by Ciana Stone
He then looked at his father. "But now, you're asking me to start an entirely new lie and one that's even more convoluted."
"Yes, I am." Russell replied without hesitation. "Son—Dillon, we wouldn't ask this if we didn't believe there was credible threat to every member of this family. Your uncle and I have gone to great lengths, and expense to insure the safety of the family and as much as I know you'll hate hearing this, you have no choice."
"There's always a choice, Dad. I can walk away from this place and never look back."
"But would you do that to your team?" Ivy asked. "Is your loyalty so anemic that you'd turn your back on them rather than try and cooperate with something that could be for your own good, and perhaps theirs as well?"
"Don't ever question my loyalty to my team." Dillon barked before he could tamp down the acid rise of anger. He held up a hand. "I apologize. Ms. Harper, I get where you're going and concede the point. I wouldn't walk away. But let me ask you something, if I may?"
"Absolutely."
"Do you know anything at all about football?"
Chuckles from people in the room had Dillon looking around in confusion. "Someone want to clue me in on the joke?"
"I apologize, Coach Walker." Ivy said. "Harper is my married name."
"You're married?" He blurted.
"Widowed. My husband was killed in Afghanistan."
"I'm sorry."
"Thank you, so am I. But the laughter was because football has been part of my life since the day I was born, as my maiden name attests.
"Which is?"
Dillon got it, one thousand percent the moment the name came from her lips. "He's your father? Five times superbowl champion, more wins than any coach in NFL history?"
"Yep. That's my dad. I pretty much grew up in a locker room since my mom died when I was two. A hit and run, drunk driver while she was out jogging."
"Again, I'm sorry for your loss, but—okay, I'm at a loss. You probably are pretty damn familiar with the game. Still, I'm not convinced this will work."
"But we won't know until we try. And hey, I know how you feel. After all, I have to convince the people of this town I'm all hot over the high school coach."
"Well, thanks. Take my ego down with my intelligence."
She laughed and walked over, sticking out her hand. "What do you say we give it a try? There needs to be some kind of plan in place come Monday when school is back in session and there's no time to come up with anything between now and then.
"I propose we give it a try and in a couple of weeks if we see that we're headed for a huge crash and burn, we pull the plug and come up with an alternative."
He looked down at her hand and then at her face. "Ah hell, fine." He took her hand and she smiled at him. "Now is that any way to act to the gal you want so much you cajoled an entire school board to get onto your staff?"
"I did what?"
He heard his uncle and father laugh and even saw Lula bite down on a snicker. "Yeah, yuck it up people."
"I'm sorry." Lula was the only one to respond. "And like Ivy said, give it a chance. Besides, don't forget that you're getting more than a training coach in this deal. The increase in budget means you get to add two offensive and one defensive coaches to your roster."
"Trying to soften the blow?"
"Just a reminder that it's not all bad."
"Fine. What do we tell the principal and superintendant?
"They've already been told everything they need to know," Richard answered.
Dillon smirked. He'd been railroaded. No two ways about it. And he didn't have one ounce of confidence that anything good was going to come of this aside from the school district and Cotton Creek High School getting an influx of money that was badly needed.
Maybe that should be enough. If he meant what he said and his loyalty was to his team and his school.
"Then I guess it's a done deal." He looked at Ivy. "Welcome to the team, Ms. Harper."
Damn, he hated it when life demanded that he put up or shut up.
Chapter Three
Ivy put her hand over the top of her glass as Lula started to pour her another drink. "I'm kind of a light-weight when it comes to alcohol."
"No worries," Lula refilled her and Naomie's glasses. "Here's to one hell of an interesting assignment."
"Says the woman ecstatic to have wormed her way out." Ivy teased and raised her glass. "Not that I blame you. Damn, girl, Lincoln is—"
"Thor." Lula said and took a drink.
"Holy shit, you're right. He does look like Thor. The question is, does he have moves like a superhero?"
"Asgardian God, baby."
"Well here's to you, Lula. You brought home gold."
"Indeed I did. And listen, it's no real burden to be around Dillon. I mean aside from those blue eyes and hot body, he's actually fun to be around when you get to know him."
Ivy would have eaten her arm before she'd have admitted that she knew all about Dillon Walker and how attractive and appealing to the opposite sex he was. As far as anyone in Cotton Creek knew, she'd never heard of the man and that's how she wanted it to stay.
"He is hot, I'll agree with you there, but good god, his uncle and father are ... whew! And hey, Naomie, what's with the fireworks between you and Russell Walker? Every time I've seen the two of you together it's like something's about to blow."
"Nothing is ever going to blow. Never, ever."
"Why not?"
"It's just not. I don't get involved with people I work with."
"I hear you. I follow that rule, too. Which makes this assignment really strange. I'm supposed to act like I'm knocking boots with him on a regular basis?"
"Yep." Lula said. "And you're going to have to let people see you cop a feel or kiss him every now and then and tell him to do the same. You're supposed to be two people who met over the holidays, fell madly in lust and can hardly stand to be out of each other's sight. Which reminds me, did he give you a key to his place?"
