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little?” If only she could.
    “Never, most likely.” With a snort, she kissed her dad on
the cheek. When Kylie arrived, they said their goodbyes and headed out.
    Settled in at home, Jocelyn and Kylie went for a three mile,
a ritual they both missed when Jocelyn traveled. If all else went to hell, they
kept to this routine and this more than anything provided ritual and stability
to both their lives. Jocelyn started Kylie running early as a way to channel
the excessive energy and short attention span that marked her ADHD child. It
kept her sane and in shape to cope with the multiple responsibilities she
juggled in her life. Their morning run had become a sacred time for the two of
them.
    When Jocelyn finally went to bed, sleep didn’t come. Unable
to shut down, her mind conjured images of a naked Jared Wyatt, the feel of his
mouth, the touch of his hand, the hardness of his chest . I wonder if I could
find him with an internet search. Her razor-sharp will slammed that thought
away. It had been one hell of a night, but that’s all it was. It would fade
with time.After giving herself some relief, she mouthed a silent prayer
that he was nowhere nearby before finally drifting to sleep.
    * * * * *
    The Chamber’s celebration was in full swing by the time
Jocelyn arrived at the modern structure of glass and steel that housed the
Madison Chamber of Commerce and the Madison Historical Museum. Once inside, she
did a sweep of the room, making sure to locate her father, Don Corcoran, the
Chairman of the Chamber Board, his wife Brenda, her oldest friend Myron
Atwater, Madison’s mayor, and Len Reynolds, the superintendent of the school
system—Madison’s political leadership along with her. The high school athletic
director would also join this elite power circle if the Madison Lions kept
winning.
    She spotted Don and Brenda filling their plates at the
silver-clothed buffet table. Delicate lavender-tipped orchids serving as table
settings starkly contrasted the heavy platters of meat, cheeses and cakes. Don
Corcoran, at six foot three, towered over his petite wife. Grabbing a glass of
wine from the bar, she headed to greet them.
    “Well if it isn’t the lady of the hour, making a late
entrance,” Don said, looking striking in a blue-striped business suit, tailored
to camouflage his thickening waistline. Stocky but well-muscled, he still
turned ladies’ heads.
    “Now that you’re here, I imagine the speeches will get
started soon,” Brenda said, rolling her eyes at Jocelyn, who smiled back. They
both hated the posturing but understood the speeches afforded the local
leadership the opportunity to speak to their constituency, all of whom were at
this reception. Thanking Jocelyn and her team was just a convenient forum to
accomplish that. But that was the local power game and Jocelyn succeeded as
Chamber president by playing it well.
    “The Chamber Board wants the new athletic director to speak
at the fall Chamber dinner.” Don never minced words.
    “Of course. The man starts on Monday. I’ll let him settle in
and then personally deliver the invitation myself. Okay?”
    “You don’t need to wait. I invited him here tonight to meet
some folks. Let me introduce you.” Hand on the small of her back, Don guided
Jocelyn to a crowd gathered around the mystery man who had the town in a
twitter. Clearing his throat, Don broke through the buzz and the pack opened up
to let them through.
    She stared straight into Jared’s baby blues. Oh. My. God. He looked as luscious as she remembered in formfitting khakis, a pressed white
shirt, and those sexy leather roper boots. Shit.
    “Jared Wyatt, this is Jocelyn Wade, the president of the
Madison Chamber of Commerce and the lady who just saved our town.”
    “You’re the new athletic director,” she mumbled, a lump
forming in her throat. Knees shaking, she grabbed a nearby chair for support
and watched him wrestle for some degree of control. He found it first.
    “I’m glad to see