Snowbound With The Single Dad. Cara Colter
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a curly-haired, little girl in front of something that looked like a souped-up tank. She snatched it out of his hands and set it back in its place. “Is there something you need? Maybe you’re looking to unload thirty seconds from your segment? Or are you just here to bother me?”
“I was the special guest at the Abilene Rotary Club’s luncheon today. They think you have magic powers. Said you’ve never been wrong about when it’s going to rain.” He left out the part where they wondered if she was a witch.
“No magic powers,” she said, trying to look disinterested.
“That’s what I said. I told them it was nothing but luck, and odds were you’d get it wrong one of these days.”
Summer stopped what she was doing and turned her whole body in his direction. “Did you, now?”
Finally, he had her full attention. He smiled. Most ladies loved the dimples, but they only seemed to fuel Summer’s fire. “I mean, if it’s not magic, what else could it be?”
“You were a football player before this, correct?”
He liked how she had to ask, as if she wasn’t completely sure. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Does that not require any intuition at all? Or do you just learn how to play and that’s it? Anybody with any athletic ability can do it?”
Again, she made him laugh. “Anyone can play. But to be good, you need to read more than a playbook.”
“Exactly,” she said with a smile and a wave of her hand. “I read more than the radar. I can’t explain how it works, I just feel it. I’m sure there are things you can’t teach someone about football. They just know it or they don’t.”
“Well, that’s probably true. My mom swears I was born wearing a helmet. I probably know more about football than I want to.” That was the truth. He had slept, eaten, drunk and breathed football his entire life. “Anytime you want to learn something about the game, I’d be happy to teach you.”
She froze, her pretty pink lips parted. He’d hit the nerve he was looking for. Football held about as much of her interest as watching paint dry held his. She turned forward and shook her head. “I don’t want to learn about football.”
“Maybe you could teach me about predicting the rain, then?” Travis knew all about defensive strategy. She could block his pass all afternoon, but he wasn’t going to stop trying for that touchdown.
She shook her head again. “You don’t want to hear about weather forecasting.”
“I do. I swear.”
“Go away, Mr. Lockwood.”
“You’re leaving me no choice,” he warned. “I’m gonna have to tell everyone at the Rotary Club it’s magic.”
Summer dropped her face into her hands and groaned in frustration. She was too much fun. It took so little to get her riled up. Sitting back up, she swiveled her chair in his direction and narrowed her eyes. “What do you want to know? That it dates back to 650 B.C.? Or how the Babylonians tried to make guesses based on things like cloud formations and other atmospheric phenomena?” He saw something in her eyes flicker. She truly lived for this stuff. “I mean, can you imagine? How accurate could they have been back then? If they did ever get it right, I think those people were simply more in tune with nature. Genetically, as a species, we—”
She stopped and snapped her mouth shut. Travis was entranced; he wanted her to continue. To have someone actually talk to him about something other than what he did when he was in a uniform was refreshing. “What? We what?”
Summer looked up at him, searching. She stood abruptly. “I’m not going to talk about weather only to have you laugh about it later with everyone else in the newsroom,” she snapped. Before he could respond, she took off for the one place he couldn’t follow—the dreaded ladies’ room.
“Don’t mind her.” Travis spun around to find Rachel twirling a strand of hair. “She’s a little socially inept. I think she’s one of those savants. The kind of person who knows a whole bunch about one thing in particular but lacks social graces.”
If she thought speaking of a coworker that way was somehow becoming, she was wrong. Summer’s fear that he’d mock her made complete sense now. One thing he’d learned about women over the years was that the ones who tore down the others deserved his respect the least. Brooke had been a woman-basher, always pointing out the faults in the women she called friends. Travis had no time for that in his life anymore.
“Have you seen Ken? I need to check in with him.”
Rachel’s forehead creased. She was clearly shocked by his disregard for her comments about the weather girl. “He’s probably in his office,” she said, regaining her composure.
Travis nodded and took off. He figured there was only one way to earn Summer’s trust and therefore her help. He had to convince Ken that Summer needed her thirty seconds back.
CHAPTER THREE
THE MORNING SUN was no more forgiving than the one that beat down any other time of day in September. Summer fanned herself with the church bulletin.
“Excellent sermon today, pastor,” her grandfather said, shaking Pastor John’s hand.
“Thank you, David. I meant to ask Summer if we should be praying for more rain or not. You got us a little bit earlier in the week, but it wasn’t enough.”
Summer loved that people thought she had some sort of control over the rain because she forecasted it. Predicting and causing were unfortunately two very different things, but meteorologists got blamed for weather conditions regardless. “Never hurts to pray,” she replied.
“Isn’t that the truth?” The pastor smiled kindly. “We’ll see you next Sunday, Miss Raines.”
Summer followed her grandparents back to the house. They always walked to church unless the weather prevented it. Some people were born for this heat. David and Sarah Raines were two of those people.
“So, tell me about this new sportscaster y’all got over there at Channel 6 now.” Summer’s grandmother hooked arms with her and patted her hand. “I thought he was kind of cute.”
Summer’s eyes rolled behind her sunglasses. Travis was annoyingly cute and ridiculously humble. He was also the reason Summer had to talk faster during her report. Her blood boiled. She fanned herself a little faster.
“He’s barely capable of doing what he’s being paid to do, Mimi. I’m sure we stole a few viewers away from Channel 4 last week, but I’m not so sure they’re going to come back for more.”
“I think if he were on Channel 4, I’d switch over after you were done so I could see him.” Mimi winked and tugged on her arm. The woman always had a devilish look in her eyes—eyes that were the same blue as Summer’s. People always told her she looked like her grandmother. Mimi’s blond hair was a tad lighter but had the same gentle curl, although no one would ever know it because she always wore it in a long braid that fell down her back.
“You hear that, Big D?” Summer leaned forward to get her gentle giant of a grandfather’s attention. He walked without a care on Mimi’s other side. “You okay with her ogling the new sports guy every night?”
He shook his head at their nonsense. “She can look all she wants. She knows she’s stuck with this old man until the good Lord takes me away. Then she can get herself an upgrade.”
Mimi’s sigh was loud and exaggerated. “Knowing how stubborn your granddad is, he’ll probably outlive me and be the lucky one who gets to trade up.”
Summer laughed. “That’s probably best. They don’t make men like they used to. I don’t think you could upgrade if you were given the chance.”
Big D reached behind his wife and placed his hand on his