Crazy on You Read Online Free

Tucker shrugged. “I wouldn’t risk it. I’d wait until around three or four when it warms up.”
    The kid tried a jump shot that slid around the rim. “Can’t. It’s the weekend. I gotta practice as much as I can.”
    Crap. Tucker bent down and grabbed the ball as it rolled by his foot. He supposed he could threaten to give the kid some sort of citation or scare him with the threat of arrest. But Tucker didn’t believe in empty threats or abusing his power over the powerless. He knew what that felt like. And telling the kid he was going to freeze his nuts off, didn’t count. That could really happen here in the Texas panhandle. Especially when the wind started blowing. “What’s your name?”
    “Phillip Darlington, but everyone calls me Pippen.”
    Tucker stuck out his free hand. “Tucker Matthews. How old are you Pippen?”
    “Ten.”
    Tucker was no expert, but the kid seemed tall for his age.
    “My grandma says you named your cat Pinky. That’s a weird name.”
    This from a kid named Pippen? Tucker bounced the ball a few times. “Whose your grandma?”
    “Louella Brooks. She lives on the other side of me and my mom.” He pointed behind him with his thumb.
    Ah. The older lady who talked nonstop and had given him a pecan pie. “We have a problem.”
    “We do?” He sniffed and wiped the back of his hand across his red nose.
    “Yeah. I’ve got to sleep and you bouncing this ball is keeping me awake.”
    “Put a pillow over your head.” He tilted his chin to one side. “Or you could turn on the TV. My mom has to sleep with the TV on sometimes.”
    Neither was an option. “I’ve got a better idea. We play a game of H-O-R-S-E . If I win, you wait until three to play. If you win, I’ll put a pillow over my head.”
    Phillip shook his head. “You’re a grown-up. That’s not fair.”
    Damn. “I’ll spot you the first three letters.”
    The kid looked at his fingers and counted. “I only have to make two baskets?”
    “Yep.” Tucker wasn’t worried. He’d been watching the kid for a couple of days and he sucked. He tossed the kid the ball. “I’ll even let you go first.”
    “Okay.” Pippen caught the ball and moved to an invisible free-throw line. His breath hung in front of his face, his eyes narrowed, and he bounced the ball in front of him. He got into an awkward free-throw stance, shot, and totally wafted it. The ball missed the backboard and Tucker tried not to smile as he ran into his own driveway to retrieve it. He dribbled back and did a left-handed layup. “That’s an H,” he said and tossed the ball to Pippen. The boy tried his luck at a layup and missed.
    Tucker hit a jump shot at the center key. “O.”
    “Wow.” Pippen shook his head. “You’re good.”
    He’d played a lot of b-ball on his downtime in the military, and it didn’t hurt that the kid’s hoop was lowered to about eight feet and there was no one playing defense.
    The kid moved to the spot where Tucker had stood. Once again his eyes narrowed and he bounced the ball in front of him. He lined up the shot and Tucker sighed.
    “Keep your elbows pointed straight,” he heard himself coach. God, he couldn’t believe he was giving the kid pointers. He wasn’t even sure he liked kids. He’d never really been around any since he’d been one himself, and most of those had been like him. Throwaways.
    Pippen held the ball right in front of his face and pointed his elbows at the net.
    “No.” Tucker moved behind the kid, lowered the ball a few inches, and moved his cold hands to the correct position. “Keep the ball lined up, bend your knees, and shoot.”
    “Pippen!”
    Both Tucker and the boy spun around at the same time. Lily Darlington stood behind them, wrapped up in a red wool coat and wearing white bunny slippers. Crisp morning light caught in her blond hair curled up in big Texas-size rollers. The chilled air caught in his lungs and turned her cheeks pink. She was pretty, even if her ice blue gaze cut