by Leigh Duncan
“Now, Ms. Smith, I can assure you that Coach Oak will take good care of your son. I’ve known him most of his life, and though this is only his third year at CE, he’s already earned the respect of our entire school and community. He’s great at encouraging young boys to achieve their potential. No one in Cocoa Village knows more about baseball than he does. Why, he’d be pitching for the Norfolk Cannons right now if he hadn’t broken a couple of ribs his last year in the minors.”
Bob made such a good wingman that Travis promised to buy the man a beer the next time the teaching staff met for happy hour. But enough was enough. He held up a hand to stop the flow of compliments and get the focus back where it belonged, on Josh. He glanced at Courtney Smith, hoping the principal had made the right impression.
“Josh doesn’t play organized sports,” she coolly insisted. She stared at Travis as if he had the plague. “And he most assuredly does not play—” her lips formed what looked an awful lot like a sneer “—baseball.”
Never? Never played catch? Never ran around the bases?
Travis clenched his teeth. Every one of his returning players had started with T-ball when they were six, followed by two or three years in the lower levels before he drafted them. Josh Smith would fit in with them like a fish out of water. He opened his mouth to tell Bob he’d changed his mind about putting the boy on his team. One look at Courtney’s pale face renewed his resolve to do what was right by her son.
“Last year my Little League team won the district tournament. We’re hoping to do even better this year. That might be harder to accomplish if I draft such an inexperienced player.” He paused, giving the single mom a chance to appreciate the sacrifice everyone was making for her boy. “But I believe baseball will give Josh’s passion for the game a healthy outlet. From what I’ve seen, he’s a sturdy little scrapper. Who knows?” he asked, prepared to dangle the carrot every parent wanted for their child. “He might just be a superstar waiting to be discovered.”
From the color that filled Courtney’s cheeks, Travis knew he’d scored a home run. He studied her, waiting for the effusive thanks that came whenever he chose a boy for his team.
Courtney’s lips firmed. Her shoulders straightened. Travis swore the temperature in the room dropped when she pinned him with an icy stare.
“Absolutely not,” she issued through clenched teeth. “I will not allow my son to have anything to do with Little League. Or with you.”
In her arms, the baby wailed.
Chapter Two
Courtney stared into the silence that filled the office. Behind a scarred mahogany desk, Principal Morgan’s brows hovered above disbelieving eyes. As for the big hunk in the corner, Travis Oak looked for all the world like a batter who’d taken one for the team and was trying hard to hide how much it stung. Which served him right for being so… She flipped through descriptions and frowned at the adjectives that tickled her tongue. A second glance was definitely in order.
From broad shoulders to muscular legs, everything about the coach said he was a take-charge, winning kind of guy. The kind of man other men respected. The kind who’d grown used to having flirty women agree with everything he said.
Good-looking?
Yes, she’d give him that. From the thick dark hair that brushed the collar of the T-shirt stretched across his chest to the powerful thighs that made even a baggy pair of sweats look good, the man made quite the impression. Beneath the brim of a baseball cap, the tanned planes of his face sloped down to a chiseled jaw. She placed him somewhere in his mid-thirties despite the full lips that gave him a more youthful appearance. Tiny lines at the corners of deep-set brown eyes hinted at a wisdom beyond his years.
If he were simply a teacher, she’d have appreciated his interest in her son. If he taught history or English or math, she would have asked him if he tutored. But she couldn’t argue with the facts. And the fact was, Travis Oak had struck out.
The man had played professional baseball. Strike one.
He coached a championship Little League team. Strike two.
Having failed in his own quest to reach the major leagues, he was on the hunt for a kid who might go all the way. Strike three, and you’re outta here.
Baseball had already stolen her husband, robbed her children of their father, left her little family to face an uncertain future. She refused to let it ruin her son’s life, too.
“Excuse me, but, I don’t think you understand.” Principal Morgan broke the silence.
