his shoulder brought his attention to Luke. “I was wondering if you’d show up,” Luke said over the music.

Wyatt shrugged. “Not a lot of nightlife in this town.”

“Nightlife? I don’t think that’s the reason you’re here.”

“Oh?”

Luke glanced around the growing crowd before returning his attention to Wyatt. “How about a beer?”

Wyatt followed him to the bar.

Principal Mason leaned on the wall next to the bar. “Hello, Richard,” Wyatt greeted him with a handshake.

“Evening, boys.”

“Standing guard over the bar?” Luke asked.

Richard ran a hand over his bald head with a cocky grin. “Making sure a few of these good ol’ boys buy me a drink. Some of them put me through hell. You included, Miller. You ditched school more than you showed up.”

“I passed my classes.”

“By a hair.” Richard winked and nodded toward the bartender. “Jack and Coke, Miller. Make it a double.”

Luke narrowed his eyes and bought the principal a drink.

The three of them watched the crowd for a few minutes. “Does this get old for you?” Wyatt asked Richard.

“Not at all. It’s like watching a good game you have money on.”

“How so?”

Richard scanned the room. “A handful of the teachers and I lay bets at the end of every year gauging who will leave town, who will stay. Then after the reunion, we wager on who is coming back.”

The principal glanced between the two of them and said, “Don’t judge. Vegas is a long ways from here. Take you, Luke. None of us pegged you for leaving.”

Wyatt laughed at the expression on Luke’s face.

“I’m not sure how to take that.”

“You worked with your dad. Loved cars . . . you didn’t have to leave to find yourself.” Richard nodded toward the mass in the gym. “Lots of them did. Some are still searching. Some have been gone long enough to know they want what they had when they lived here, and some know a small town simply isn’t big enough for them.”

While Luke appeared to contemplate Richard’s words, Wyatt asked, “Is there anyone here you lost money on?”

“Sure. JoAnne was a shock. I pegged her as a leave and never come back girl.”

“I don’t think she had much of a choice,” Luke said.

“Everyone has a choice.”

Wyatt scanned the crowd, his eyes finally finding the reason he was there.

She was wearing a little black dress, the kind that hugged a woman’s curves and made a man’s mouth water. From the heads she turned, his wasn’t the only mouth watering. Zoe was dressed in red that offset her olive skin and drew a whistle from the man at his side. Beside the two was the third of the female musketeers. Jo skipped the dress and wore slacks. Still, she was more dressed up than Wyatt had ever seen her. If he had to guess, her friends insisted on the outfit. Still, the woman walked like a cop, her eyes darting around the room in constant motion.

“Looks like our sheriff found her posse.” Richard lifted the drink to his lips, smiled over the glass.

Wyatt felt Melanie’s eyes and met them. She unleashed a slow smile that illuminated the room. When Wyatt lifted his beer in salute, she nodded and pointed to Zoe and Jo.

“I think that means you’re buying the ladies drinks, Wyatt.”

He reached for his wallet and nudged Luke. “Next round is on you.”

A couple of minutes later the two of them wiggled through the crowd, double fisted with drinks.

“Why thank you.” Melanie offered a wink. “How did you know?”

Luke leaned in. “Subtle, Mel . . . real subtle.”

“We wouldn’t want the wrong men buying us drinks this early in the evening,” Zoe said.

Jo laughed. “I don’t usually have that problem.”

“You have got to come visit me in Dallas. And leave your badge behind. The men will line up to pinch your ass and buy you drinks.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “I’d probably put them in a choke hold and cuff them.”

“They might like that,” Wyatt added.

When their laughter slowed so did the music, and Wyatt moved in. “So, Melanie . . . about that dance you owe me.”

She blinked a few times, a blush rose on her cheeks. “What dance?”

“My fee for rescuing little girls off rooftops.”

Wyatt took the liberty of removing the beer from her hand and setting it on the high-top table before leading her away.

The curve of her hip met his hand as he faced her on the dance floor. They swayed a few times before she spoke. “Smooth, Wyatt. Using my kid to score a dance.”