Picket Fence Pursuit (2 page)

“It’s like this. I’m not interested in any yahoos.”

Ryan stopped at the woman’s words. That sounded just like the lady from yesterday who’d been covered in chocolate ice cream. He sneaked a peek around the corner. It was her; and the same dark-haired girl was with her.

“I don’t want a yahoo, either, but you’re too picky,” the black-haired woman answered.

“Robin, you have to have priorities.”

“And I don’t?”

The blond smirked, then smiled. “Did I say that?”

“All right, Ms. Hoity-Toity, what are your priorities?”

“First,” she said and lifted her finger, “he must be a Christian.”

Ryan smiled. He agreed with her first.

“Duh,” responded the one the blond called Robin.

“Second, he must love me and want a family, but not too big and not too small.”

“Here we go again, Goldilocks.”

The blond stomped her foot. “Do you want to hear my priorities or not?”

“Go ahead.”

“He has to be strong but gentle, kind but firm, athletic but homey—”

“Homey?”

“You know, not be afraid to do the dishes, clean the toilets, and all that stuff.”

“I
totally
agree with you there.”

Ryan held a chuckle inside. This conversation was classic. What does a woman want? Ryan Watkins was getting the privilege of learning firsthand.

“Of course he has to have a good, stable job. Secure. I will not even consider a yahoo. Looks mean nothing.”

Robin frowned. “Nothing?”

“Well, maybe a little bit. I don’t want ugly kids, but gorgeous, blue eyes are at the bottom of the list.”

“Let me get this straight. You want a successful, Christian husband, your own great job, and 2.5 kids. Do you also want the dog and white picket fence?”

The blond leaned against the counter. “The dog is open for discussion, but the picket fence is crucial, and yes, it must be white.”

Robin flung back her head and laughed. “Why is that?”

“What perfect, established, successful family do you know that doesn’t have a white picket fence?”

“You need serious help.”

Red scoured up the blond’s neck and flushed her cheeks. Ryan decided he’d better announce himself or the black-haired gal may end up covered in ice cream. . .again. Opening the concession door, Ryan stepped in and bowed. “One certified yahoo reporting for duty.”

“Me, too.” Robin looked at the floor like a scolded puppy. “You know I’m uncontrollably silly sometimes. I wasn’t trying to be mean.”

Swallowing hard, Kylie forced a grin. “Of course you were
teasing. I know that. I love a good joke.” She choked up a
laugh.

Ryan extended his hand. “Forgive me?”

“Of course.” Without looking at him, Kylie accepted his hand for an instant, then grabbed her purse tighter. “Robin, are you ready to go?” She tried to sound light, but she knew this Ryan Watkins had seen to her soul. He knew he’d bruised her ego, and he was genuinely sorry.

How she wished to be more like Robin—free and glib. Instead, Kylie was sensitive and sentimental and entirely too vulnerable. She didn’t like that Ryan had seen that in her.

Walking toward the car, Kylie fought to keep her chin up. She focused on trying to find her keys in her purse.

“I’m sorry, Kylie. Usually you go right along with the teasing. You know I’d never intentionally hurt your feelings. You’re my best friend.”

“I know. I don’t know why I’m being so sensitive.”

“You must like him.”

Kylie gasped and gawked at her friend. “What? I—I don’t even know him.”

“Either that or you’re worried about your accounting grade.”

“The latter, I’m sure.”

Kylie found her keys and gripped them in her hand. The truth was, she had gotten more upset than normal. Usually when Robin teased, Kylie laughed it off. Today, it hurt. Maybe it was Ryan’s teasing that hurt.

❧

Ryan sat in the church pew, pulling miserably at his shirt collar. A dress shirt and sport coat were not his favorite attire. He’d wear them only to Sunday morning church services. And only for Gramps. Many of the congregation opted for a more casual attire, but Gramps was from the old school. A person dressed up on Sundays, and until Gramps decided otherwise, Ryan would respect that and dress up, as well.

Ryan pulled at the shoulder of his sport coat. The thing was too small. He needed to buy a new one. He sighed.
For Gramps, dressing up is a small price to pay.
At least most times it was. Today, Ryan felt as if he were suffocating.

