Her Perfect Man (6 page)

“I’m glad. You seem to have a gift with the kids.”

“Thanks. That’s nice to know. Now I don’t have to rethink my life’s calling.” There were those dimples flashing at her. “You’re really good with them, too.”

Now he was being complimentary. Charming. “Did you know tomorrow is swimming lessons?”

“I heard something about that. Marin told me to bring a suit and a towel.”

“You haven’t experienced day camp until you’ve spent a session in the pool. For your sake, I hope you can swim.”

“Like a fish.”

“Then maybe you can keep up with me.” Now why did she say that?

Chad chuckled. It was a heartening sound, soft and low and rumbling. “Maybe
you
can keep up with
me
. Stay tuned. Tomorrow you and I will rumble. Good night, Rebecca.”

“Good night.” There she went, smiling again. Didn’t that spell trouble? She clutched the box as she forced her feet to turn her around and take her back inside the living room and away from Chad. She pulled the door open and her gaze followed his retreating form as he crossed the common lawn and circled around the stone wall that separated their yards.

She was through with handsome, charming, seemingly perfect guys. And that’s the way it had to stay. She gathered up her resolve and closed the door.

Gray skies and the feel of rain chased her down the walkway toward the awaiting church bus. Rebecca hefted the duffel bag higher on her shoulder and hopped up the steps. The door snapped shut behind her.

“Rebecca.” Chad’s baritone rumbled above the noisy bus full of day campers.

There he was, near the back. Looking dashing in a GrayStone Church Bible camp T-shirt and jeans. He’d saved a seat for her. She was smiling again and she didn’t want to think too closely about why. She headed toward him, passing seat after seat full of talking kids, laughing kids, squealing kids. He was an island of calm in the middle of chaos. She dropped into the seat next to him and slipped her bag to the floor. The bus lurched to a rumbling start.

“How did it go with your family last night?” he asked.

“The Popsicle treats were a big hit. Thank you again.”

“No problemo. Now we’re friends. You know that, right? We’re no longer just acquaintances.”

“Well, I’m not so sure about that.” Why on earth was she jesting with him? She didn’t have a single explanation other than she liked the guy. He was fun to be around. “I hardly know anything about you.”

“I grew up in Lake Oswego, Oregon, which is near Portland. I was captain of my high school football team.”

Mental groan. Not another one. Chris had been one, too. Rebecca shook her head, staring hard at the handle of her duffel bag. It was starting to fray. No surprise, as she had been using it for years. Easier to think about the bag than the man seated beside her. Another football captain type. She definitely had the right idea being leery.

“What?” he asked. “You don’t like football?”

“I have nothing against it. Go on. Now I know what, like three thing about you. Wait, four.” The bus bounced over the speed bumps, and she bounced on the seat. “Grape is your favorite Popsicle.”

He bounced, too, and grinned full-fledged. If she had been thinking about him as a guy to date, then her heart would have went
yikes
. Good thing she wasn’t looking at him that way.

“Hold on.” He turned toward her in the seat. “You are one big question mark to me. I know you have a big family. You’re going to school. You have a No Man policy. I’ve told you something. Now you tell me something.”

“I’m not all that interesting, I assure you.”

“Try me.”

What was she going to say in answer? Especially since he’d arched one brow so that he looked a little like a blond, wholesome, well-groomed pirate.

Double yikes. Her brain momentarily lost function, like a computer searching for its programming.

“All right, I’ll come up with one more thing,” he was saying. “I love old movies.”

“Me, too.”

“Maybe we can catch a showing down at the old renovated theater near campus.”

“Uh, you mean as friends, right?” She grabbed the back of the seat in front of her as the bus lurched around a corner.

“Right. Maybe we can bring Ephraim. He likes movies. And why not bring along Lauren and her husband? What do you say?”

“I say that sounds like fun.”

“I’m glad you think so. How does Saturday night sound?”

“Doable on my end. I’ll check with Lauren.”

“And I’ll check with Ephraim.” He planted his feet as the bus screeched to a stop. “How about we all go out for a bite beforehand?”

“There’s a drive-in just across the street from the theater. They’ve got the best milk shakes.”

“Sounds like a perfect plan.” The doors had opened and the kids were already standing and vying for space in the aisle. “Looks like we’re here. Remember what I told you last night?”

