What the Heart Wants (What the Heart Wants, #1)(65)

Jase sat them down on a comfortable plush couch with a garish hill country landscape of prickly pears and mountain laurels on the wall behind it. A white-haired waiter approached for their drink order. Laurel shook her head in negation.

“Cutty and water for me,” Jase said, producing his guest card. “The lady won’t be having anything.”

The old man’s eyes twinkled. “No ginger ale, Miss Laurel?”

She couldn’t help but respond to the warmth in his voice. “Thank you, Grover. Ginger ale would be fine.”

Jase took a handful of popcorn from the wooden bowl on the low table in front of him and glanced at the huddle of men across the room. One of them looked familiar, but he couldn’t place him. Maybe he was an old schoolmate, maybe someone he’d talked to earlier this week.

The drinks arrived. He tasted his whiskey, set it down on the side table, and smiled at Laurel. “As I said, I’m not much of a drinker.”

Laurel nodded and sipped at her ginger ale. “Neither am I. I used to have a Vodka Collins now and then when I was in college, but I’m afraid Grover would have been scandalized if I’d ordered one. Everyone around here thinks I’m still eight years old.”

Jase leaned back into the comfort of the couch and moved his arm around her shoulders, enjoying the touch of her magnolia-soft skin all along the way. “Not everyone, sweetheart, and certainly not when you’re wearing this dress.” He snuggled closer and touched her cheek with his lips.

Watch it, Redlander. You’ll get yourself thrown out of the joint if you keep this up. He removed his arm and, picking up his drink again, took a calming swallow.

What the hell—was that Ray Espinoza coming out of the dining room with the pregnant woman in the red dress on his arm?

Jase stood up. “Hey, Ray! Over here.”

“Jase, dude! Good to see you again, bud!”

The men across the room looked around for a brief moment as Jase and Ray greeted each other with a smacking high five. Jase gave Ray’s date a slight bow. Snapping black eyes and curly black hair—he was pretty sure he recognized her, even though he couldn’t call her by name. “And this must be your wife, Ray.”

Ray laughed. “Damn tootin’. You remember Rebecca Diaz.” He drew her forward.

“Of course. Bosque Bend’s football queen.” Jase gave her a big smile. “Ray’s a lucky man.”

Rebecca was even prettier now than she’d been in high school, but he’d always heard pregnancy gave women a special glow. “You know Ray threatened us all with fire ants in our jock straps if we didn’t vote for you.”

She laughed. “And then he told me I had to date him because he was the one who rounded up the votes.” Her gaze moved behind Jase to Laurel, still seated on the couch, and she turned to her husband with a shocked expression on her face.

Ray jerked her arm slightly, and she started smiling again, somewhat unevenly, but only at Jase.

Jase frowned. What was going on? Rebecca and Laurel used to run in the same crowd.

A strong hand grabbed his arm from behind, and he heard a familiar voice. “Jason Redlander! Just the man I wanted to see!”

The last person Jase had expected to run into in the Bosque Club was Art Sawyer. The curmudgeonly newshound had antagonized so many people with his journalistic rants that it was a wonder he was still allowed in the door.

Thank God he’d decided against proposing to Laurel on-site. It would have been a headline story.

“Mr. Sawyer, sir,” he acknowledged.

Damn. The guy’s grip was like iron, and he must be in his seventies by now.

Sawyer released him and slapped Ray Espinoza on the back. “And Raymond. Good to see you too. Glad you guys have reconnected. I remember when you two held the line against the Jarrell team in the play-offs.”

“Ahmed Quisenberry was there too,” Jase reminded him. “Greatest middle linebacker ever.” Ahmed was the strategist, Ray the runner, and he the rough-and-stumble.

“You still in touch with him?”

“Ahmed? No sir, not really.”

Ray moved forward. “He’s a DC lawyer now.”

“Well, if you ever get wind of him coming back to town, do me a favor and let me know. I’d like to interview him.” He turned to Jase, who was flexing his hand to make sure it wasn’t broken.

“From what I hear, young man, you’ve been causing quite a stir around town the past couple of days yourself.”

“Checking out a little real estate, sir.”

“Like to run a story on you, Jason, if you have the time to talk to me. Local-boy-makes-good sort of thing. Maybe it’ll inspire some of these lazy bums we’ve got around here to get off their rumps and do some honest work for a change.”

“Yessir.” What a turnabout, to be a hometown hero, when sixteen years ago Bosque Bend did everything but tar and feather him. Take that, Bert Nyquist.

“Tomorrow morning about ten at the Dairy Queen? I’ll treat you to some frozen custard.”

“I’ll be there.” Jase smiled as he glanced over at Laurel, who seemed be trying to make herself invisible. “I’m planning to stay in town for a while yet.”

Sawyer edged back. “Oh, Miss Harlow! Didn’t notice you sitting back there. Nice to see you again. I remember when you would come here with your parents.” He looked at her sternly, as if trying to convey an editorial message. “It’s been too long. You ought to get out more often.”