Instead of simmering on the high school memories, Melanie removed a pole from the tube and sighed.
“You still have it.”
“They’re expensive. Until they break or crack, we don’t get rid of them.”
She wedged the pole against the bottom of the shed and leaned into it. Where she once bent the pole with ease, she could already tell she’d lost the upper body strength to use the thing.
“You wanna try?” Wyatt asked.
“Vaulting?”
“Since breaking and entering has been mastered . . .”
Melanie shook her head with a roll of her eyes. “I know the sheriff. And besides, she had the key made.”
Wyatt offered a dimpled smile. “I’m learning new things every day with you in town.” He moved away from the container and over to the pit. “They say it’s like riding a bike.”
“They do not!”
“They do.”
She planted the pole into the box and attempted to bend it again. “Who are they anyway?”
“Life’s cheerleaders.”
Melanie cringed. “Fake smiles and pom-poms . . . what do they know?”
“Don’t be hating.”
She took a few steps back and lifted the eleven-foot pole before letting the end come down with a bounce. “I’m not hating. Just not a fan.”
“Yet you were on the squad.”
She offered a glance over her shoulder, found his eyes snapping up from his gaze lingering on her butt. “Checking me out again?”
It was his turn to be flustered.
“Yes . . . no . . . I mean. Your friend Margie told me you were on the squad.”
“Nice change of subject. And Margie is an old acquaintance, not a friend. Not to mention the reason I stopped cheer.”
“Oh?”
“It was high school. Boyfriends were passed around and feelings were hurt. I’m sure it hasn’t changed.” Her eyes drifted to the stands where she assumed the current cheerleading team sat watching their football-playing boyfriends.
“So she broke the girl code.”
Melanie leaned on the pole and smiled. “I ended up here and she had her heart stomped on. I won.”
“These reunions always drag up old drama. There is seldom a year that goes by that there isn’t some kind of fight.”
“Really?”
“Not a fistfight . . . well, I’ve seen one of those, but catfights are entertaining.”
“That’s stupid. We’re adults now.”
“I’m just reporting the facts as I’ve seen them. It seems River Bend has a few unsolved dramas that need to be worked out.”
Wyatt sat on the edge of the pit and leaned against his jean-clad thighs.
“What about you? Did you have any drama when you went to your reunion?”
“It isn’t until next year. I’ll let you know.”
She knew it, he was younger. “Are you going to go?”
“Haven’t decided. I might.” He nodded toward the pit. “Now, are you going to jump on the pole or just fondle it all day?”
She glanced at her hands gripping the tape.
Wyatt laughed.
“I’m not going to get flustered,” she muttered.
“Too late.”
Yeah, it was too late. She returned to the shed and lifted the pole back into its home. The fit was tight and she gave it a good shove. Wyatt had moved beside her and placed his hand next to hers to push it in. For a man living in Oregon, he sure had a nice tan. Well, what she could see of it in any event. “I understand if you’re too scared to try.”
“I’m not scared . . .”
“If you say so.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed past him to close the heavy doors. “You’re a bully,” she told him.
He took the lock from her hands, the heat of them shot up her arms.
“I usually get what I want,” he said without shame.
“Like a bully.”
“Like a coach,” he countered.
He reached around her, not giving her much room to move away, and clicked the lock in place.
“I can move,” she told him.
He was close enough to smell the rich pine of his skin.
“But I like you right here.”
Oh, yeah . . . she enjoyed it, too, but she wasn’t about to tell him so. “Like a coach?”
He shook his head. “Like a man.”
There she was, all flustered and not moving away. “I think you like making me blush.”
“Guilty.” His voice had dropped and his eyes lingered on her lips.
Every cell inside her shivered.
She swayed a little closer, gripped the side of the shed to keep from being pulled into his gravity. “I have a kid,” she blurted out.
“I know. We’ve met.” He lifted a hand and brushed a lock of her hair away from her face.
“You’re younger than me.”
He offered a laugh. “Cougar material.”
It was her turn to grin. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
Wyatt left his hand on the side of her face and forced her to meet his gaze. “Do you always talk when a man is about to kiss you?”
Great, she hadn’t missed the signals.
God, he was going to kiss her. Was she ready for that?
“I talk when I’m nervous.”
“I make you nervous?”
“You zap my brain cells.” She hadn’t meant to say that.
“A talent I didn’t know I had.” He moved closer.
She stiffened. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”
He stopped moving, ran his thumb along her lower lip.