“Passing through?” he asked. “Or do you have family here?”
“Kind of both. I’m spending the holidays with my cousin. She lives in Atlanta. She’s meeting me here. I’m Vanessa.”
“How’d you pick Fraser Hills?”
“Long story, but we’re hoping for a picture-perfect white Christmas.”
“We’ve had a white Christmas in this town the last ten years running. I think you’re in luck.”
“That’s wonderful news.”
“Are you going to talk to the pretty lady the whole game?” His buddy nudged him. “You could probably just sit back there.”
He flushed. “Sorry.” He turned in his seat farther from his nosy friend, then stage-whispered, “Nice to meet you.” Then faced the field.
She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Nice meeting you too.”
The Falcons ran the next play all the way to the end zone and the locals went crazy. The band played a victory song andfans were on their feet high-fiving. There were even a couple of belly-bumps as the guys grunted their approval.
She was on her feet too, but she never saw the elbow coming that slung her cup of chicken stew from her hand all down the front of her coat.
“No!” She twisted aside, but could only move so far with everyone on their feet around her. “Oh, my goodness” followed her gasp. She grabbed for her scarf and started dabbing at the mess.
Mike turned and his eyes went wide. “Did I? Did we just do that? Oh, no. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. It was almost gone.” Not quite true, but it seemed like the right thing to say. “Oh goodness.” Now her hands were wet and sticky too.
“Great first impression,” the guy next to him said.
“I’ll go get you another—”
“No. Please don’t. Not necessary,” Vanessa said. “Really. It was delicious, but I had enough.”
“I’m sure.” He snorted. “You think that was good chicken stew, you should try mine. I’m known for the best chicken stew in this town. Your cup would have been empty, and you’d have been wishing for more.”
“Are you bragging?” She raised an eyebrow and giggled.
His friend nodded. “His is the best.”
“See?” Mike said. “Not bragging if it’s true.”
“Well, that’s a little hard to believe, because this was pretty darn good.” She held the now-empty cup in the air.
“Naw.” He shook his head. “You just don’t know any better, and I can prove it.”
She swept a hand over her damp coat, hoping the milkwouldn’t sour before she could find a dry cleaner. “Prove what? That it’ll taste better than what’s on my coat?”
“Let me make you somegoodchicken stew. It’s the least I can do. And I promise not to spill it on you.”
Something in the way he looked at her with his playful green eyes held her for a half second too long, and before she could stop herself, she said, “You’re on. Name the time and place.”
The corner of his lip rose. “Right after the Christmas parade. Everyone goes. We can meet in front of the fire station around two forty-five?”
Am I actually considering this?“Okay. That sounds fun. I’ll be there.”
“Great.” He quickly recomposed. “Wait. You’re serious, right?”
“Yeah. Really.” Only she had no idea why she was agreeing. Trying to look sure of herself, she took his phone from his shirt pocket and punched in her number, then hit dial. Her phone rang. “All set. Call me if anything changes.”