Ivy pushed her half-full glass away. She was starting to feel a little queasy. "I have to say something and I don't want either of you to think bad of me, but I have to say it. This assignment is so fucked up."
Lula snickered and Ivy scowled at her. "I'm serious, Lula. I'm supposed to move into some man's house that I don't even know, make an entire town think I'm so hot for him I can't breathe unless we're in the same room, and somehow convince him to pretend the same. How the holy hell am I going to manage that?"
"Easy." Lula said. "Use what God gave you girl."
"Pardon?"
"Don't pull that shit with me, Ivy. You know you're gorgeous. And sexy. So use it. Flirt with him, let him know that even though it's a job it doesn't mean you can't have fun. Use your powers of persuasion to get him on board with looking at you the way a man looks at a woman he can hardly keep his hands off."
"I agree." Naomie chimed in. "If the two of you don't have that yeah we're doing it and its fucking mind-blowing vibe then you won't convince anyone of the cover story."
Ivy put her arms on the table and then lowered her head down to rest on them. "You want me to seduce the football coach?"
There was silence and finally she looked up. "Well?"
Naomie and Lula looked at one another and then at her. "Yeah, that pretty much sums it up." Lula answered. "I'm not saying to have sex with him because that is definitely outside the scope of your assignment, but you can make him want it really bad."
"I hate you. I should never have let you talk me into this."
"You do not hate me. You're doing this because you're my friend and I needed a favor."
"This goes way beyond a favor, Lula."
"Yes, I suppose. But consider this..."
"What?" Ivy asked when Lula just sat there with a cat who licked the cream smirk on her face.
"What if you discover that the act isn't an act?"
"Seriously? You think I'm seriously going to fall for a good-looking, high-school football coach who li
ves in bumfuck—sorry, small town USA?"
"I think stranger things have happened. Think about it. You both love football, you're both active and probably like to work out and –and who knows how much else you have in common. What if this is fate, Ivy?"
"Fate is a bitch who takes what you love from you."
Lula reached out to take Ivy's hand. "I know it seems that way and I'm so sorry about what happened to Mike. He was a good guy. One of the best. But you know he died doing what he loved, and what mattered to him. You know that, Ivy. We should all be so lucky."
"I know. I get it, Lula. I do. And I know if he was here, he'd literally thump me in the head and tell me to get on with it. Life is for the living. That's what he used to say, after he cried and drank himself to sleep over losing someone to war. Life is for the living. Don't you ever forget that Ivy."
"He meant it. And you've been alone too long. It's been what, three years?"
"I'm not going to fall in love with the football coach, Lula. Not. Going. To. Happen."
"Okay, then just do your job the way we were trained. Make your cover more believable than what's real."
Ivy knew her friend was right, about a lot of things. She knew the minute Lula showed up that her life was about to change, and even though she was now questioning, and even resisting, she knew that when she left Lula's house, she'd drive to Dillon Walker's, put on her game face and set about creating a character for herself to be for the duration of this assignment. A woman who was insanely in lust with the high school football coach.
*****
Dillon popped the tops on two longneck beers and carried them both to the back deck where his brother Riggs sat waiting. "Thanks," Riggs accepted the beer.
"So you're telling me there's no one camped on your doorstep guarding you night and day?" Dillon asked.
"Don't go there, little bro. You and I are not birds of a feather and you know that. But in answer to your question, there is additional security and at the risk of pissing in your cornflakes, the old man asked my opinion on the recommendations for the rest of the family."
"And you approved the—bodyguard they selected for me? Thanks Riggs, even my brother thinks I'm such a pussy that I need a girl to watch out for me. What the fuck, man?"
"There you go, playing the baby of the family card. Don't you get it? He's scared for all of us, Dillon. When that threat came in, it scared him and Uncle Richard. They'd thumb their noses at someone who threatened them, but their families? You know better. Dad may be a hard-ass but he loves us and he'll do whatever it takes to keep us safe."
"Including hiring a girl, who I'm supposed to be involved with, to watch over me. Like I'm a kid."
"But dude, what a girl. I mean Jesus, bro, if he wanted to hire me a bodyguard that looked like Ivy Harper, I'd be like bring it on, you know what I mean?"
"Yeah, you'd be in her pants before you knew her last name. I get it."
"That's not what I meant, but whatever. If that's what it takes to sell the idea that the two of you are hot and heavy then live the fantasy man."
"I don't—you don't get it."
"Then explain it to me."
"I can't just pretend. Either it's real or it's not."
"Then I'd say you have a problem and you better get a handle on it because," Riggs checked his watch. "She'll be here in under two hours and you've got to have your mind wrapped around how to deal with it."
"I really hate this. With Lula it was easy. She made it a game, and we knew it wasn't real. With Miss Harper—"
"Ivy. You've got to get used to using her name, man."
"Fine. With Ivy, it's different. She's not married. I mean she was, but her husband was killed and –and why the hell did she say yes to this crazy plan?"
"Because Uncle Richard and Lula asked her to."
Dillon nodded, tipped up his beer and chugged down half of it. "Maybe it's because he's family, but don't you find it remarkable how devoted people are to him?"