“What’s difficult about it?” Courtney shrugged. “I won’t let Josh play Little League. Or any other organized sport.” She summoned all her bravado. “Especially not with a minor league player as his coach.”
Travis folded his arms across a chest so wide it dwarfed the school mascot on his T-shirt. “Are you saying I’m not good enou—”
Save me from athletes and their fragile egos.
“No, it’s not that at all,” Courtney said with a sigh. “I’m sure you’re a fine coach.” Framed certificates for innovative leadership crowded the walls of the principal’s office. “There has to be another answer.”
The man in charge cleared his throat. “Ms. Smith, our rules are clear. I’m bending them to make an exception because your son is new to our school. But I’m afraid this is Josh’s only chance. If you don’t go along with this plan, I will expel him.”
Courtney bristled. The principal was wrong about her son. Josh wasn’t a bad kid. He certainly didn’t deserve to get kicked out of school. Sure, he’d had some problems. He’d missed so much class work last year that he’d fallen behind. In his struggle to accept all the changes in his life, he’d sassed his teacher, shown up late for class. Those had cost him his television privileges for a month. Still, given all he’d been through, a little bit of acting out was to be expected, wasn’t it? If Principal Morgan only knew the real reason…
She stopped herself.
He didn’t know. No one did.
A year ago she’d been the wife of the Ryan Smith. Her children had lived a fairy-tale existence. She ran a hand over the simple updo she’d adopted shortly after discovering there’d be no more expensive salon trips in her future. Amazed that she’d once squandered money at Saks when the clothes she bought off the clearance rack at Wal-Mart were just as good, she gave the hem of her shirt a tug. Okay, there was still one pair of to-die-for heels in the back of her closet, but other than those, she’d traded in her Jimmy Choo shoes for serviceable footwear.
Was it any wonder that no one in Cocoa Village had made the connection between a widow determined to eke out a living for her two kids and the wife of a superstar?
Eventually the truth would come out. She cringed at the thought of what would happen when it did. After the car accident, the paparazzi had trailed her home from the hospital. Reporters from all over the globe had camped out on the front lawn. In their quest for a story—any story—about baseball’s number one bad boy, reporters had held her up for public ridicule. Blamed her for Ryan’s philandering ways, his drug use, his gambling. They’d publicized every move she or her children made until she’d loaded what was left of her family into a five-year-old sedan—the only vehicle she could still afford—and escaped in the dead of the night.
She couldn’t put Josh through that notoriety again. Not until he adjusted to their new life. Not before the business she’d started with the last of the money she’d scraped together was solidly in the black. Until then she had to keep their past a secret. For her son’s sake more than for her own.
Morgan tapped a pen against his desk. “You have options. There are several private schools in the area.”
“I can’t afford the tuition,” she objected. Her checking account was already on life support.
“You could home school.”
At her frown, the principal showed her his palms.
“Or there’s the Alternative Learning Center.”
“That’s for juvenile delinquents.” She felt the color drain from her f
ace.
“That’s all I have to offer, Ms. Smith.”
She risked another glance at the coach, her quick study catching a glimmer of awareness in his brown eyes. If there was one thing she knew about men who earned their living on a ball field, it was their win-at-all-costs attitude. As a professional athlete, even a former one, Travis Oak was her best ally in keeping Josh off his team.
She steered her attention to the principal. “So you’re saying if Josh shows up for tryouts, you’ll let him come back to school?”
“No, Ms. Smith, I’m saying he has to play the entire season for Coach Oak.”
“And if he isn’t good enough to make the team?” Though Ryan’s record would one day earn him a place in the Hall of Fame, no one had ever awarded him a medal in fatherhood. He and Josh had never played catch in the backyard. Baseball’s greatest hitter hadn’t even taught his son how to swing a bat. The idea that Travis would want her boy on his championship team was ludicrous.
“I’ll draft him no matter what.” From his corner Travis’s deep voice filled the room. “You have my word on that.”
