The Hero (Thunder Point #3)(35)

He looked for Austin, who hadn’t moved in quite a while. He was still sitting with the teenagers, Landon, Eve, Ashley James and a young man by the name of Frank. When Spencer had decided to come to this town, he had no idea it would include kids like Landon. He was an expert on high school kids, especially athletes, and Landon and his friends were A-list, no question—smart, healthy, responsible and very patient with ten-year-old Austin. Landon was bunking with Spencer and Austin while Cooper’s parents borrowed the RV as their guestroom and he was a perfect houseguest.

Spencer wandered over to the outdoor bar for another beer and, while standing there, he talked with a number of folks from town. Yeah, this was a town excited about football season and it made sense. Their high school teams did well and were worth bragging about. People wanted to warn him about competing teams and ask him if he had some secret weapon. They wanted to go over details of performance in previous years and talk about their stars. Finally he was dragged out to dance by Ray Anne and, with beer in hand, he spun her around a little bit.

“Wow,” she said, “you can even dance!”

“I’ve chaperoned a ton of high school dances,” he explained.

She tapped his beer bottle with a long, pink, manicured finger. “No beer at those dances, I bet.”

“Not where I could see it,” he answered with a laugh.

“Hard to believe times have changed so little since I was in school. It’s been a couple of years.”

“Has it now?” he asked, playing dumb.

Dance over, he found himself standing around with Coach Rayburough, Cliff and Mac. The talk was football, of course. And his eyes kept drifting to Devon—she either danced or visited with women friends or sat on the blanket. It wasn’t late, but inevitably the party dwindled—people started leaving.

Spencer was tackled around the legs by his son. Austin looked up at him and said, “Can I go home on the Razor?”

“Who’s driving?” Spencer asked, joking.

“Ha, ha. You know.”

He looked around and saw Landon was saying his goodbyes, shaking Cooper’s hand, giving his sister a kiss on the cheek. Then Landon was striding toward Spencer. “Eve and I are going to head out. We’ll take Austin home in the Razor, if it’s okay with you. If it’s not, I’ll walk him and Eve will drive the Razor. Or we could leave it for you.”

“As long as he has his seat belt on and you go slow,” Spencer said. “Don’t hit any wedding guests. That’s bad luck.”

“For sure.” Landon laughed.

“We’ll swing by and grab Eve and Ashley on the way home,” Mac said. He glanced at his watch. “Half hour or so?”

“Come on, Mac, it’s Saturday night!”

“You gonna bring ’em home?” Mac asked.

“Yeah, later! After Spencer gets home.” Then he looked at Spencer and said, “There’s no hurry on that....”

They were walking off in the direction of the far side of the beach, Austin with four teens. And then the saxophone player spoke into the microphone and said, “We’ll give you a couple more, then this old band is packing it up....”

Spencer handed Mac his beer bottle and said, “Excuse me.” He walked across the dance area. He was thinking, Get a few beers in me and I’ll do any stupid thing. In front of him Devon was talking with Scott Grant as he folded up that beach blanket. “Almost missed my chance,” he said, holding out a hand to Devon. “The band’s shutting down.”

“Aw, that’s nice,” she said, putting her hand in his. Then she looked at Scott. “If you want to go, I’ll see you in the morning when I come for Mercy. I can get across the beach on my own.”

“Got your whistle?” he asked.

She laughed at him, but Spencer, half expecting an argument, said, “I’m her neighbor—I’ll make sure she gets home.”

And then to his surprise, Scott Grant said, “Okay. Later, then.”

Probably shouldn’t have done that, Spencer thought. He already knew he found the girl intriguing and attractive and complicated—spending more time with her just didn’t make sense for a man in his position, single father, recently widowed, vulnerable. But then he put his hand on the small of her back, brought her gently up against him, and that’s where all thinking ended. He was vaguely aware of someone in the band singing You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you.... He swayed with her, their feet barely moving, her head resting lightly against his shoulder, her hair under his chin.

She lifted her chin and smiled up at him. “Did you have a good time tonight?” she asked.

He just nodded and pulled her a little bit closer.

He tried to make sense of this. It had been so long since he’d had his arms around the warm, soft flesh of a woman—that’s probably all it was. He’d held his wife in her last months, weeks, days, hours...but that wasn’t the same as this. This woman was all too alive. And her hair...the fragrance was just knocking him out.

“What is that fragrance?” he asked her in a whisper. “What do you wash your hair with?”

She looked up at him and laughed. “Baby shampoo.”

Okay, he was clearly losing his mind. Baby shampoo? Whatever was filling his senses was much more serious and sensuous than that. The song ended and the next began. He felt her pull back slightly, but he just gathered her up closer. And she came to him. He heard the music, but he was also vaguely aware of the sounds of packing up. Coolers opened and closed, trash was gathered, there was talking and laughing, bottles clinked. He lifted his head, opened his eyes and they were the only couple dancing.