Not My Romeo (The Game Changers #1)(36)

“Sure.”

And then he walks away, his rather nice frame disappearing through the doors that lead to where the choir sings. There’ll be a chair up front for him to sit in while the song leader leads the choir.

I frown, turning back to Jack, finding my voice. “What on earth are you doing here?”

He winces, and what I think is a guilty expression crosses his face. “I swear, I didn’t know you’d be here, but this day just got a whole lot more interesting.”

I replay his words in my head. “So you just happened to come to Daisy today—for church?”

“Not exactly.”

“Ms. Riley!” The voice comes from the door as Timmy Caine bounds into the foyer. I smile, glad of the distraction, when he rushes me and wraps his good arm around me, the other one in a cast. The white plaster has names written in bright colors. I see Jack’s and a drawing of a Tiger that looks a whole lot like Jack’s tattoo on his back . . .

With thick wraparound glasses, a tiny frame, and clothes that I think have been worn by someone before him, Timmy is small for his age and one of my favorite students who pop in the library. He’s had a rough time, his dad passing away last year in a drunk-driving accident. He was coming home from the Piggly Wiggly when a car ran a red light and plowed into his driver’s side. He died at the scene. Mama was terribly upset, taking food and visiting with Laura for several days. This little town is gossipy, but when one of our own needs us, people stick together.

Jack ruffles Timmy’s hair. “Hey, little man. I beat you here. Told you I would. My car is fast.”

“Thank you for meeting us for breakfast! And for the new bike,” Timmy says. “Those banana pancakes at the diner were so good. Mama says we’ll have to do it again.”

He took the Caine family to breakfast?

Jack smiles. “Next time, we’ll try the waffles. Sound good?”

“Yeah!” Timmy dashes away and peeks into the sanctuary. “The place is packed. We’ll have to sit on the front row. Mama, remember that time Mrs. Claymont was singing in the choir, and her teeth came flying out?”

I laugh, recalling that story from Mama, then suck in a breath, connecting the dots from the googling I did on Jack Hawke last night. I watched snippets of his press conference online, getting the highlights, but the kid he ran over was never named since he was a minor. I eye the cast on Timmy’s arm and look back at Jack.

Jack has been watching me, and when I look up at him, he reddens. “Elena, I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking,” I say softly as Timmy darts around the foyer, grabbing crayons and a program for the service. He keeps looking over at Jack and grinning.

Laura has reached us and stands next to Jack. “You did not have to come to church with us. Breakfast was plenty.” She gazes up at him and smiles, and dang, I forgot how pretty she is with her bobbed golden-brown hair and peaches-and-cream complexion. She’s a few years older than me but was one of those popular pretty girls in high school.

My hackles rise until I stomp them right back down.

I have no right to be jealous of Laura.

Timmy tugs at her hand. “Come on. I don’t want to miss when they introduce the preacher. I heard he’s tall. I want to be tall.” He grins at Jack. “Are you staying?”

Jack looks at me, his face unsure. “Ah, I’m not sure.” He glances down at his jeans. “I’m not really dressed for church.”

Then why did he walk in here?

Timmy glances from me to Jack. “Do you know each other?”

“Yes,” Jack says.

“No,” I say at the same time.

Timmy frowns. “Adults are weird.”

“We are,” Jack agrees, then turns his attention to Laura, who has her hand on his shoulder.

She gives Jack a hug, and I . . . I . . . frown.

She smiles at us and opens the door to the sanctuary. “Seriously, Jack. Don’t feel like you have to stay. We’ll see you later.”

Later?

They wave goodbye and disappear through the door, and Jack turns back to me. There’s a long silence in the foyer as we eye each other.

Why did he walk in the church?

Is he interested in Laura? She’s not one of his jersey chasers, but she’s absolutely pretty. And they’ve obviously spent some time together.

The foyer is empty, and he’s just watching me, hands in his pockets, and I can’t seem to find my words.

He gives me a grin, looking much more relaxed than last night. “You should have seen your face when you saw me. Priceless. I should have taken a pic. I mean, your mouth was open. Flies could have gotten in.” He pauses. “Are you mad I’m here?”

I give myself a mental shake. Am I? I don’t know. “It’s church. Everyone is welcome.”

He smirks, a rather boyish expression on his face. “It feels as if we can’t stop running into each other. Is that fate?”

“It’s something.”

“Hmm. I have your panties, Elena.” He pulls a piece of the fabric out from his front pocket, just a few inches, but the sequins are right there.

My mouth gapes as I dart my eyes around the foyer. Still empty.

“Because you knew I’d be here?” How is that possible?