“Why, Ryan, imagine seeing you here.”

Ryan looked toward the voice that sounded very much like Robin Reed’s. His mouth fell open when he saw her. “Hi.” He stood and shook her hand. “I didn’t know you came to church here.”

“Actually, we’re visiting. We attended church in Evansville for the last three years, but now that we’re living near Santa Claus, we’re looking for something closer. We never joined the church near school. We’re hoping to find a home church now that we’re getting closer to graduating.”

“So you’re both from Evansville?”

“Otwell, actually. Our fathers are coal miners. We’ve been best friends since birth, so we decided to go to college in Evansville together, too.”

“How did you end up here?”

“My uncle owns an apartment building. He’s letting us live in one of the apartments in exchange for keeping up the yard work.” Robin smacked her hands together. “The deal was too good for two college gals to pass up.”

Ryan nodded. “That’s for sure. Where is Kylie?” He still felt bad for the way he’d teased her at work. Though a kidder at heart, he wasn’t usually cruel. Something about her drew him, and he hadn’t expected it, hadn’t known how to handle it.

“Rest room.”

“Oh.”

“Ahem.” Ryan glanced at his grandfather, who had grabbed the pew in front of him and was getting ready to stand.

Ryan grinned. “I’m sorry. Gramps, this is Robin. Robin,
Gramps.”

Gramps grabbed her hand and winked. “I reckon you can
call me Gramps.”

“I’d love to.”

Kylie walked toward them. She was fumbling through her purse. “Robin, I found a couple of seats on the other side.” She looked up. Her light skin flamed red. “Oh—um—I didn’t see you.” She looked at her bag again. “Hi, Ryan.”

Ryan’s heart sped up. Yes, something about Kylie definitely drew him. He could tell she had confidence, yet she seemed so vulnerable. Maybe that was what beckoned him. He’d always fought for the underdog. But Kylie wasn’t an underdog. And what about the way her creamy cheeks and neck shaded crimson? He found it endearing, almost inviting.

Gramps pushed past him and grabbed Kylie’s hand. “Hi, sweetie. I’m Gramps.”

“Kylie.” She smiled and lifted her chin. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“Won’t you two sit here beside me?” Gramps pulled her hand toward him.

“Well. . .” She glanced at Ryan. He could see her confidence wane again.

“Of course we will.” Robin scooted past all three of them and sat, leaving a space for Kylie to sit by Gramps.

Kylie nodded and followed Robin. Ryan inhaled cocoa butter as she passed and longed for his sunglasses, swimsuit, and a beach.

After they sat, Ryan sneeked a peek at Gramps. He patted Kylie’s hand. “After the services, Ryan and I will treat you to the best Italian food you’ve ever tasted.”

Gramps hadn’t requested. He’d simply made a decision. Ryan glanced at Kylie. She smiled and nodded, but Ryan would have given a hundred bucks to cruise the inside of her mind. He had a feeling agreement wouldn’t be there.

❧

Kylie lifted her purse strap higher on her shoulder as
she walked through the door of Marinelli’s. A blast of air-
conditioning blew through her hair, and she shuddered.
That’s just great.
Because of her nerves, her body was already shaking of its own volition. She didn’t need a second excuse.

The Sunday afternoon lunch crowd gathered around them. Ryan’s grandfather and Robin moved to one side, chatting about weather conditions. Kylie knew the conversation could go on for hours since meteorology had once-upon-a-time been Robin’s major and obviously the older man’s favorite pastime.

Kylie moved to the other side. Something poked her in the back. She turned around to find Ryan shifting his arm around her as another couple squished through the door behind him. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Kylie shuddered again. Aggravated, she folded her arms in front of her chest. She had absolutely no reason to feel insecure, shy, or anything else in front of Ryan. He was simply a guy, a loser, in fact, according to her list of who could be considered potential date material.

She glanced at him. His light auburn curls lay softly around his head. The shaggy style appealed to her more than she’d have thought possible, in a silly, kind of goofy way.