“The challenge. How could I forget?” She swept her bag off the floor and stood in one fluid, graceful motion. Her hair was pulled back in a single ponytail again and wispy locks had escaped to curl around her face. Cute. Very cute.

Friends. It was a good place to start. He grabbed his bag from beneath the seat and followed her out of the bus and into the parking lot at the county swimming pool.

She turned to him, a gust of wind tangling her curls. She couldn’t help joking with him just a little. “Now refresh my memory. What did you say last night?”

“I told you to be ready to rumble.”

“And what exactly does that mean?” She fell into stride behind him.

He slung his duffel over his shoulder. “I talked to Marin first thing this morning and found out that we’re having a water polo game after the swim lessons. Girls against boys.”

“I suppose you think you can win?”

“I’m supremely confident.”

She tipped her head back and laughed sweetly. “You know the saying. Pride goes before a fall. I wouldn’t be counting on a victory if I were you.”

“Now who’s being overly confident?” He kept an eye on the kids. Everyone was walking in a fairly orderly way into the building. “How about we say the loser cooks the winner dinner tonight.”

“Sounds perfect to me. You can cook?”

“No,” he quipped. “I’m just really hoping that I win.”

Rain began to fall in huge drops from dark clouds, tapping all around him, drenching him in only a few steps. He didn’t mind at all because she was at his side. He felt good—better than he could ever remember feeling—as he held open the door for her and followed her inside.

O
nce the hour of swimming lessons were through, Rebecca found herself treading water and unhooking the ropes that had divided the Olympic-size pool into stations for the different classes. She looked up to see Chad cutting smoothly through the blue water to help her.

He tossed her a friendly grin as he stopped on the other side of the rope. “You’re a really good swimmer.”

“Oh, does that surprise you?” She couldn’t help jesting just a little. After all, he had made an assumption that might be a tad erroneous and might work in her favor. What was he going to cook her for dinner? she wondered. Since he didn’t have any cooking skills, perhaps he could barbecue. A girl could always hope. “I’ve been swimming since I was little.”

“I guess I didn’t think you were the athletic sort.” He swiped a shank of wet hair out of his eye. “That will teach me to make assumptions. Luckily, I happen to be a superior swimmer and an excellent water polo player.”

“Me, too. Go ahead and talk yourself up, that still isn’t going to intimidate me. I intend to lead the girls to a victory.” She unhooked the rope and handed it to him. “Why don’t you prove your superior swimming skills and take this to the other side of the pool?”

“Now you’re mocking me.”

“Not me.” She backstroked to the next rope.

“Why do I have a feeling of impending doom?”

“No idea. But if I were you, I would be a tad nervous.”

“You have super water polo skills you’re not telling me about, don’t you?”

“Let’s just say I’m even better at volleyball.” She unhooked the last rope and looked across the rippling water to where Chad was treading water in place, watching her with the strangest look. Not of male superiority or of competition or even of doubt. No, he watched her with respect.

Yep, it was hard not to like the guy. She leaned back and kicked across the pool, taking the end of the rope with her. The buoys attached to it bobbed and dipped in the water. “Friday is volleyball.”

“I saw that on the schedule.” He kept pace with her although yards of water separated them. He wasn’t kidding; he was a strong swimmer. “You surprise me, Rebecca. I wouldn’t have pegged you for an athletic girl.”

“What does that mean?”

“I have no idea.” He chuckled, laughing at himself.

She liked that about him. That he wasn’t too serious, and yet he wasn’t too superficial, either. He understood about being friends. She was relieved not to have to worry about the whole girlfriend-boyfriend thing. That came with so many pressures and worries. She liked just being herself with him. She hoped he felt the same way.

They were getting nearer to the wall, where kids were milling around taking sides for the two teams and working out positions under the watchful eye of Marin and the other counselors. Rebecca climbed out and plopped onto the side. She wound up the rope, detached it and carried it to the storage closet where one of the pool staff took it from her.

Chad was on her heels. “I suppose this is where we part ways.”

“Yes. We’re enemies for the next forty-five minutes or so.”

“Remember our deal. What are the chances that you will be cooking my favorite meal tonight?”

“I’d put it in the zero percentile.” She stepped past him, her feet padding on the wet concrete. How fun was this?

