Chapter 13

13

H olden ran into Bill and Bud at the concession stand. The retired brothers had been in real estate development together in Houston. Bud had never married. Bill was a widower whose only son lived with his family in Lost Creek and convinced his dad to move here to be closer to his grandkids. Bud had followed Bill here. He saw them almost every time he went to write at Java Junction and had taken to speaking with them briefly, either before he got started writing or once he'd completed a scene. They were in their late seventies. Funny. Kind. And huge fans of his.

"Hey, guys!" he greeted, stepping up behind them.

"Have you seen Tommy tonight?" Bill asked. "My grandson is dominating the boards."

"The blond power forward? He's your grandson?"

"Yup," Bill confirmed. "His daddy also played basketball."

"But nothing like Tommy," Bud added. "Coach says that Tommy has a real shot at a scholarship when he graduates next year."

"Why are you here, Holden?" Bill asked. "I didn't know you liked basketball."

"I don't really follow it much." He grinned. "But I'm with someone tonight who came to see her former student start at center."

Both men's eyes lit with interest, and Bud said, "Barry's kept his head tonight. It was good move by Coach to bring him up from JV because of the injury. Nice he's getting some varsity experience." He paused. "Who's the teacher?"

"Finley Farrow."

Bill nodded. "Miss Farrow has a wonderful reputation around Lost Creek. Her brother runs the water sports place at the lake. All my grandkids went to her parents' Montessori school."

"Is it serious?" Bud asked.

"It is," he confirmed. "At least on my end."

Bud waved a hand in the air. "You're a nice-looking fellow, Holden. Smart. Good personality. I'll bet she's crazy about you."

They had reached the front of the line, and Bill placed his order and one for Bud. Looking to Holden, he asked, "What'll it be?"

"Two DP's. A big popcorn."

Bill added it and though Holden tried to pay him for it, he said, "Nope. I got this one. But maybe you can introduce us to your girl sometime."

"I'll do that," he promised, accepting the bucket of buttered popcorn and two soft drinks.

He returned to the gym, glancing at the scoreboard, seeing seven more minutes before the second half started. Already, players were returning to the court, shooting from the arc. He spotted Tommy and watched him hit four three-pointers in a row. He'd have to tell Finley about Bud and Bill and their connection to the forward.

As he began up the aisle, he noticed someone had joined Finley. From the sour look on her face, she wasn't happy with the company.

He studied the guy as he eased up the aisle. All his life, Holden had observed others. He was good at nailing personalities merely by sizing up someone's physical appearance and facial expressions. The man seated next to Finley looked like he had played ball, most likely football. He was nice-looking but had an arrogant air about him. Holden had a pretty good idea that this was the coach she had dated, the one she said was a real player.

Reaching his row, he looked down. "I'll need my seat back," he said, his voice neutral, smiling at the guy.

Glancing up, the man said, "It's mine now, buddy. Move along."

"Randy, I told you my boyfriend was sitting there," Finley insisted, her voice low. "Get up and go. Please."

Holden wished she hadn't added the please . It was a word that made a guy like this Randy creep dig in.

"Babe, I just?—"

"You were stupid enough to screw up your relationship with a class act like Finley," he said calmly. "She's done with you. Vacate the seat, buddy ." He emphasized the last word because it's what this guy had said to him.

Randy glared at him as he stood. If he were a cartoon character, Holden would have seen steam coming out of his ears.

Finley, too, came to her feet, so the three of them were close together. Her eyes pleaded with him, and Holden knew she didn't want any trouble.

He passed the drinks to her and set the bucket of popcorn where the coach had been sitting so that he wasn't juggling the items and off-balance. Holden didn't think the guy would take a swing at him, but he wanted to be prepared.

"Listen, window face," Randy growled.

"No," he said firmly, keeping his voice level. "You listen. Finley has told me you dated, and she called you a player. That's a guy who toys with the emotions of a woman he's going out with. Players don't care if the other person gets hurt because it's all a game to them. A player doesn't want to get to know someone. He's just looking for a good time. Yes, I'm sure you showered Finley with compliments, but you didn't bother to ask her questions and get to know her. For men like you, it's all about the chase. You can't commit because all you're interested in is something physical."