"Not really. It's like Dad. People stand in awe of Dad, respect and even fear him and it's not because he acts like a bad ass or bullies anyone. He's just naturally the leader of the pack, if you know what I mean. Uncle Richard, he's that guy that makes you believe and believe in and inspires people to want to do better and be better and they'd do anything to help him get us—all of us, to that shining dream he's made us see.
"He's the real deal man. He's the shining star and dad's the mind and muscle that holds it all together so that Richard can charm the birds from the sky and we can all rest easy. He's the equivalent of the man on the wall, standing watch over all of us, ready to die when needed."
"I guess they are pretty special. But that doesn't change the fact that they don't think I can take care of myself."
"No, it doesn't. But what would you rather have, little brother? A father who didn't care, or one who'd give it all to make sure you survived? Remember what he told us when we were kids? We're the future, the ones who'll hold the legacy for all the Walkers to come.
"That means something to him Dillon. Don't fault him for it."
"So, I should just shut the fuck up and play along."
"Well, that's one way of putting it. And who knows? You might just have a good time. Stranger things have happened."
"I'll believe it when I see it."
"Yep, I guess so. Okay, I'm outta here. Keep it between the ditches."
"See ya."
Dillon sat there after Riggs left, thinking about what his brother had said and what was about to come. What he hadn't told Riggs and wouldn't tell anyone is that the thing that bothered him the most about this awful plan was that he'd taken one look at Ivy Harper and had damn near gotten an erection.
From one look. God only knew what would happen when she moved in and he had to see her every day. Weren't there drugs to control that?
As crazy as that might seem, he got up and hurried inside to grab his Macbook and do some research.
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As as little added bonus – the following is an excerpt from the first book in Ciana's upcoming new series Heritage,
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Chapter One
The volume of the music decreased, and Mathias called out. "Happy New Year!"
Russell clapped along with everyone else as fireworks lit the sky over the lake, the pops and booms competing with the cheers and happy voices around him. This New Year's Eve was far different from any other he'd experienced.
A woman he was in partnership with to build butterfly houses and apiaries, Reese Quinn, had just exchanged vows with a Navy Seal assigned to the Clear Creek Training Center outside the town of Cotton Creek, in Cray County Texas.
He'd guess that at least half the residents of Cotton Creek were there, along with all the instructors and support staff from the training center. The couple said their "I do's" before midnight and now were having their first dance as newlyweds.
The dance floor was crowded with people. Being on the sidelines, watching, was something uncommon for him. He'd typically have a date for any social function. There were always women available for such things. This, however, was an event he'd elected to attend alone.
"Happy New Year, Mr. Walker."
The female voice behind him had him rising from his seat and turning. Dr. Naomie Taylor smiled up at him. She held a glass of champagne in each hand. "Join me?"
"Why not?" Russell accepted the glass, touched its rim against hers and then drank. "Happy New Year, Naomie."
She put one hand on a hip and struck a sassy pose. "Why Russell Walker, is that the best you can do?"
He recognized the tease in her tone and responded in kind. "Well, I don't know. What would you have me do, Dr. Taylor?"
"Ask a gal who has no date to dance?"
"That I can do."
He offered his hand, and she placed hers in it. Once on the dance floor, he swung her around. Naomie smiled up at him, and Russell took a selfish moment to admire her beau
ty and revel in the feel of her in his arms.
"Wasn't it a beautiful wedding?" she asked and sighed. "Just perfect."
"Yes, it was. And now that it's done, will you be moving to Heritage?"
"Really? Business? Now?"
"Important business." He felt the need to interject their business relationship into any encounter. As much for himself as for her.
"Fine. I have about one more week to finalize the set up at the SynthBee production facility, and then I'll be ready to turn my mind to the breeding program. Have you looked at the portfolio of potential horses I want to evaluate at and consider for the program?"
"I have. It's a fairly extensive list. Why so many?"
"Because most won't pan out and we won't accept anything less than the best." She paused to give him a piercing look he'd come to recognize as her issuing a challenge. "Correct?"
"Correct." He agreed and added. "It appears you're going to be spending a good bit of my money."
"It'll be worth it."
"It better be."
"Have a little faith, Mr. Walker. Have I let you down yet?"
That earned a laugh from him. "Naomie, you've done a lot since I've known you. Infuriated, astonished, impressed, confused, amused, cajoled and even convinced me to take part in things I'd never normally agree to but to date, you haven't let me down."
"Well, there you go." She looked around for a moment then up at him. "In the spirit of honesty between partners, I have to tell you that I smoked a big fatty with Lula just before the ceremony and had two glasses of champagne, so I'm a little toasted."
"And you're telling me this why?"
"So, you know I'm not in charge of my faculties tonight, and you can't hold this against me."
"Hold what--?"
Before he could get the rest of the words out, she'd snaked an arm up to take hold of the back of his neck. Naomie plastered herself against him, pulled him down to meet her lips and planted a kiss on him.
The thought entered his mind that he should end it. Entered and then left. She'd given herself an excuse for her actions. He hadn't, and wouldn't try to invent one. He'd wondered about this almost since the day they met, and that was quite a few months ago.
