Before I knew it, my kitchen had been taken over once again. Now I was standing next to a table decorated with bunnies and eggs decorated in bright colors, peddling our wares. Candy had run off, saying she wanted to find someone that, “I had to meet.” I was hoping she’d moved past the mysterious Coach C to someone closer to her own age.
“Enjoy, Steve,” I said, thanking Coach Rose’s husband for his purchase of two dozen honey carrot cookies. He stepped away, revealing my daughter, who had her hand latched onto the arm of my Valentine’s Day egg disaster: Trent.
“Lacey,” he murmured, his eyes meeting mine and igniting a tugging feeling inside of my stomach that crept lower the longer he looked at me.
“Hey, Trent,” I choked a bit on his name. “Gonna support the school again?” His spreading grin changed the tug to a full on twist and pull, and I lost my breath.
“Least I can do, seeing how they employ me and all,” he answered with a cheeky tone.
“Coach C?” I hazarded a guess, my nose scrunching up.
“Yes, ma’am. Nice to meet ya,” he extended his hand. “Your daughter is a delight to have in class,” he teased with a roll of his eyes. I laughed.
“I bet. I’m guessing you’re aware of a certain crush?” I asked, leaning in so that gossipy ears could not overhear me, though our positioning itself was bound to start gossip.
He turned in toward me, his breath a warm whisper on my cheek as he replied, “Yes, I am, and I’m handling it by openly flirting with her mother.”