attention span of someone with ADD hopped up on caffeine. Kieran’s melancholy gaze had already drifted to the totaled Harley motorcycle parked in the corner of the garage.
“It’s a crying shame, isn’t it?” Kieran said.
“Most definitely.”
“Too bad your specialty isn’t motorcycles instead of Mustangs.”
“I used to know a guy named David in auto shop who loved bikes. Want me to look him up for you?”
“Your mother would divorce me if I ever got back on one of those babies.”
“You’ve got a point.”
“Hey, let me run something by you,” Kieran said, shifting to yet another topic as he rolled his motorized wheelchair into the garage.
“I want you to help out Jocelyn with our annual athletic department fund-raiser.”
“Dad, I’m really not interested in …”
“I need you to help me, Lucas. I can do all the phoning and can make contacts with vendors and solicit donations, but I need you to be my legs.” Dad looked earnest, the corners of his blue eyes crinkled and staring Lucas down. “Jocelyn’s great. But the thing is, she doesn’t think she can sub for me as coach because she lost her track scholarship when she was at the university and she’s insecure. She needs help with the fundraiser and track. And that’s where I need to throw her a crumb—you. Not that you’re a crumb.”
This was the first Lucas had heard about Jocelyn bombing out of her scholarship. Hmm. She bombed out. He slacked. Maybe he and Jocelyn had more in common than he ever thought.
“This is our big fund-raiser for the entire year. I need someone to watch over Jocelyn, help her out and report back to me. Someone to be my eyes and ears until I can be there myself.”
“Your snoop, you mean.”
“That’s just an added bonus.” Kieran looked serious. “I really need your help. She needs your help. The Whispering Oaks track team needs your help. I’m not sure I’m ever going to be able to be head coach again, and this team has lots of potential.”
“I feel so special.” Lucas put splayed fingers over his chest.
The old man was laying it on pretty thick. Despite himself, Lucas listened with great interest, wondering how he’d let himself get sucked into the plan. Oh, right. He was the coach’s son.
As he listened to his dad, Lucas stuck the key into the ignition of the Mustang, turned it and after a few rum-rum-rums, a tingle of excitement bled out from his chest as the engine almost turned over before moaning like a distressed horse.
“I thought you already jumped the battery with my cables,” Kieran said.
“I did one better. I bought a new one,” Lucas said. “It started okay earlier. Maybe it’s the alternator.” If he turned out to be right about the alternator, as soon as he cashed his last check he’d buy a new one, which was no easy feat when dealing with classic cars. He’d have to get online tonight and research a few possibilities. Good thing he’d saved up substantially during his army stint because the car could suck him dry. In the meantime, he’d have to wait to take his baby for a test-drive.
Lucas shut the hood and wiped his hands, turning in time to see Jocelyn walk up. She wore tan cropped pants, double-layered tank tops in bright yellow and dark orange, flashy gladiator sandals and even had a pedicure complete with a tiny flower on each big toe. Nice.
“Hi, Lucas,” Jocelyn said, losing her step on the gravel. She opened her arms, and he gave her a quick one-arm hug, feeling uncomfortable. Seeing her now was nothing like the other day when it was just the two of them. Anne was bound to make a big deal out of them meeting up again. His dad wanted him to help her coach. The whole situation made him tense. The last thing he needed was pressure over anything. Not in his state.
Jocelyn stepped back uncertainly. “How are you?” she asked.
“Fine. Just fine.” He glanced at the ground, molars pressed tight. “I hear you’re house-sitting for your parents.”
“Yeah, they’re finally taking that RV road trip they’ve always dreamed about.”
“There she is,” Kieran said, rolling out of the garage, Bart tugging on the knotted rope in his hand.
“You wanted to talk to me, Coach Grady?” Jocelyn asked. To Lucas, she sounded relieved to have a purpose for being there.
Lucas chuckled. “He’s got big plans for the fundraiser this year. How are you at being micromanaged?”
“I’m right here and I can hear you,” Dad said, droll as ever.
In jest, Lucas flashed her a warning glance. “Let me know if you need backup.”
“That’s the last time I run my game plans by you,” Kieran muttered, obviously unfazed by Lucas’s jab, maybe even enjoying the guy banter.
“I guess I’d better see what you’ve got in mind.” Jocelyn tossed Lucas a playful look, stepped behind the wheelchair and rolled it toward the back door, which had a makeshift ramp. She glanced over her shoulder and mouthed “thanks.”
“Good luck.” He raised a brow and enjoyed the color tinting her cheeks when she smiled.
“Don’t listen to him, Jocelyn,” Kieran said, sounding anything but perturbed.
He watched Jocelyn push his father into the house, liking the sway of her hips, then glanced up to find Anne watching him. Yeah, snoopy big sisters noticed stuff like that.
“Aren’t you supposed to be barbecuing?” he said.
Once Kieran and Jocelyn were well inside the house, Anne used her playground whisper. “She is so adorable, don’t you think?”
“Back off, Sis,” he said, heading toward the garage.
He didn’t mean to snap at Anne, but his father had already laid out his cockamamie plan for Lucas to help with the sports department fund-raiser. He didn’t need his sister playing matchmaker on top of that.
Sure, being the coach’s kid, he’d attended the annual athletic event since he was little and had always enjoyed it, but never did he ever want to help plan it. Too bad Anne wasn’t sticking around. That was more her thing.
He didn’t appreciate the obvious matchmaking on his father’s part, either. Now, with Anne’s comments, he was beginning to feel the brunt of a family conspiracy. Guess what, folks—I’m not looking for a girlfriend.
If his dad was trying to get him some job experience by asking him to look after Jocelyn, he was barking up the wrong tree. Chasing a bunch of teen runners around the Tartan track would have about as much clout on his thin résumé as being a medic in the army would in getting a job in a hospital. Unless he went back to school, there wasn’t a place in California that would hire him without a degree. Good thing he had that small nest egg saved up.
College. The last thing he felt like doing was going back to school. But it seemed like the only option