He caught her looking at him. Heat flooded her cheeks and she averted her gaze, but not before Kylie noticed his eyes could challenge the ocean for beauty rights. She felt him looking at her. The knowledge stirred her insides, making her shudder a third time.

“Are you cold?”

“A little.” She wanted to crumble under the concern in his voice.

“Here.” Ryan took off his sports jacket and dropped it over her shoulders.

Why had she chosen to wear a sleeveless dress? A light sweater would have been appropriate for the middle of May. The uncommonly warm weather had her brain fuzzy. The smell of men’s Obsession cologne was making it worse. She needed to sit down.

“Are you all right?” Ryan touched her arm.

She looked up at him, praying the earth would just open and swallow her whole. “I’m—”

“Watkins. Party of four.”

“That’s us. Take my hand.”

Before she could respond, Ryan grabbed her hand and led her toward the hostess. His hand felt warm, a bit rough—and safe. Kylie focused on putting one foot in front of the other. She was determined not to think about his strong hand, his firm grip.

Once they reached the table, Ryan pulled out her chair and Kylie sat. Looking around she realized Gramps and Robin were already seated. Robin raised her eyebrows in obvious question, and Kylie looked away from her. Ryan’s coat still hung from her shoulders. Kylie pondered taking it off but knew she’d shake through the whole meal.
If I act natural no one will think anything about it.

She tried to act natural as she pushed each arm through the sleeves. Smiling, she looked around as if nothing was wrong. Her left hand knocked a glass.
Oh no.
She spied the water and tried to grab the glass. It teetered and wobbled before spilling all over the table.

Utensils clinked against the table as Ryan yanked up his cloth napkin. Robin lifted the tablecloth to keep the stream of water from landing on her, but succeeded in altering its way toward Kylie. Before Kylie could stop it, the frigid liquid poured onto her lap.

“Ah!” She jumped up, knocking her chair against the person behind her. Turning to him she shook her head, willing back tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Kylie.” Ryan stood and grabbed her arm. She faced him, and he placed a clean napkin in her hand. “It’s okay.”

His voice was soft and soothing, like a gentle caress. His gaze was sweet and sincere. A single tear threatened to slip down her cheek. She blinked it back as she looked at her dress.
What is wrong with me?

Ryan gently swiped her cheek with his back of his hand. Stunned, Kylie looked up at him. Surprise washed his face, as well. He stepped back and sat in his chair.

“I’ll go to the rest room with you, if you want.”

Kylie stared at Robin. Realizing she still stood, she brushed her dress and shook her head. “It’s just water. It’ll dry.”

Determined to regain control of her body and emotions, Kylie replaced her chair in its place, smiled a second apology at the man behind her, and then sat. Grabbing her menu, Kylie studied it. The words blurred, and heat rushed up her cheeks as she thought of what she must have looked like only moments before.
Stop it.
She scooted in her chair and focused harder on the menu. When the words continued to jumble, Kylie closed her eyes.
I’ll just order spaghetti. Every Italian restaurant has that.

“Do you guys know what you want?” Robin studied the menu. She opened the inside flap, then shut it again.

“My favorite is veal parmesan,” answered Ryan.

“I’m getting lasagna. I always get lasagna.” Gramps nodded at Ryan. “Don’t I?”

“You sure do.” Ryan smiled and picked up his glass of
water. He took a drink. “What did you think about Pastor Chambers’s sermon today?” He placed the glass back on the table.

“Good. Good. Did you see Elma’s hair? The woman dyed it blue. Can you believe that? Was pink. Now, blue.” Gramps snorted and shook his head.

Kylie settled back in the chair. She concentrated on keeping her breathing steady. She’d never before been such a bundle of nerves in front of a guy. Ryan wasn’t even her type. He was a hippie wannabe with that shaggy haircut, or rather lack of cut. And red. She’d never liked redheads. Well, truth be told, his was a bit more of an auburn, but still it had quite a bit of red in it.

And his clothes. His red and navy blue plaid shirt was definitely a size too small and obviously uncomfortable. His khakis had seen better days, as well. Kylie had always envisioned herself with a man in a wrinkle-free, high-dollar suit that fit to exemplary perfection.