drama and craziness?”
Amanda pulled her lower lip between her teeth and then turned her head to look out the window. Moonlight hit the apple trees blooming pink and white in the fields surrounding them. The pear and peach trees behind the main house would bloom later in the spring. He wondered what she saw in the fields. Did she see the security he saw? Or did she see only trees?
“This is dangerous, Amanda. Can’t you see that?”
“It was just a prank, and now it’s nothing because the fuse has already been lit once. They’ll be expecting it.”
Collin pulled the truck to a stop at the side of the main house and blew out a breath. “Pranks hurt people, Amanda—”
“It was just going to be a joke, Collin, jeez.”
“And speeding down Main Street was a joke? What if some kid ran out into the street chasing his ball? Would that have been a joke?” Her face paled, but Amanda kept her mouth in that stubborn line. “What if the detergent trick had clogged the line and flooded someone’s house? Or if the stupid bubbles had blocked part of the road? Just another funny?”
“None of those things happened. And you and Mara did worse.”
“That isn’t the point.”
“Of course it isn’t. The point is I screwed up. Again. I’m not the amazing, the wonderful, the never-get-caught Collin Tyler, football hero and member of the Sailor Five. I’m just Amanda. The forgettable,” she said, grabbing her backpack and running from the truck. Amanda slammed the front door, making the spring wreath of tulips bounce against the wood.
Sailor Five. Damn it, anyway. He’d been part of a winning football team, along with James, Levi Walters, Aiden and Adam Buchanan. Yes, winning the state football championship was a big deal, and yes, the five of them, along with Mara, had pulled their share of pranks and gotten away with it. Was that what this was all about? Amanda felt she was, what, being overshadowed by something he did in high school? That was just silly. The Sailor Five was in the past. Tyler Orchard, their family, their friends, those were the things that were important.
He should follow her. Go upstairs and make her talk to him. He wasn’t some infallible god. The last four months were evidence enough of that. But going after Amanda would just lead to another misunderstanding. He would let her cool down. They could talk again in the morning.
God, he was so out of his depth.
“HOW DID YOU not know she was back in town?” Adam Buchanan narrowed his eyes at the dartboard six feet in front of him, cocked his arm and threw. The dart embedded itself into the paneled wall several inches to the right of its target.
“It’s called having a life. You should try it sometime.” Collin marked down the missed shot and then gathered the darts for the next round. He, Adam, Levi and James had been playing darts at the Slippery Slope every Wednesday night for the past few years. Ever since Levi had ripped up his knee tackling a wide receiver in the first game of his team’s playoff matchup.
Adam snorted. “Since when did working 24/7 constitute having a life?”
“Adam.” Levi kept his voice low but the authority behind it was unmistakable. This was the captain of their football team talking and it annoyed the bejesus out of Collin. He could fight his own battles. And this wasn’t a battle; this was Adam being a jackass because he was bored. And Collin lying through his teeth to his three best friends because, damn it, since he’d run into Savannah Walters on the road outside of town, he’d been hard-pressed to keep her out of his head. That had been nearly a week ago. He should have forgotten about a ten-minute conversation and gas tank fill-up by now.
“Since working 24/7 got the orchard out of hock, that’s when. Some of us don’t have the luxury of working for Daddy.”
“Just play darts.” Levi put the red-winged darts in Collin’s hand and gave the blue ones to James.
When they’d started playing, darts was a way to get Levi’s uber-competitive mind off his ruined football career and onto something else. Now, eighteen months later, it was habit. One Collin had never thought about changing until tonight. He took aim, and his dart landed on the twenty triangle. James threw and hit fifteen.
He should have stayed home with Amanda. God knew his baby sister could use a little more attention thrown her way. He could have gone over the projections for harvest, finished that proposal for the organic chef’s association. The orchard was on stable financial ground for the first time in years, and now was so not the time to slack off. This was the time to build something that would last more than a lifetime.
“I’m not the one mooning over a girl at the bar,” Adam said, and took a long drink of his beer.
Collin aimed again and hit the ten. James hit another fifteen.
“She’s not just any girl. That’s a fine looking—” James started.
Levi cut him off. “Before you say something you might regret, J, that’s my baby sister over there.”
Screw darts. Collin tossed his last dart toward Adam’s head. It landed harmlessly on the Formica tabletop. “I’m not mooning over anyth—”
“Sure you are, Col.” Levi picked the dart off the table and pulled the others from the paneling around the board. “Let’s start the next round.” He took up position and began throwing, narrowing his eyes as he took aim just as he’d done when they’d been kids playing football. Levi had been the quarterback, Collin and James the receivers, and Adam and his twin Aiden the defensive specialists. After practices or game nights, they would sneak in here, and Merle, the owner and bartender, would let them stay as long as they didn’t try to scam drinks from any of the patrons.
Collin looked around the dingy bar. The same neon strip was burned out of the beer sign behind the bar. Same cowhide-covered bar stools. Merle wiped down the bar this evening, entertaining Savannah and her giggling gaggle of former high-school cheerleaders.
Three of whom Collin had dated.
Not that Savannah would care.
Not that he should care if Savannah did care.
One of the women at the bar said something, and Savannah threw her head back, mahogany hair cascading past her shoulders in a mass of waves, and laughed like she was at a freaking Kevin Hart show.
He wasn’t mooning. He was distracted, maybe. It wasn’t every day a woman walked into the Slope wearing a rhinestone party dress and high-heeled, over-the-knee boots. What the hell was Savannah thinking anyway?
“You’re up.”
Not that she didn’t look good in the dress that cinched tightly around her waist. And she’d learned a few new makeup tricks since she’d left town. That had to be the reason her eyes were so luminous.
“Collin.”
And her hair had always been the color of rich wood, but it hadn’t always been that thick, had it?
“Coll.”
A
