Bride Candidate #9

“But she’s right. Kids today have enough on their minds. They shouldn’t have to put up with peer pressure over whether or not they’re wearin’ the right shoes.”

“Lucas, we went through it, too.”

“But I’ve contributed to it. Profited from it.” He drummed his fingers harder.

“So, what do you propose to do? Erase your football career? Reduce your prices? Shut down your business?”

“Think about it,” he said. Not that he hadn’t considered the issue before, especially when the marketing department presented a new advertising campaign geared at kids. “You know, this could be a whole new market.”

“What could?”

“Seniors. They’ve got different needs, don’t they?”

“Different challenges,” Ariel said.

“Yeah. Arthritis, joint replacement, foot problems. Believe me, I can sympathize, even at my age. What if we design a line for seniors? Velcro straps. Better shock absorbency. Designs made to fit an older foot better.”

“Affordable.”

“Affordable even for Emma.” Luke grinned. “Your whole group could star in the ads.”

Ariel could picture it. “Emma’s grandsons would think she was so cool.”

“She’d be a great spokesperson, wouldn’t she? We have to do this right away, before any more time passes. I’m gonna start on it first thing when I get back to the office.”

Ariel smiled to herself. All it took was personal involvement, getting people to really look at others, to see them as individuals. That’s the way change came about. Luke had just taken a big leap of awareness. He’d find the rewards waiting, just as she had.

Satisfied, she closed her eyes and rested the final few blocks to the youth center.

Four

Chase Ryan, administrator of the Wilson Buckley Youth Center, was the meanest-looking person Ariel knew. In the three years she’d known him, she hadn’t once seen him smile. His granite face hewn in a perpetual scowl, he could turn the toughest, most foul-mouthed teenager into a model of good manners with just a look. Every kid who came to the Center learned fast that the soft-spoken man meant business. Oh, he gave second chances—once—but he had no tolerance for people, young or old, who didn’t learn from their mistakes.

Ariel and Chase coexisted peacefully because each respected the way the other worked—Ariel with warmth and friendliness, Chase with uncompromising expectations. She wondered how Luke and Chase would get along.

When Ariel and Luke stepped into the Center, they almost crashed into Chase, who had a giggling child tucked like a football under each arm.

“Ariel,” he said without expression.

“It’s the mermaid,” the three-year-old boy under his arm shouted. “Hi, Mermaid.”

“Jacob. What’s happening?” She high-fived both kids, then looked at the man holding them again. “Chase, this is Luke Walker. Chase Ryan”

Chase nodded. His gaze bore into Luke’s. “Thanks for stepping in. It made a big difference.” He hitched the kids a little higher and walked toward the classroom the preschoolers used.

“Rules with an iron fist, I’ll bet,” Luke commented to Ariel.

“You’d be surprised He’s complicated, but he grows on you. Let’s head into the gym and see how they’re doing setting up the equipment for Saturday”

“Why’d the boy call you Mermaid?” Luke asked as they walked.

“Because of my name.” At his blank expression, she added, “The Little Mermaid?” Still no response. “The Disney movie?”

“Guess I’ve been out of touch,” he said.

“Don’t you ever get teased, Luke Skywalker?”

“Not more than once. My parents certainly didn’t choose my name knowing it’d be some famous character. I’m guessin’ yours didn’t pick your name because of a fictional mermaid.”

“My parents didn’t choose the name at all. Oh, there’s Sam and Marguerite They beat us here”

Luke stopped her from moving all the way into the cavernous gymnasium. “Hold on, there. What do you mean your parents didn’t choose your name?”

“It doesn’t matter”

It mattered Something flashed in her eyes before she turned and walked away, although her tone of voice hadn’t conveyed it. Something she could control by pretending it wasn’t of consequence.

He watched her hug Sam and Marguerite, a gesture as natural as breathing, he realized. Which meant that when she’d hugged him last night, he’d placed too much importance on the act. Every time he thought he had her figured out, his assumptions got turned upside down.

The hours slipped by. Luke read reports, consulted with Sam and Chase, asked questions and offered advice, although he was constantly distracted by Ariel as she helped erect the Couch Potatoes equipment. He couldn’t keep his gaze off her for longer than a few minutes at a time. She was light on her feet, musical in her laugh, spirited in her enthusiasm.

At some point she pulled her hair into a ponytail, revealing her makeup-free face, her delicate features. She was pretty, in a wholesome, natural kind of way, he decided. And she was complicated enough to be interesting. Kids loved her. Seniors loved her.

Yep. This time he’d chosen the right woman for the right reasons. Twenty-seven was a good age for marriage. She’d be ready to settle down.

“Afraid to get your hands dirty?” Ariel asked, coming up to him as he leaned on a table and stared at the floor plan for the athletic event. Chase stood beside him, his arms crossed.

Luke smiled lazily “Well, now, Ariel, we each have our callin’. Yours would seem to be in manual labor.”

“And yours would be in...?”

“Supervisin’.”

“You do it well.”

He grinned. “Thanks, darlin’.”

“I thought you’d like to know the Titan gear has arrived. Marguerite is checking the shipment against the order sheet. And I’ve got to head out to deliver some meals. I’ll swing back and pick you up around seven or so, we can grab a quick bite to eat, then I’ve got to check in at the community center about the dinner-dance.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“I suppose it’d be useless to argue with you,” she said after a moment.

“Luke Walker, as I live and breathe!”

An elegant, thirtyish woman strode across the gym, high heels in hand.

Luke swallowed. Hell. Judith Abrams, one of the two lawyers on his wife list. What was she doing here?