Her Last First Date

“I already guessed that, but no thanks.”

“Don’t you think he’s sexy?”

Involuntarily Crissy felt her attention being pulled to Josh as he ran across the backyard. His body moved with an easy grace and somewhere inside of her body parts sighed in appreciation. “He’s okay.”

“Nothing more?”

“No,” she lied.

“Then I’ll have to find you someone else.”

Great. A matchmaker. “And if I told you I wasn’t interested in romance right now?”

Abbey grinned. “I wouldn’t believe you.”

After dinner, Crissy collected plates and headed for the kitchen. Abbey called out to stop her.

“Crissy, while you’re in the kitchen, would you grab the ice cream for the cupcakes? There are cookie sheets in the freezer with individual scoops in little cups.”

Of course there were, Crissy thought, guessing Abbey took care of every detail.

“No problem,” she said.

“Great. Brandon, honey, would you help Crissy?”

“Sure, Mom.”

Crissy stumbled slightly, caught herself and continued into the house. Apparently Abbey’s need to meddle didn’t stop at romance. It seeped into every corner of life.

Crissy did her best not to panic. In truth, she’d totally avoided having any contact with the boy. She’d watched him play football before dinner and had listened to him chat with his parents’ friends during the meal. She’d been observing rather than participating, wanting to get to know him without him being aware of her.

Now she walked into the kitchen, put the dishes on the table and wondered what she should say. The simple act of starting a conversation seemed impossible. Her brain went blank and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

Okay, she thought frantically. If talking wasn’t going to happen then she should act. She walked to the refrigerator and opened the freezer door. Then frowned.

“There’s no ice cream.”

“It’s in here,” Brandon said and led the way into a large laundry room that held an upright freezer.

He opened the door and she saw cookie sheets covered with cupcake liners, each filled with a perfect scoop of ice cream.

“Oh, my,” Crissy breathed. “Your mom is so together it’s almost scary.”

Brandon chuckled. “She’s into feeding people. She’s always bringing cakes and cookies and stuff to school.”

“That must make you popular.”

“It helps.” He pulled out one of the trays and handed it to her, then took the second one himself.

“I don’t cook much,” she admitted. “My idea of a home-cooked meal is to stop for a salad on the way home.”

Brandon wrinkled his nose. “Girl food,” he muttered.

What? Girl food? “Hey, you don’t get to think less of me because I’m a girl. I saw you running during the game and I could take you.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right.”

She might not know how to talk to a twelve-year-old boy, but she knew exactly how fast she was when she wanted to be.

“Want to put your attitude to the test?”

He glanced at her boots. “You gonna wear those?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t think so. I’m fast.”

“I’m faster.”

Brandon stopped on the porch and looked at her. “If you think you’re so tough, you can play in the next game. It starts right after dessert.”

“You’re on.”

His eyes widened. “For real?”

“Yes, and when you see how good I am, you’ll bow down and apologize.”

He grinned. “That’s not gonna happen.”

Crissy shook her head. “You are so wrong.”

The sun was close to setting, but there were plenty of lights on in Pete’s backyard. Josh collected a beer from a cooler and walked over to one of the lounge chairs by the football game that was just starting. Despite Brandon’s pleading, he’d refused another round. His nephew’s enthusiastic tackle earlier than afternoon had left him bruised and limping.

As he settled down, he saw an unexpected addition to the lineup. His gaze narrowed in on a perfect backside sticking out during the huddle. Crissy? Playing football? He looked down at the ground. In those boots?

It didn’t seem possible, but when they clapped and broke, she headed for the front line. Pete was across from her. She grinned.

“You’re not going to stop me,” she told him.

“That’s what you think.”

Crissy laughed, then turned and watched as the ball was snapped. Seconds later, she was flying down the field.

Pete and Abbey had bought the rambling old house because it had plenty of bedrooms for all the kids they wanted and because the yard was massive. They’d been determined to have the place all the kids in the neighborhood wanted to play. So there was plenty of room for Crissy to sprint downfield.

Despite what had to be three-inch heels on her boots, she moved with a speed that stunned the hell out of him. Brandon, normally the fastest guy on the field, couldn’t keep up.

She suddenly stopped, turned and caught the ball, then raced between the goal line markers. She spiked the ball, then crossed to Brandon.