Page 21 of Striking Heat

“It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

“That’s helpful,” I reply and turn to look out the passenger-side window.

Mackenzie doesn’t drive an impressive vehicle, not that I would expect her to. It’s a small black Volkswagen SUV. Looks to be in relatively good shape. The amount of hair ties that are around the gearshift is comical. But it’s neat and looks like it’s well taken care of.

“Did you drive this to Tampa or buy it here?” I ask her.

“Drove it,” she says.

We’ve been in the car for a while, but we haven’t driven very far. The stadium sits in a high-traffic area, but she’s driving towardDavis Beach. I want to roll my window down to smell the salty air, but I don’t. For someone who lives in Tampa, I don’t make it to the beach very often.

Davis Beach is a good option, though, from what I’ve been told. It has nice white-sand beaches, with beautiful clear water. There’s no boardwalk, though, so we’re probably not eating on the beach.

She turns down a stretch of area with a variety of restaurants, then parks in front of a small Mexican restaurant.

“Wanna grab some tacos?” she asks with a wink.

“Do I really have a choice?” I ask her, winking right back.

“This place is good,” she defends.

We make our way into the restaurant. “Hola,” she calls to the woman behind the counter.

“Oh, Mac,” a woman replies with a heavy accent. She barely looks up from the paperwork she’s sorting, which makes me think she might be a manager or the owner of this place. “Go to your table. Who is your friend?”

“He’s no one.” She leads the way to a table in the back that has a window.

“Come here often?”

She giggles. “Cheesy pick-up line.”

“I’m not trying to pick you up. I’m just trying to figure out how you know the owner or management of this place.” I look around at the brightly painted walls. There are pictures hung up, and soft music plays in the background.

“I found this place when I went for a run along the beach. I was driving around one day, hungry, and I happened to come in here. Stella, the owner”—she motions to the woman who greeted her— “talked to me a while the first time I came in. She said I looked like I might need a friend.”

“And you needed one that day, huh?”

She nods. “I was new in town, and this was before we reallystarted bringing the team together to practice and bond.” She puts air quotes around the bond part.

“This seems like it might be a far place to drive for a run. Your place is by the stadium, right?”

“Yeah,” she says slowly, like she’s trying to figure out how I know where her apartment is.

“August told me,” I fill her in, and she just shakes her head.

“He’s such an ass.”

“He’s not so bad.” I did have a good time drinking beer with him and Nick after the girls left. I felt a kinship with him. It can’t be easy living in his dad’s shadow. I know a thing or two about that.

“If you say so,” she replies.

Stella comes over to the table. “What would you like to drink?” Her brown eyes are warm. She smiles lovingly at Mackenzie.

We both order water, and she leaves us to review the menus in front of us.

“The fish tacos are killer,” Mackenzie tells me. “I’d also like to get some guac and chips, if you’re in.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” I reply. I leave my menu on the table, watching her peruse the one in front of her, but I have a feeling she already knows what she wants.