Randy's jaw dropped, but Holden pushed further.

"You're an employee in this district. By now, people are looking at us. At you. Thanks to the ever-churning gossip mill, most of the fans in this gym know you used to go out. And that you don't anymore. Finley's a lady and wouldn't have put it out there that you're a player. But the speculation has to be there. If you slam a fist into my face, not only will you lose your job— but I'll press charges for assault. You'll be ruined. I won't have had to lift a finger.

"So, smile at us, Randy," Holden said, smiling broadly at the coach. "Let's not give anyone anything to talk about."

He leaned in, his mouth close to the other man's ear. "And stay the hell away from Finley. Or you and I will be trading more than words."

Holden leaned back and laughed, slapping Randy on the back. The coach played his part, smiling widely. Only if someone were up close would they have been able to see the rage seething in Randy's eyes.

"Nice meeting you," he said amiably, stepping back to allow Randy to exit the row.

The coach trotted down the steps, pushing a hand in the air, waving without turning around.

Finley sat again on the bleacher, Holden picking up the bucket of popcorn and placing it in his lap as he, too, sat. He brought an arm about her waist and leaned in. She turned toward him.

And he kissed her.

Not for long. Just enough to let the people inside this gym watching— and he knew they had garnered their fair of attention as the buzzer sounded for play to start —to know he'd staked his claim.

She handed him his Dr. Pepper, and he took a long draw on the sugary drink before setting it on the concrete floor beside him. Then he picked up a piece of popcorn and fed it to her. She chewed thoughtfully, her gaze never leaving his. Holden them scooped a handful for himself and downed it.

Leaning close, she said quietly, "If you were a dog, I'd say you just marked your territory. Since you're not, I'll say you planted your flag."

He fed her another bite of popcorn. "I may have asserted my rights. It never hurts to establish your position. And I take my position of being your boyfriend very seriously, Miss Farrow."

Laughter bubbled up from her. Holden relaxed, knowing all was well between them. He turned his attention back to the game—and left his arm around her waist. Just in case Randy Player still had them in his sights.

By the time the game ended, the Lobos winning by seven points, several people had stopped by their seats to chat during timeouts. No one brought up Randy, and neither did Finley or Holden. The home crowd stood while the school song played, and then it began vacating the gym.

"Do you think Randy will be waiting outside?" Finley asked.

"Not a chance. He can't afford to. He would lose his job if he assaulted me. Even if he got off by some odd chance, this district would find a way to let him go by the end of the year. The old ‘we're going in another direction' speech. And he would be poison which any other district would be afraid to hire."

As they walked to the car, he put his arm around her shoulders. "The people in the row in front and behind us might've heard a little of what I said. If they did, so be it. I can't stop the tide of gossip. I have a feeling, though, that the jerk won't bother you again. That he'll put out feelers and land another position far from Lost Creek by next year."

They reached the truck and got in. Holden started the motor, letting it warm up a bit, not trying to pull out since the parking lot was a madhouse.

"He was everything you said," Finley said. "He gushed over me, but he never really took the time to get to know me. He wanted to be physical right from the start. I heard a rumor he was also seeing the friend of an acquaintance. I had my friend put the two of us in touch. Yes, Randy was also seeing her. She lived in Burnet and thought they were serious. Who knows if he had another other women he was stringing along?"

Holden leaned over, his hand capturing her nape, pulling her close for a long kiss.

"I hope you know I'm faithful. That you're the only woman I'm seeing." He kissed her lightly. "The only one I want to see. I know your free time is almost non-existent, and I don't want to smother you. But I'll take whatever time you're willing to give me, Finley."

Those aquamarine eyes sparkled at him. A smile tugged at her lips as she said, "I've got all night free, Holden. And it's all yours. I'm all yours. If you want me."

He removed his hand from her nape and quickly put the truck into drive.

"Let's go sip some wine at my place," he told her. "And if we get tired of that, I can think of a few other things to while away the night."

"You writers. You're always full of clever ideas," she purred.

Holden roared with laughter.