Название | The Long Shot |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Ellen Hartman |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472027870 |
“Okay, kids,” she said. “I want to officially introduce you to your new coach…coaches, Deacon Fallon and Wes Fallon. Deacon played in the NBA, but before that he was a student right here at Milton.” She pointed to the rafters. “That’s his retired jersey up there.”
Tali tossed her hair back over her shoulder, jutting out one hip to the side in a pose she probably thought was sexy, and raised her hand to ask a question. Deacon would have to figure out how to deal with this, Julia thought. They’d all have crushes on him before the season started.
“Yes?” Julia said.
“Is Coach Wes in high school?”
Cora’s eyes fluttered wildly and then she asked, “Is Coach Wes going to go to Milton?”
“I can show him around,” Iris volunteered. Even though her face betrayed no hint of exertion, she lifted her shirt to fan herself with the hem, purposely exposing a few inches of tanned and toned teenage stomach.
Julia was floored. The girls were preening for Wes, not Deacon. She’d registered that Wes was attractive, but he was a teenager. It made sense, of course, that they’d have a crush on him, not his brother. They were kids; Wes was a kid. Wes’s looks were born of his smiling, good-natured charm, whereas Deacon had a rougher, more worn handsomeness enhanced by the laugh lines around his eyes.
The girls’ reaction to Wes made her feel better about her obsession with Deacon’s arms.
And shoulders.
And glasses. Good Lord.
That she couldn’t shut out her awareness of Deacon was natural. They were both adults, and he happened to be tall and hot and standing really close to her. Her response was pure instinct. She was sure that once she got used to him, she would stop noticing every time he shifted his stance, even if his thighs in tight dark blue jeans were mesmerizing.
Wes spoke up. “I’m out of high school. I’m on a break from college to help my brother out here.”
Julia caught Deacon’s glance at his brother. That answered her question about Wes and high school, but now she had to find out what was with this break from college. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d fudged the truth on the phone the other day.
The kids posed a few more questions, and then she dismissed the team for the afternoon. Tali’s hips had a distinctly forced sway as she sashayed toward the locker room. Julia made a mental note to speak to the team about appropriate interaction with their coaches.
Tali’s brothers crowded up to Deacon after the girls had disappeared.
“You really played in the NBA?” Trey asked.
Deacon nodded. “You two on my team?”
Shawn giggled, but Trey scowled. “We’re not girls.”
Wes snapped his fingers. “I told you they were dudes, Deacon.”
“Darn. I wanted them on my team.”
Shawn giggled again.
Wes crouched so that he was closer to their eye level. “So what’s up? Why are you hanging around the high school chicks?”
Trey rolled his eyes. “Our sister is on the team. Her name’s Tali. Mom says we can’t go home by ourselves after school, even though I’m in fourth grade.”
“Tali says we’re pests, but she has to come here after school, so we do, too.”
“That’s good,” Deacon said. “Maybe you can give me the inside scoop on this team. You know, tell me who’s really good at what.”
“Man,” Trey said, “Tali’s team is so bad nobody’s any good. You sure you want to mess around with them?”
“I’m sure,” Deacon said.
“You’re making a bad decision,” Trey said.
“Yeah, like really stupid,” Shawn agreed.
* * *
DEACON HOPED TALI’S brothers were wrong, but he wasn’t certain.
Julia smiled at him. “I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to coach,” she said. “The girls were over the moon.”
He glanced around, but Wes had moved off to play keep-away with the little boys, dribbling between his legs and behind their backs, while they squealed and darted after the ball.
“Look, Julia. I’m here and I’m staying to coach, but I don’t appreciate being tricked, and I really don’t appreciate being a pawn in whatever war you’ve got going with your buddy Principal Ty.” He’d had enough of being played with by the boosters as a kid.
Her cheeks were pink, whether from the warmth of the gym or emotion he couldn’t say.
“Ty is not my buddy. In fact, he got under my skin, and I may have made some…promises… Right before I called you, I was becoming concerned I wouldn’t be able to keep those promises. I should have explained better, but you didn’t exactly ask a lot of questions.” Which still wasn’t a real apology.
“Promises?” What the hell? She’d made promises and now he’d have to help her keep them? Wes jogged up just then. Deacon kept his eyes on Julia while he dug his keys out of his pocket. “Wes, will you go bring the car around?”
He dropped the keys to the Porsche in Wes’s hand.
“Why? You never let me drive your car. Are you and Julia going to talk about me behind my back?”
“No. And she’s Ms. Bradley to you.”
“Then why are you trying to get rid of me?” Wes asked, even as he put his hand with the keys behind his back as if afraid Deacon would snatch them away. “And she said I could call her Julia.”
“Because as of an hour ago when I accepted this job, I became the head coach and you became the assistant. The assistant does things like carry the water bottles, hold the clipboard and bring the car around. And you’re a couple months out of high school. You can call her Ms.”
Wes still didn’t move.
“You might want to get going before I decide the assistant also does the team laundry.”
Wes attempted puppy eyes on Julia. “Why does he get to be the head coach? I’m a much nicer person than he is.”
“He has more experience.”
“I’m taller.”
She shrugged. “Not by much. Plus, he’s older.”
“This is age bias.”
Julia grinned at him, but she shook her head. “I’m leaving personnel decisions in the hands of the guy with the most experience. But I really don’t mind if you call me Julia. In fact, I’d prefer it.”
“Go get the car, Wes.”
“Fine.” Wes spun the keys around his finger and caught them in his hand, clearly excited by the opportunity to drive the Porsche. “Don’t be rude to Julia while I’m gone.” He turned. “Hey, little dudes. Want to ride in my superfast car?”
The three of them ran out of the gym.
Deacon focused on the situation facing him. Coach Donny Simon, the Milton High School sports program and its boosters were the definition of self-interested. He knew that firsthand. He couldn’t let himself forget that they never offered anything that wouldn’t end with them the winners.
Where Julia stood he wasn’t as sure. They might be coaching together, but that didn’t mean they were on the same team.
“You have someplace private we can go so you can tell me about