Hometown Hero's Redemption. Jill Kemerer

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Hometown Hero's Redemption - Jill  Kemerer


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silence won. “Never mind. You don’t have to answer. We all have things we’d prefer no one knew about.”

      “My dad,” Wyatt whispered. “But he’s in jail.”

      “My dad was in jail most of my life,” Lauren said. “He died a few years ago.”

      Drew straightened. Why was she lying? Her dad had never been in jail. Bill Pierce was one of the most upstanding men the community had ever seen, and he was definitely still alive.

      “Really?” Wyatt sounded skeptical and hopeful at the same time. “What did he do?”

      “He murdered two men.” She rubbed her arm, not looking him in the eye.

      “Oh.” He dropped his attention to the uneaten sundae melting into a puddle of brown and white. “But you’re so pretty.”

      She laughed. “Thank you. I’m not sure that what I look like has anything to do with it, though.”

      “Sorry.” Wyatt blushed. “I just meant... I guess I don’t know what I meant.”

      “I think I do.” She scrunched her nose. “People who look like they have it all together have problems, too. Big problems. Like yours.”

      He seemed to chew on the thought. Drew dug his nails into his jeans. Maybe he’d been all wrong about Lauren. Was she fabricating a sob story to make Wyatt trust her?

      “Would you do me a favor, Wyatt?” Lauren asked. “Go inside and buy me a chocolate ice cream. In a cup, please.” She handed him a five-dollar bill. “If you don’t mind?”

      He took the money. “You want sprinkles?”

      “No, thanks.”

      Drew waited until Wyatt was safely indoors before he turned back to Lauren. “Why did you lie to him?”

      “I didn’t.” Those clear gray eyes held nothing but truth.

      “But Bill—”

      “Bill isn’t my real dad. I was adopted.”

      “What do you mean, you were adopted?”

      She shrugged. “Adopted. As in my parents adopted me.”

      Of course she hadn’t lied. Relief spread through his chest, releasing the tension building inside. “Look, I need a babysitter. An adult to stay with him when I’m working at the fire station. Mom moved to Arizona last year or I’d ask her. I’ll be on twenty-four hours and off forty-eight, so it’s not every day. And I think we both know that not anyone will do in this situation.”

      She was already shaking her head. “I don’t think so.”

      “Why not?”

      “I’m not the right person.” She pushed her hands against the table as if preparing to leave.

      “You’re exactly the right person.” Her brittle expression reminded him to be gentle. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t blame you if you hold a grudge, but I’m not the same guy I was. I’ve changed. And you don’t owe me anything except maybe a slap in the head or a kick in the rear, but I’m not asking this for me.”

      He let her see the sincerity in his eyes. Didn’t move. And he prayed. Lord, please don’t hold my foolishness and arrogance against me. Wyatt needs her. I feel it deep down in my gut.

      She shook her head, and he clenched his jaw, trying to come up with something that would convince her. She’d been the most honest, upright person he’d ever met. Someone who would be a good influence on Wyatt.

      He didn’t deserve someone like that. But Wyatt did.

      “I can’t be there for him every hour,” Drew said. “I need to rely on someone I can trust. Someone with experience dealing with the kind of trauma he’s lived through. I wish my mom could help out, but she’s on the other side of the country. She told me you’re the one for Wyatt, and, frankly, Mom’s always right.”

      “I’ll give you the number of a nice college student I know. He’d probably stay with Wyatt.”

      “Or you could keep the guy’s number and make this easy on everyone.”

      She tilted her chin up. “I don’t think you understand. My life is on hold.”

      “What?” He tried to figure out what she was talking about but came up blank.

      “I’m not the person for the job.”

      * * *

      Lauren watched as Drew processed her words. He was even better-looking now than he’d been in high school, if such a thing was possible. And a firefighter? Forget putting out the fires. More like igniting them. He could be the cover model for any fireman calendar.

      Stupid hormones. Must be playing tricks on her. She’d never been attracted to him before. Not much, anyway.

      Maybe a tad.

      A person’s soul should match their appearance, and he didn’t have the integrity to round out the package.

      She probably wasn’t being fair. The man in front of her seemed the polar opposite of the boy she’d gone to high school with. Back then he’d been a cocky jerk. It hadn’t been enough he’d been the most popular guy at Lake Endwell High—oh, no—he’d been the most popular guy in the whole town. Everyone had loved him. As the big-time quarterback, he’d taken the football team to two state championships. College coaches had scouted him for months. Parents had adored him. The town had revered him.

      And she’d loathed him.

      He and his friends had made it their mission to mock her. She had never been Lauren Pierce to them. She was “the prude,” “Miss Perfect,” “do-gooder” and, her personal favorite, “Prim Pierce.” They’d invited her to parties where there was beer, knowing full well she didn’t drink. Their girlfriends—always the most inappropriately dressed girls in school—looked down on her. The guys teased her for her modest clothes and made lewd comments about her bare legs when she wore her cheerleading uniform.

      They’d made her feel like a leper the first two years of high school. By the time junior year had rolled around, her confidence had kicked in. She’d prayed for them, and their taunts might as well have bounced off a shield, because they’d no longer bothered her. In fact, she’d felt sorry for Drew and his crew.

      “Are you getting married or something?”

      She barked out a laugh. “No, nothing like that.”

      “Then I think you are the person.” He tapped the table twice with his knuckles.

      “You don’t know anything about me.” Oops. She’d let bitterness creep into her tone. Oh, well. Bitterness had crept into every cell of her body since last December. She’d failed Treyvon and Jay. Would she ever fall asleep at night without seeing their trusting faces?

      “You’re right.” He ran his hand through his short, almost black hair. “But I know you have integrity and devoted your life to helping others. Back in school, I had an ego as long as the Mississippi and as deep as the Grand Canyon. I never thought about anyone but myself. I apologize for that. And I apologize for—”

      “Look, we don’t have time for unnecessary apologies. Wyatt will be back soon. I want to help you out, but I can’t. I was a social worker, but I don’t work with troubled kids anymore.”

      “What will it take for you to say yes?”

      “Nothing.” She lifted her hands, palms up. “I give you credit for using your best weapon—Wyatt—to try to seal the deal, but no.”

      His nostrils flared. “Do you have another job?”

      “Yes.”

      “Permanent?”

      Ugh. He knew. Always knew people’s weak spots.

      “I’m


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