How to Misbehave (Camelot 1)
Now he really looked, impressed with whoever had imposed order on the large space. There were several rows of shelves with neatly stacked and sorted equipment—balls, uniforms, climbing harnesses, pool chemicals and floats—all kinds of stuff.
The building used to belong to the college, but they’d given it to the village of Camelot after they constructed a new athletic center a few years back. Now some rich local had died and left money to pay for the new wing, which would add a studio for aerobics classes, a big workout room, some meeting areas, and another locker room just for families with little kids.
By the time it was done, the center would be twice as nice as the Y in Mount Pleasant, which was where Camelot residents had to go now if they wanted to belong to a gym.
Amber returned, frowning an apology. “No, sorry. No phone down here. I couldn’t even find a jack.”
Tony imagined his father berating him. You’re always so careless. Didn’t you listen to the weather?
He had, but he’d figured he’d be done and home before the storm hit. Then he got distracted by the unholy mess the electrical guys had left behind. Tony hadn’t wanted the site to stay trashed all weekend long. Stuff like that made the company look bad. He’d picked up, started running the shop vac, and the next thing he knew the siren was going off, and he’d kept her late again.
Kept her from her mother.
His mouth twitched into a smile at the memory of the conversation.
Amber flicked on a bank of switches in the middle of the room, illuminating the back half, and turned around. She stuck her hands in the front pockets of her khakis.
“So,” she said. “How ’bout that weather?”
She was so damn cute, with that face and her ponytail and the whistle around her neck. Not cute like she was trying to be, but cute like she couldn’t help it. Like a baby rabbit. It made him want to follow her around to keep the foxes from eating her up.
Except he was one of the foxes.
“We’re not likely to get hit,” he said. “The radio put us right at the edge of the storm. If it touches down anywhere, it’ll probably be around Brevard.”
“Yeah, I heard that.”
“Don’t suppose you got dinner down here?”
“There’s nothing to eat, sorry.”
“TV/VCR? Deck of cards?”
“Just a bunch of sports equipment.
Oh, and we’ve got Youth Theater costumes. We could play dress-up.” She threw him a little smile.
He managed not to tell her he’d rather play doctor. “I’ll be the princess,” he offered, “and you can be the pirate.”
Another smile. She had a dimple. Naturally.
“I think there are some chairs in the back.”
She led him down an aisle of metal shelving to a tower of orange and blue plastic chairs stacked against the far wall. Tony pulled two off the top.
“Ladies’ choice. Blue or orange?”
She took the orange, and they sat. Amber crossed her legs one way, then the other. Crossed her arms. Folded her hands in her lap.
He wondered if she was uncomfortable because she knew about the accident. People got that way. But it didn’t seem to fit, not considering how she went all pink and bashful whenever he walked by.
Could be she was just afraid of him because he was a man, and she was a woman, and here they were, alone.
Only one way to find out.
“So is it the storm you’re afraid of, or is it me?”
“Who says I’m afraid?”