Completely fun. She felt lighter than air as she padded down the deck toward her team. The little kids were clustering at one side of the shallow end, and the older kids in the deep end, which had been divided in half. The pool staff was tying in the goal baskets, a set for each game. The noise as everyone talked was deafening but wonderful.

Rebecca swam into the deep end, feeling great because of her policy. If she hadn’t stuck to her word last night, then maybe today would be different. Instead of feeling glad and light, she might well have been worrying about what to do with Chad.

She high-fived a few of her other team members and treaded water near the center line. She hadn’t realized how draining her previous relationship had been. This friendship thing was very freeing. She enjoyed being a single, independent woman, thank you very much.

“Captain, it’s good to see you’re in position.” From the deck, Marin gave her a wink. “Do you feel up to taking us to another win?”

“You know it.” While the competition was more lighthearted than serious, she wanted to do her part to boost team spirit. “I can taste victory.”

She felt a tingle on the back of her neck. She looked across the pool over the heads of the other players who were all milling around in excitement, ready to take their places to where Chad sat on the wall. He might be talking to some of his twelve-year-olds but his gaze was fastened on her. He gave her a salute and slipped into the water. He stroked toward her, moving with ease. He really was a good swimmer. Not that she was worried about losing, of course, but still, the game had just gotten very interesting.

She treaded water as he approached, and she felt all bright and shiny like a perfect summer’s day. She really liked that he offered her his hand in a shake—a sign of good sportsmanship. The shake was watery, but represented more. They were friends. She knew they were going to be really good friends as time went on. She liked that idea very much.

Dean, one of the other counselors, held up the ball, and Rebecca prepared herself to spring. She noticed Chad did the same. Since he was watching her instead of the ball, he was slow when Dean’s whistle blasted above the pool noise. She leaped, stretched as far as she could and tipped the ball toward her team. They were off to a promising start.

How had his side lost? Chad marveled about that through the rest of the afternoon and on the drive home. He could be a chauvinist and say that boys didn’t lose to girls, but that wasn’t like him. Not to mention, it wasn’t the issue. He was a good swimmer and a complete athlete. His twelve-year-olds were enthusiastic athletes. The other kids—eleven and ten-year-olds—were no slouches. And Dean, the other counselor on his side, was at MSU on a sports scholarship. All that, and they still lost.

Rebecca and her girls had taken the lead early, lost and recovered it by making the last four goals of the game. He didn’t know about the other guys, but he’d really had a workout. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. Now he was going to have to figure out what to do about dinner.

He pulled into his driveway and realized that a little red Honda was cruising down the road. He hit the garage remote and by the time he’d parked and dragged his duffel bag out from the backseat, she was idling in her driveway waiting for her door to open.

This was the moment of truth. He gave her a wave and there was no mistaking the grin on her face as she powered down her passenger side window.

“Hey there, stranger.” She slid the sunglasses down her nose. “What’s for dinner?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” He splayed his hands on the sun-warmed car door and peered through the open window at her. “I don’t suppose you’ll settle for takeout? I could serve it on plates in my kitchen?”

“Not a chance, mister. I’m in the mood for a homemade meal.”

“You’re torturing me. You know that, right?”

“I do.” She sparkled at him like the rarest of gems.

His chest tightened. He sure liked her. Very much. More and more as he spent time with her. The last thing he wanted to do was to disappoint her. “I don’t suppose microwaving a frozen dinner counts?”

“There has to be something you can cook. Barbecuing counts.”

“Whew. You just made my day. I happen to be a competent barbecuer.”

“Good. I’ll go in and change and be right over.”

“Wait. There is one little problem.”

“Problem?” She squinted up at him. “I’m afraid to ask.”

“Ephraim’s the owner of the barbecue and as far as I know, it’s out of propane.”

“Hard to barbecue without a heat source.” She folded her glasses and slid them into their leather case. “If you’re hoping that I will let you off the hook, then you are going to be one disappointed man.”

“I don’t want off the hook.”

“Good.” She liked the way he was so sincere in his reassurance. She always knew where she stood with him. “Then you can come over and use mine.”

“Great. That’s mighty generous of you, Rebecca, seeing as I’m the big loser here.”

