He had imagined there would be some questions about Nic and him. After all, they were both single, and she was pretty and personable. Fascinating, actually, with her straightforward manner and her spunky individuality.
Some of his old friends probably thought he was crazy for not making a move on her. Or perhaps they thought he was still too tied up in his grief to consider being with another woman.
He wondered if they would understand if he told them that his reasons for keeping a safe distance between himself and Nic were more complicated than that. After all, she had been involved with someone else when they’d met, so they became friends without considering anything more at first. And now that friendship meant so much to him that he couldn’t imagine doing anything to potentially mess it up.
Besides, judging from her last boyfriend, he was hardly her type. He was downright dull compared to party-guy Brad. Settled, routine-bound, unadventurous—the very opposite of skydiving, bull-riding, extreme-sports-loving Brad.
And now he had subjected her to this—the scrutiny of his old friends, strangers to her, and his family, all of whom seemed compelled to treat her like some sort of oddity. Because she was so refreshingly different? Or simply because she was with him?
During the third quarter she decided she wanted a soft drink from the concessions stand. Joel immediately offered to get it for her, but she declined, telling him she needed to stretch her legs.
“She’s something else, Joel,” Ernie confided when Nic was gone. “How’d you meet a cute cop, anyway?”
“She lives next door to me in Cabot,” Joel reminded him. “We’re neighbors and friends. She needed a break from work and I wanted company for the trip here, so she agreed to come along with me.”
“So there’s nothing going on between the two of you?” Earl inquired.
Aware of several pairs of ears listening for the answer to that question, Joel forced a smile. “We’re friends,” he repeated. “Good friends, obviously, since she was willing to accompany me to a high school reunion.”
“So there’s nothing…uh…?”
“Friends,” Joel said firmly.
“Of course they’re just friends,” Heidi said with a wave of one red-tipped hand. “I could see that right away. Nicole is a lovely girl but hardly Joel’s type.”
Joel felt his eyebrows rise, but he bit back the obvious question. He really didn’t want to get into one of those discussions with Heidi this evening.
As fond as he was of Heidi, she had a bad habit of thinking she knew what was best for everyone else. She’d told him once that she’d always fantasized about having a syndicated advice column because she thought she was pretty good at solving other people’s problems. She just had a talent, she had added with no attempt at modesty.
She had contented herself with running his father’s orthodontia business—and the personal lives of everyone else who worked there—serving as perpetual president of the local PTA, chairing half a dozen committees for church and social organizations and organizing periodic reunions of her high school class. Her friends tolerated her for the most part, understanding that a kind heart and good intentions lay behind her bossiness. A few people disliked her and avoided her as much as possible.
Joel liked her well enough but was secretly glad he lived in another state.
Even knowing better than to get into a debate with Heidi, he was tempted to ask exactly why she seemed so adamant that he and Nic were mismatched. Was it only because Nic was so very different than Heather? And did Heidi really believe he would look for someone exactly like Heather if he were to consider marrying again?
Nic dropped onto the bench beside him, offering him one of the two sodas she’d brought with her, and then set a bag of popcorn between them to share. Considering the timing of her appearance, Joel wondered if she had overheard Heidi’s comment. If she had, he couldn’t tell from her expression, which revealed nothing of her thoughts as she tossed a handful of popcorn into her mouth and turned her attention to the game again.
For some reason, Joel had to pretty much force his own gaze away from Nic’s face. He assured himself that the fact that he found her much more interesting than the game wasn’t particularly significant—despite what any of his friends might think.
The Danston Cardinals won by a field goal. After cheering until they were hoarse, the home crowd began to move toward the exits. To keep from losing each other in the stampede, Joel and Nic held hands on their way out of the stadium. Their progress was slow, especially since people kept stopping Joel to chat with him. Nic moved along patiently beside him, buoyed by the good spirits of the home team supporters.
She had spotted the security officers on-site, of course. She had worked sporting events herself on plenty of occasions. Yet there was no officer visible when she noticed a group of perhaps ten boys, roughly half wearing Cardinals red, the others in Pirates black and purple, all squaring off in a shadowy corner of the lot. She drew her hand out of Joel’s loose grip.
“Great,” she murmured in resignation just as one boy took a swing at another.
It was strictly instinct that had her running forward, right into the path of a swinging fist.
Dodging the punch with the skill of experience, Nic grabbed the most aggressive boy by the collar and jerked him backward. “Break it up!” she shouted, throwing up a hand to hold off another would-be fighter. “Now!”
The boy she was detaining surged forward when one of the others jeered at him for being collared by a “little lady.” A moment later Nic had his arm twisted behind him. The furious teenager winced when she pushed upward, making it very clear that what was merely discomfort now could easily become real pain.
“Keep fighting me and you’re going to be eating asphalt,” she advised him loudly enough to be heard over the din. She jerked upward on his arm again to punctuate the threat.
He stilled reluctantly, and by that time several other people had arrived to help break up the fight, including Joel, the Watson twins and a uniformed officer. After some stern warnings, the boys were sent on their separate ways.
Instinctively recognizing another cop, the officer chatted with Nic for a few minutes, and then Nic turned to Joel to let him know she was ready to go. Once again she was all too aware of being the center of his former classmates’ attention.
She suppressed a wince as she realized how she must have looked charging into a fight and grabbing hold of a snarling teenager. She doubted very much that Heather would have reacted to the situation that way. More likely the beloved psychologist would have encouraged the boys to sit down and talk out their problems.