Convinced she hadn’t misjudged his competitive nature, Courtney faced him.
“Are you sure? If I remember the rules, every kid on your team has to actually play in every game.”
“So you know a thing or two about baseball.” Travis’s lips curved into a perceptive smile. “You just don’t want your son to play the game.”
She flinched as his remark struck too close to the truth. Determined not to let him affect her, she dug deep for a scathing retort that died on her lips the instant their eyes met. For a second, she froze, unable to look away no matter how much she told herself she wanted to. An emotion she couldn’t quite identify flared in Travis’s dark eyes, and this time she did step back.
When the pen Bob Morgan had been holding fell to his desk with a clatter, she used the excuse to draw away from Travis’s intense gaze. Maybe he thought he understood her plight. Maybe he was just being neighborly by helping out the new widow in town. Whatever his intentions, it didn’t matter. She’d keep her distance.
“Ms. Smith?” The principal cleared his throat. “What’s it going to be? Expulsion? Or Little League?”
Her stomach quivered. How was she supposed to choose? “I need to think about it. Whatever I decide, I have to discuss it with my son.”
Neither man put any effort into masking his disappointment, but Principal Morgan spoke.
“This is Thursday. I can hold off putting the paperwork through until Monday. In the meantime, Josh is suspended. If he shows up at tryouts, he can return to school next week. If he doesn’t, no matter what the excuse—” the principal pinned her with a look that was all business “—I will expel him.”
“I understand.” She nodded. Removing the bottle from Addie’s mouth, she hoisted the baby to her shoulder. She aimed a final caustic look at the coach, who’d placed her squarely between one terrible choice and a worse one, and gathered her dignity for the long walk out of the room.
As soon as she stepped into the outer office, Addie started to babble. “Burr! Osh!” She pointed toward her brother. “Osh! Burr!”
“Hush, Addie,” Courtney whispered. She might as well have been talking to a wall. Her daughter’s chatter only grew louder. Without taking her eyes off her son, Courtney made her way past the reception counter to his side.
Josh scrambled to his feet. “What’d Principal Morgan say, Mom? Did you tell him I was sorry? I won’t get in any more fights.”
She took one look at the hopeful expression on his face and straightened her shoulders. Parenthood was definitely not for the faint of heart.
“Josh, get your things together. We’re going home,” she said, unwilling to discuss matters where others might overhear. Confusion muddied the blue eyes that stared up at her.
Josh tilted his head to one side. “But I haven’t had lunch. I’ll miss music class this afternoon.”
Courtney swallowed. “I know. But you can’t stay here, so we have to go home. Now. I’ll explain more later.”
Seeing tears well in his eyes, she fought to stay calm. His wasn’t the only day that hadn’t gone according to plan. She was supposed to be behind the counter at Coffee on Brevard, serving up a cheery smile to go along with soup, sandwiches and coffee. Instead, she’d lost business she couldn’t afford to lose. To make matters worse, her only hope of keeping her son in school was to let him participate in the very sport she’d sworn she’d never have anything to do with again.
She ached to tell Josh everything would be okay, but how could she when she wasn’t sure herself?
Travis fought a desire to stare after the slim young woman as she marched out of the room. He lost the battle. A low whistle escaped his lips.
“Well, that certainly didn’t go the way I expected.” Bob’s chair squeaked as he leaned away from his desk. “Do you and Ms. Smith have a history I should know about?”
Travis removed his baseball hat and ran a hand through his hair. His fingers came away surprisingly damp. He rubbed them together, chalking the moisture up to a higher-than-normal humidity level. Courtney Smith certainly didn’t have a thing to do with it. He shook his head.
“Never seen her before in my life.” But there was no denying that something had put him squarely on her bad side. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been shot down. He was pretty sure no one had ever done it with such finality. Except for the tiniest spark when their eyes met, the woman hadn’t shown so much as a flicker of interest. Not even his success in the minor leagues had impressed her. If anything, he suspected his history in pro ball had worked against him.
