“Shit, man,” Leith said from where he sat on the edge of the incline press, shaking his head in a half laugh. “You’re in sick shape. Want to come over here and spot me on this twenty-pounder?”

Duncan ran a towel around the back of his thick neck. “Only ’cause I kept it up. Why’d you stop training?”

Leith consistently worked out, but he wasn’t following the insane lifting regimen he used to and that Duncan still subscribed to. Duncan was shorter than him, but thicker and more compact. Back in the day, Leith spanked him on the field, consistently out-threw him. Looking at Duncan today, Leith was pretty sure Duncan would wipe the grass with him. All right, he’d admit it. It bothered him. It bothered him a lot. He’d thought that competitive edge had died when he’d stopped throwing—had tried to convince himself it no longer existed, at least—but it was still there, burning just under the surface. A low pulse of a whisper that said, You can take him.

Leith just shrugged. “You pro yet?”

“Nah. Still amateur class A. Some great competition out there. Pushes me, you know?”

Leith rose, loving how his thighs felt tight, his arms a little shaky. Using the weights he kept in Mildred’s garage didn’t match an honest workout with someone stronger.

“Hey, thanks for the call this morning.” Duncan held out his hand and Leith slapped it, turning it into a hearty handshake. “Good to hear from you. Been a while.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Duncan held up his taped fingers. “’S’okay, man, I understand. Sorry to hear about your dad. I know that sounds shitty a few years after the fact.”

Leith waved off his friend, as he’d gotten so good at doing.

Duncan began to pick off the tape, unwinding the battered pieces in long white ribbons. “You really not going to throw this year? I bet you’d do well. Still have the strength for the most part. The form comes back to you. Muscle memory. All you need is a little refresher.” He shot Leith a good-natured grin. “And it’s just Gleann. It’s not like it’s the New Hampshire games.”

Leith understood, but the little jab niggled at him. It was just Gleann. He knew if Jen had heard Duncan say that, it would have lit a firecracker under her ass.

“I hear you’re going to be AD for Gleann?” Leith whipped off his wet T-shirt and traded it for a dry one, then pulled on light warm-up pants over his shorts.

Tape gone and stuffed in the garbage, Duncan started to take apart the weight bar, sliding off the clamps and lifting the circular weights onto their stands. The guy had a pretty sweet setup here in his basement in Westbury, across the lake from Gleann. Complete with rubbery, sweaty guy smell and everything. Leith had always wanted his own gym. When he found his house, his perfect house, there’d be a room just like this.

“Yeah,” Duncan answered his earlier question. “Should be a piece of cake. A bit surprised they called me, though. You gave them my name?”

Leith nodded as he picked up Duncan’s bar and tilted it against the wall. “Hope you didn’t mind. Jen seemed pretty desperate for the help.”

“So you know her?”

Leith ignored Duncan’s side-eyed look.

“We go way back. She used to spend every summer in Gleann from when she was about, oh, eight or so. Been friends forever.”

“Aha. She was, um, intense.”

Leith had to laugh. “You could say that. You didn’t try to say no to her, did you?”

“‘Try’ is the operative word there. I did try to pass it off on you, but she said you’d already turned it down.”

Leith stuffed his weight-lifting gloves in his gym bag and slung it over his shoulder. His stomach rumbled. After a good workout, he wanted to eat a house. And drink a whole six-pack of beer.

“Fuck, I was supposed to call her back earlier today,” Duncan said.

At first Leith doubted Jen would have noticed, being buried under the fire nonsense, but this was Jen they were talking about. If she needed to get a hold of Duncan, she’d probably call at ten p.m. if need be.

“Want to go back across the lake and meet her?” Leith asked. “Maybe I can drag her away from that computer and phone of hers for an hour and we can all go grab a burger and a beer.”

Duncan glanced at the clock on the wall, which showed 6:23.

“She needs more allies,” Leith added.

A small smile quirked Duncan’s mouth.

“What?” Leith said.

Duncan’s eyebrows arched into his forehead. “Nothing, nothing.”

He let Duncan shower and they climbed into Leith’s truck, pulling out of the historical neighborhood lining the lakefront and rolling through the downtown. While not bustling by any means, it didn’t look like it had lain down on its deathbed like Gleann.

“No way,” Leith said, jerking the wheel to the right and swerving into an empty parking spot in front of an all-season Christmas shop.

“What the—” Duncan began, as Leith threw the truck into park.

There, coming out of the Christmas shop, was Jen, wearing some sort of short, yellow, swishy dress and high heels, and holding a box of papers.

Duncan chuckled, following Leith’s stare out the windshield. “Damn. I might have caused a five-car pileup for that, too.”

“That’s Jen,” Leith said, his gym shoes already hitting the pavement. Duncan followed him onto the sidewalk.

Leith called to her, and she turned, all movielike, with the wind pushing her hair over her shoulders, her dress clinging to her legs. The moment of surprise as she realized who he was was priceless. They walked toward each other.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Might ask you the same thing.”

He pointed to Duncan, who raised a hand. “This is Duncan. Your AD. I was just bringing him across the lake to meet you.”

Immediately she assumed her “business stance,” that thing she did—probably unconsciously—when her body went into this straight line and her neck stretched, lifting her head higher. She smiled, however, and it was still genuine. That’s how she got you, Leith thought. She may be all business, but she wasn’t fake. Her presence pulled you in. You couldn’t help but be affected by how much she cared. You couldn’t help but be ensnared by her intelligence.

She thrust a hand at Duncan, and even though Leith had never shaken her hand in a business manner, he could tell she had a good, strong grip.

“I did the recruiting you asked for,” Duncan told her. “Made a ton of phone calls and got a bunch of guys from all over New England to come to Gleann at the last minute. Not any pros, but they’ll throw, and I’ll make damn sure they have a killer time. I may owe some sexual favors after this.”

She sighed in thanks. “So great to hear. The roster was so thin before.”

Leith gestured to the box she carried. “What’s all that?”

She grinned. “A little recruiting of my own. Ads for Westbury-to-Gleann bus service across the lake during the games, so no one has to drive drunk or worry about parking.”

“Huh,” Leith said, staring at her. And staring. He couldn’t look away. Had to be her brain. Yeah, that was it.

“So were you just hanging out here?” she asked him.

“Came over to see Duncan. Haven’t touched base in a while.”

“He’s just using me for my gym,” Duncan said.

Jen took in Leith’s grubby T-shirt and workout pants. “Thought you said you weren’t training.”

“I’m not. It was just a workout.”

“But he should be,” Duncan added.

“That’s what I say!” Jen said.

“Well. Um.” Duncan coughed. “It was great to meet you, Jen. I’ll be in touch with an equipment report, and you call me if you need anything.”

Leith turned to him. “Thought we were going to grab a beer.”

“Yeah, you know. I’ll let you two go. Just remembered some shit I have to take care of. Don’t worry about a ride; I’ll walk back.”

Then the big guy with the shaved head was gone, jogging back down the street toward his house as though he hadn’t just kicked his own ass in the gym.