“You’re not a loser from where I’m standing. You play a good game of water polo.”

“As do you. I had a lot of fun today.”

“Me, too. I’m looking forward to next week’s rematch.”

“I’ll see you in a few.” He pushed away from the car.

As she eased into the shade of the garage, why did her heart give a funny little skip? Sure, she was looking forward to spending the evening with him, but as friends only.

She grabbed her gym bag and purse and popped out of the seat. The garage door was motoring down when her cell rang. She juggled her keys, checked the screen and unlocked the inside garage door. “Hi, Spence.”

“You okay?” his baritone boomed like furious thunder.

Interpretation: I’m worried about you and don’t want to show it, so I’ll be extra gruff to hide it. She rolled her eyes. Men. She pushed into the laundry room and dropped her stuff on top of the dryer. “I’m fine. No worries. How are you?”

“Alive.”

Interpretation: I’m not telling you anything more. Rebecca rolled her eyes again, locked the door behind her and tumbled into the kitchen.

“Have you heard from him?” Spence barked into her ear.

“No. Chris hasn’t called or anything.” Sunlight slanted through the blinds, brightening up the oak cabinets and sleek marble counters. She yanked open the refrigerator door and grabbed a can of cherry soda. “Thanks for coming the way you did last night. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“He ought to leave you alone.”

Interpretation: I was glad to help. Rebecca knew she wasn’t imagining the slight warmth of her brother’s tone. Spence was a hard nut to crack, but she had figured out his code long ago. He was a great big brother. “I probably overreacted, but it meant a lot to know that you were there.”

“He doesn’t get to hurt you, Rebecca. I’m not going to let that happen.”

“I love you, too, you know.” She so wished Spence would open up, enough so that maybe a really nice woman could see the real Spence McKaslin. But she didn’t tell him that—mostly because she didn’t want to hear Spence’s bitter opinion on most women and the institution of marriage. She was starting to understand why he stayed single. It was so much easier not letting someone close enough to hurt you. If you didn’t trust anyone, then you couldn’t be shattered when things didn’t work out.

The note stuck to a magnet on her refrigerator door caught her eye, one she had written to herself. “Hey, Spence. I don’t think I can make it over to the bookstore when Lucy is there tomorrow. Would it be too much trouble to have her sign a copy of her new book for me?”

“Yes.”

This time she couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. She popped the can’s top. “Lucy has a book signing tomorrow. Remember?”

“I try not to pay attention to that woman. Danielle handles the signings. I have a church meeting tomorrow.”

What was up with Spence? He sounded even surlier than usual. “Then I guess I’ll talk to Danielle.”

“You let me know if you have any more trouble with that boy.”

“I will.” Rebecca wandered into the hallway and bumped down the thermostat. The air conditioner clicked on. “Thanks again, Spence.”

“Bye.”

Interpretation: You’re welcome. The phone disconnected and she ended the call. Spence. She thought of her brother, who was probably still at the bookstore working late as he always did. The only problem was that he wasn’t at peace. She prayed that one day he would find happiness with the right someone.

Her phone jangled. It was a text message from Chad.

Hot dogs ok? he’d written.

My fave, she answered back.

In her bedroom, she exchanged her jeans and camp T-shirt for a light summer top and matching walking shorts. She was digging in the back of the closet for her favorite casual sandals when her phone trilled again.

Chips or fries? he asked.

Chips. I have a killer dip, she wrote back.

Fab. Coming over.

She had enough time to reach the patio before he came ambling up with a paper bag half-full. He’d changed, too. He was wearing denim cutoffs and a gray T-shirt. There was something about a man with groceries, she decided. Somehow he looked more handsome as he laid down his load on the bistro table.

“You look prepared.” She took a peek into the bag. “I have mustard and mayo, you know. I even have relish.”

“So do I, and as I remember I’m the one providing the meal.” He plucked a packet of matches from the sack. “I even brought soda, but now I see from what you’re drinking that I brought the wrong kind. Black cherry soda. I’ll have to remember that in case I lose another competition sometime. Not that I’m planning on it.”

“Of course not. But this way you can be prepared for next week’s defeat.” That made him laugh, and she discovered she liked making him laugh. “I see you brought everything but dessert. I have two grape Popsicle treats left in the freezer.”