That Thing You Do (Whispering Bay Romance 1)

“Or maybe it just doesn’t like you.”

More like she didn’t like him. Not that he blamed her.

Tom studied her phone for a few minutes. “Henry would get a kick out of this.” He handed her back her phone then pulled out his own cell and downloaded the app. “Now we both have one. You want to start back in the main room?”

“Are you kidding? You’re really going to help me?”

“The Braves just won their division playoff so I’m feeling pretty good right now. Besides, there’s not much else to do, is there?”

“Nope, nothing else to do,” she said, which of course, immediately made him think of the one thing he did want to do.

Especially with Allie Grant.

Exclusively with Allie Grant, if he were being honest.

When was the last time you got laid?

If anyone other than Lauren had asked he would have told them it was none of their fucking business. The thing was, she had a point. After the divorce, he’d slept around a little. Not enough to put him in the man whore category, but enough to satisfy his newly divorced fragile ego. Since moving back home, though, he’d been living like a monk. Working a sixty hour week, relieved only by an occasional fishing trip with Henry or a Sunday night dinner with the folks.

Maybe his mother was right and it was time to start dating again. Not the kind of dating she had in mind. He wasn’t ready for anything serious. He had too many responsibilities. A son. An ex-wife to support, even if she didn’t want to take a penny from him. A new job. And a bonus to collect. If he could ever get this new rec center project off the ground, that is.

No, what he needed was something more casual. If the right sort of woman were to come along. As tempting as Allie Grant was, she was definitely the wrong woman. For one thing, there was too much history between them. Sure, he’d been a teenager and dumb as rocks but there were some things in life you couldn’t take back. Besides, she had to be dating someone. She was gorgeous. Smart. Funny. Even if she was willing to overlook their past, there was no way she was available.

They spent the next hour scouring the building with their “ghost detectors” in hand, but both their phones had gone silent. They ended up back in the center’s main room.

“I swear this thing really did go off.” Allie tossed her phone into her bag in disgust.

“I believe you.”

She threw him a look that said, Liar.

“No, really, I believe you saw something on that phone.” He didn’t want to add that the ghost radar was probably programmed to go off if it encountered too much dust in the air or something else equally hokey.

He glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight. He shook out a couple of the blankets and spread them on the inflatable mattress, then pocketed his cell phone and sat down. “What do you got in there?” he asked, pointing to the picnic basket.

“Goodies. Made by Mimi Grant herself. Since you’ve been such a good boy, I might even be inclined to share.” Although there was plenty of room on the mattress, he noticed that she chose to sit on a blanket she’d tossed on the floor. “Coffee?” Without waiting for his response, she poured them each a cup.

Tom took a swallow. “Whiskey?”

Allie didn’t look surprised. “So that’s what Mimi meant when she said she added some zing.”

“As good a way as any to keep warm,” he said, downing the rest of his coffee.

She emptied her cup then raised it in salute. “Here’s to Mimi.” She immediately refilled their drinks. Because she was cold and wanted the warmth the coffee offered? Or because she was nervous and needed the fortitude supplied by the whiskey?

Either way, he didn’t plan to mess this up. He was alone with Allie Grant and neither of them were going anywhere. It was a chance he thought he’d never have. A once in a lifetime opportunity to really talk to her.

“So why journalism school?” he asked. Twelve years ago she’d wanted to become a lawyer. What had changed her mind?

“Because I flunked out of nursing.”

He smiled at the joke. The Allie Grant he knew in high school would never have gone to nursing school. There was that blood thing, after all. She smiled back, knowing he’d gotten it. And then her smile turned pensive and he realized they were remembering the same thing.

*~*~*

Allie had just finished whooping his ass at the bowling alley. She tossed her long brown hair over one shoulder, and began doing a little victory dance in the parking lot. “I beat you—I beat you—” she chanted, then

laughed. Two guys came out the front door of the Bowlarama and stopped to stare. Allie, as usual, was oblivious. Did she really not know how fucking gorgeous she was?