The Hero (Thunder Point #3)(47)

The locker room was filled with wet, half-naked boys, the showers still running. Spencer blew his whistle. It became instantly quiet as a church, even the water stopped running.

“I’m going to be here at eight tomorrow morning and at two tomorrow afternoon. It’s not a training day but anyone interested in talking about the best nutritional program for energy and body building should show up. And, after a short discussion about that, I’m willing to talk about some plays. I brought my playbook. I’m pretty sure my last team had a few you’ve never seen. This is not required—I know many of you have work and family obligations—don’t worry, I’ll catch you up next week if you have to sit this one out. This is entirely optional. Hey, good workout today, men. If you keep showing me your stuff like that, we’ll go far.”

Eight o’clock the next morning, the entire team was crowded into the locker room, waiting for him. Once he got over the shock of seeing them all there he realized that any of their parents or bosses would have excused them for anything to do with football.

Now the pressure was on....

* * *

Because school would start in less than a month, Dr. Grant’s clinic was pretty booked on Saturdays. The only serious situation was a laceration on the palm of a fisherman who carried a good many scars in roughly the same place. Devon helped with the treatment and the cleanup and then she sat down and put her head between her knees for a few moments. Scott laughed at her.

Blood bothered Devon, it always had. Once she cut her finger, pretty deeply, and had to lie down on the floor with a towel wrapped around it until she was no longer faint. “I’ll get better,” she told Scott. “At least I hope so.”

Around three that afternoon, Spencer came into the clinic. “Hey,” he said, smiling. “I have an appointment with the doctor.”

She looked at her computer screen. “I don’t have you down on the schedule.”

“Yeah, I know. I just called him. He said he can give me some time. And then, I was wondering, do you have plans for tonight?”

“Me? Plans?” At least she didn’t laugh out loud.

“You. Plans. I was thinking something simple. Relaxing. How about I bring a pizza over to your place. Or, I could take you and Mercy out for pizza, or something else if you’d like. I’m guessing you don’t have plans to go to the mall or a movie or something....”

Devon gave him a smile. She was a little surprised—she hadn’t seen or heard from him since she’d seen him on her lunch hour a day ago. With school starting soon she knew he’d been busy. “Pizza would be nice. I’ll give Mercy her mac and cheese and bath and we can have the pizza. It will be very quiet. There’s no TV or anything.”

“Just what I’m looking for. Seven too late?” he asked.

“Just late enough. I need a refresh. It’s been a long day in here. There was even blood!”

“Ewwww,” he said on a laugh. “Never expect that in a clinic, right?”

“Scott’s not with a patient right now so you can go back. I think he’s either in the office or the break room.”

The minute he was gone, she leaned her chin in her hand and smiled. She’d been thinking about him a lot but hadn’t expected that he would be thinking about her. He had a full and busy life.

The phone rang only twice while Spencer was talking to Scott, then they came out to the front together and Spencer was thanking him. Then he said to Devon, “See you tonight.”

“Sure,” she said.

And he was out the door.

Scott stood there beside her desk. She finally looked up at him. He lifted one eyebrow and asked, “Date?”

“Well, I don’t think it’s exactly that. We’re going to have a pizza together tonight.”

“I know you’ve been out of circulation for a while, but that’s a date in my book.”

“Spencer is a friend. And neighbor.”

Scott shook his head. “Devon, friends and neighbors date...”

The realization came to her slowly. She had gone to the wedding with Scott, danced with him and yet had not considered it a date. But this time she knew it was, because she wanted it to be. When you want a man to be your date—whether it’s champagne and flowers or pizza—it’s because you’re hoping it might go somewhere. And where, Devon McAllister asked herself, where do you think it’s going to go?

Her brows were drawn together fiercely, she could feel it. Then she heard Scott say, “Devon, I know you have problems to sort out, but the world won’t stop turning if you laugh. Have a good time. Enjoy yourself.”

“I guess that’s right,” she said.

“Are we done for the day?” he asked.

“You are,” she said. “I have some charts to enter. So as long as I’m here, I’ll answer the phone and add appointments to your roster for next week.”

“And I’m going to grab a cup of coffee, then head home. I’ll probably see you there when you pick up Mercy. Unless you’d like her to stay over so you can be alone with—”

“No! I mean, no, thank you. It’s not that kind of date.”

* * *

Scott could’ve had his cup of coffee at the clinic—they had a pot on. Or he could’ve gone out to the beach bar and had a beer to go along with his self-pity. Instead he went to the diner where he found Gina behind the counter and only a few teenagers in a back booth.