Which made her one in a million, whether hers was the most common last name in America or not.
True, he’d never made it to the majors, but there’d been a time when a raised eyebrow was all it would have taken to summon something soft and willing to his bed. Back in those days, when he’d refused to get involved with the cleat chasers who filled the bars after a game, his teammates had practically labeled him a monk. He’d put up with their gibes because, having come from a broken home, he knew how it affected a kid. Vowing he’d never put a child of his own through that, he’d set his standards impossibly high. While that meant spending his nights alone, it was a trade-off he’d been willing to make.
Lately, though, as he’d watched fellow teachers and former teammates with their families, he’d begun to wonder if he’d ever find the right woman.
Courtney Smith, with her petite frame and a keen wit that showed itself despite her literally getting called to the principal’s office—now, there was a woman who might meet his criteria. A man could get lost in those big blue eyes. She had the perfect amount of curves in all the right places. He shifted uncomfortably at the thought of her golden hair cascading softly around her shoulders. If she’d shown the slightest indication that she felt the same way about him, he might have asked her out.
If it weren’t for a couple of big stumbling blocks. As for those…
Despite himself, he stared out the door as Courtney settled the baby—Stumbling Block #1—on her hip. She placed a gentle hand on the shoulder of Stumbling Block #2. The kid gave her an incredulous look and jerked away.
Travis took in a deep breath. If there was ever a woman who needed help, Courtney did. Yet she’d rejected his offer before she could even hear him out. It wasn’t as if he’d tried to seduce her. As tempting as that idea might be, he’d simply wanted to help her son.
What widow with two kids wouldn’t appreciate the gesture?
He waited until she disappeared through the main door before he succumbed to a growing need for more information. “What do you know about her?”
“Not much,” Bob answered with a shrug. “According to Josh’s records, she and the children are new in town. She opened that coffee shop in Cocoa Village a couple of months ago. I haven’t been there, but my wife says it’s fixed up real nice inside.” Bob nodded to himself. “Sm
all place like that, she probably manages it all by herself.”
“I imagine so,” Travis agreed. He put himself in her situation and felt a little sick to his stomach. He pushed aside the stab of sympathy. “I have to get to my next class,” he said, standing.
“Let me know how it goes Saturday. I’m sure once she thinks about it, Ms. Smith will realize that playing Little League is the best solution for her boy.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it.” Travis’s mouth slanted to one side.
The doubt in Bob’s eyes shifted suggestively. “I’ve seen the way you operate, Travis. There isn’t a woman on our staff you haven’t got wrapped around your little finger, including Cheryl there.” He nodded toward the white-haired secretary who manned the front desk. “If you really want to help this boy, you might consider swinging by a certain coffee shop after school. Pour on a little charm. Ms. Smith won’t be able to resist. Who knows where that might lead?”
“I admit, I’ve got a sudden hankering for caffeine.” Travis flashed a quick grin on his way out the door. “I’d like to put Josh on my team, see if we can’t work on his attitude a bit. As for his mom, though…she’s definitely not my type.”
Courtney Smith might have cornered the market on gorgeous, and her willingness to stand up to him was refreshing. But a guy intent on coaching in the pros couldn’t afford a needy woman in his life. A young widow single-handedly raising a baby plus a kid with a Mount Rushmore-size chip on his shoulder? Well, that situation had need written all over it.
“Can I go to the park, Mom?”
Are you nuts, kiddo?
Courtney awarded herself a gold star in parenthood when she refrained from asking the question. Shaded by enough trees to keep children cool through the dog days of summer, the city park was filled with swings and slides. It was also two blocks away, and Josh knew he was never allowed to go there by himself. Plus, he was in trouble with a capital T.
Without saying a word, Courtney parked behind Coffee on Brevard. She counted to five before she propped one arm over the seatback. She turned, prepared to explain in no uncertain terms that Josh was grounded.
