Out of Bounds by Ellen Hartman Read Free Book Online

slightly to the side, straightening one of the perfectly aligned stacks of paper on his desk, and Wes was grateful to him. The woman watched intently. He wondered for a second if she was Trish Jones, but she was much too young.
    The mayor was still waiting.
    The woman crossed her arms.
    “You want to take the hat off?” he tried.
    “I don’t want to put you to any trouble. Just go ahead and sign it on the brim.”
    Because signing a hat while it’s on another man’s head isn’t awkward and uncomfortable at all.
    He made the mistake of looking at the woman again. She stared right back, waiting to see what he would do. She knew how idiotic this was.
    It was a stroke of freaking amazing luck that Jay had followed Wes’s college career and what he needed to do was to capitalize on that connection regardless of how it made him feel. For Deacon.
    Wes uncapped the Sharpie and pinched the brim of the hat between his fingers to hold it steady. He felt Jay’s breath on his hand as he rushed an illegible scrawl across the brim. When he was finished, he tapped Jay on the head with the pen. And if he wasn’t so careful about tapping lightly, well, maybe the mayor would remember to take his hat off the next time he asked someone for an autograph. “Done.”
    “I have to say, I’m thrilled you’re here!” Jay clapped his hands. “Your brother must be pleased you’re available.”
    When he realized what he’d said, Jay flushed right to his hairline, the color on his face matching his bright red neck. “Not that anyone would be pleased about your injury or your—”
    “It’s okay, Jay. I’m happy to be in Kirkland. Deacon and I are both looking forward to the possibilities.”
    The woman stepped into the office. Her legs were a mile long in tight blue jeans and Wes was distracted by an entirely different set of possibilities.
    Ryan noticed her and waved her forward. “Mayor Meacham, we have another visitor.”
    The mayor didn’t seem to hear him. “Did Ryan tell you about our lunchtime basketball league on Wednesdays? I told him to tell you.” Jay punched him lightly on the biceps. “We’ll help you keep in shape now that you’re a civilian.”
    Based on how tight the muscle in his jaw looked, Wes was pretty sure Ryan was suppressing the urge to punch the mayor.
    “I’d love to join,” he said. “Send me the details.”
    Wes Fallon, small-town rec-league guy. Fabi would have a field day if she knew.
    Ryan stepped around the mayor and said to the woman, “Can I help you?”
    “I’m Posy Jones. I have an appointment with Mr. Fallon.”
    Posy Jones. Her voice was rich and throaty in a way that made Wes think of late nights in dark bars. He tried not to notice how long her dark eyelashes were or the way her eyes seemed lit with humor.
    “Posy,” Jay said. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Did you come with your mother?”
    “My mother isn’t available today.” But she didn’t offer any additional details.
    Not available? Where exactly was Trish Jones and the Fallon Foundation’s sixty-eight thousand dollars?
    An awkward silence fell over the room. Everyone seemed to be waiting for someone else to ask that exact question.
    A weak person would have leaped to fill the silence, but Posy kept her mouth shut and her expression blank. As if she’d just informed them that the special of the day was apple pie but she really didn’t care one way or the other if they ordered it.
    If something was up with the money, he would find out, but he didn’t want the mayor, or worse yet, his eager and überprofessional assistant to hear.
    His brother had built the next phase of plans for his Fallon Foundation Centers around the Hand-to-Hand programs. Nothing mattered more to him than this venture. If there was something fishy with Trish’s unofficial fundraiser, it had the potential to ruin the goodwill of the town of Kirkland.
    He owed Deacon a debt he could never repay, but he would keep trying. Whatever was going on