“What about the cheerleaders? I’ll bet they were all over you.”
“There were a few,” I said with a chuckle. “I had some good times underneath these bleachers.”
“Is that right?”
A spark of jealousy flickered in her eyes, and before I could say another word, Charlotte tugged me underneath the bleachers, her pretzel forgotten.
Her lips were on mine before I could even register what was happening. The stomps and screams coming from above us grew louder with each tick of the clock, but all I could do was concentrate on the beautiful woman pressing her body against mine. Her lips and tongue were doing their damnedest to erase any memories of high school make-out sessions under the bleachers that might have been lingering in my head.
And it was working.
I grabbed one of the metal support rods above my head and steadied us as I wrapped the other arm around her waist. You’d think after our morning with the maple syrup, she would have had her fill of me, but here we were, making out under the bleachers like two sex-starved teenagers.
“You forget about them yet?” She smirked at me when we finally broke for air, both of us trying to catch our breath.
“Baby, they were never even a memory.” I dropped a last quick kiss on her lips. “Now, let’s get that pretzel and get the hell out of here.”
Chapter Twelve
Charlotte
The crowd thundered overhead as Luke grabbed my hand, pulling me to the edge of the bleachers where people were already pouring from the stands.
“Shit,” he mumbled. “Game must be over.”
“Does that mean the concession stand is closed?”
He laughed when my stomach grumbled. “How is that even louder than the people around us?”
I shrugged. “Special talent, I guess.”
Luke led me by the hand as we blended into the crowd, weaving through the mass of people heading back to their cars. Here and there, I caught people looking at him from the corner of their eyes, their expressions half-adoring, half-confused—probably because they were trying to make out which twin he was.
Our earlier conversation about football came to mind. He’d really downplayed it, I knew, but it had to be no small thing to get a full ride to college, especially for a school as high profile as A&M. And in a town like this? It would likely make him some kind of god. Still, he took it in stride, smiling at the people around him and ignoring their grins of approval and adoration.
“What happened after college?” I asked when we finally made it through the thick of the crowd.
The concession stand was just in front of us, and Luke pivoted to look at me.
“What?”
“You said you went to A&M for college. What did you do after that? I mean, what did you major in? Did you always want to run the distillery?”
His face twisted for a minute, but as we came to the front of the little snack shack, he smiled and waved at the girl behind the counter who was tossing out the leftover hot dogs.
“Jill,” he said. “Hey.”
She blinked up at him, and when she realized who he was, she blushed. “Hey there.”
“Got any leftover pretzels, or did you toss those out already?”
She nodded and headed for the case where five giant golden-brown pretzels twirled on a silver rack. Taking a paper tissue, she grabbed one and held it out for him.
“Hell of a game,” she said. “Almost like when you were playing. ’Cept, of course, if you’d been out there, we would’ve won.”
She nodded toward the back wall, and my gaze followed hers to a row of framed jerseys. Okay, so apparently downplaying didn’t quite cover it.
Five jerseys hung from the white cinderblock wall, all displayed under a bright yellow light. In the very center were two that read “Wilder,” one I assumed with Luke’s number and the other with Duke’s.
“It was a great game. They gave it all they had,” Luke said, seemingly oblivious to my revelation. “What do I owe you?”
Jill shrugged. “On the house. Would’ve gone in the trash, anyway.”
We said our good-byes before joining the crowd still streaming to the parking lot. When I took a bite of the salty hot dough, Luke frowned at me.
“Don’t you want some mustard or cheese?”
“And sully the perfect taste of this pretzel? Not on your life.” I gave him a playful shove and took another bite, thinking over what to say next. I knew what I wanted to say.
Don’t take me back to the inn. Let me stay at your place tonight, and tomorrow night too. And then we can just go our separate ways and have this fun memory to take with us.
Still, it felt too forward. I couldn’t exactly invite myself into someone else’s home for the weekend, and even if I could . . . wasn’t that a little too serious for something that we both agreed was a fling?
“Charlotte?”
I shook my head, trying to recall what Luke had been saying, but it was no use. “Huh?”
“I said, can I give you a ride to the inn?”
“Oh, yeah, that would be great.” I followed him to his truck, listening to the chatter around us as people rehashed the game.
“What were we talking about?” he asked as he got behind the wheel.
I settled into the passenger seat. “I asked about college. What did you major in?”
“Business.”
“For the distillery?”
His face twisted into a frown. “Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, his profile and square jaw looking as fine as hell, even in the darkened interior of the truck. “I’ll tell you, but first you have to promise that you’re not the jealous type.”
“Jealous?” I laughed, but my stomach tightened. “What do you mean?”
“You know what jealousy looks like. Promise me you can contain yourself.”
“I think I can manage.” I rolled my eyes, but secretly I was wishing I was anywhere else right now.
“I had actually gone to school for business because my girlfriend at the time wanted to open a high-end spa,” he explained.
I rose my eyebrows but said nothing.
“She was a real city type, and we had a plan to open her company in Dallas because that’s where the clientele was. But things didn’t work out that way.”
“What do you mean?”
“By the time I graduated, the distillery was going under, and my dad was too. I had to come back home to lend a hand.”
I shot him a glance under my lashes, a twinge of pity sizzling through me at the pain in his voice. “And Duke did the same?”
Luke nodded. “No-brainer.”
“And what happened to . . .” I let the question hang in the air, studying Luke’s face as I waited for him to fill in the blank. He didn’t look pained anymore, but he didn’t look excited to be dredging it all up either.
“Sarah,” he finished for me. “She came back with me. For a while, at least. Like I said, she was the city type, and living in a small town—especially one where everyone already knew me—wasn’t her style.”