Falling for the Cop

by Dana Nussio

  “Yes, I’m Coach Natalie’s friend,” he said, responding to the first question.

  Natalie could have sworn that his warm gaze on her felt more than just friendly.

  Kendall rolled to the outside of the huddle to get a closer look at Shane. “You have a wheelchair.”

  Shane nodded. “Yeah, something happened at work.”

  “An accident?” Lucas asked.

  “Something like that.”

  “I was in a car accident,” Lucas said.

  “Sorry, man,” Shane told him.

  Natalie braced herself, waiting for Shane to reveal what she already knew, but he didn’t volunteer any details.

  “What kind of job do you have?” Kendall wanted to know.

  “I’m a police officer.”

  Shane met Natalie’s gaze as he said it, so she forced herself to look away, toward the basket on the south side of the court.

  “Really?” one of the players chimed.

  “That’s cool,” another called out.

  “You aren’t a cop anymore, are you?” Lucas, ever the realist, asked.

  Shane smile tightened. “Sure I am. I’ll go back to work when I get better.”

  He blinked as if recognizing that he’d said those words to the wrong audience. But the children only nodded. Some of them still believed they’d get better, too.

  “But I need something to do while I’m waiting to go back to work, so maybe I could be your assistant coach,” he blurted.

  Natalie could only stare at Shane. His eyes widened. Had he even shocked himself with his knee-jerk offer? She shook her head, even as her pulse rushed.

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Why had he offered? Did he know anything about basketball? “The season is more than half over, and the kids would have to get comfortable with another coach...”

  “You’re probably right.”

  She’d expected him to argue, so her disappointment that he was giving up without a fight surprised her.

  Chase, who seldom had an opinion about anything, suddenly rolled his chair closer to Shane. “Can Mr. Shane be our assistant coach, Coach Natalie?”

  “Yeah, can he?” another chimed.

  Natalie was caught—had been from the moment he’d arrived at the gym with an agenda that still wasn’t obvious to her. But as much as she couldn’t disappoint the children, who were excited to be near an adult facing challenges similar to theirs, she reasoned that it might be good for Shane, as well. Somehow she needed to help restore his confidence if she wanted him to move forward in his recovery.

  “We’ll need to check with the league. And your parents.”

  Who was she kidding? League officials would be thrilled to have a police officer among the coaching ranks. As for the parents, they were already crowding closer, excited about the prospect of having someone with a physical disability serving as a role model for their kids. She couldn’t blame them.

  “If it’s okay with them, then it’s fine with me,” she said.

  What followed were the loudest cheers her players had made all day.

  The man who’d been with Shane earlier strode across the gym as the players waved and started off with their families. He raised an eyebrow when he reached them.

  “What have you gotten into now?” He turned conspiratorially to Natalie, gesturing toward Shane. “This guy. You leave him alone for a minute and he causes all kinds of trouble.”

  “I’m starting to realize that,” she said with a wry smile. “Hi. I’m Natalie.”

  “Trevor.” He shook her hand.

  “One of Shane’s police officer friends?”

  Trevor waggled an eyebrow. “Did he already tell you about me?”

  “Just a guess.”

  “Good. He didn’t tell me about you, either.” He exchanged a look with Shane and then turned back to her.

  “I’m Shane’s physical therapist,” she explained.

  “Oh, I see.” He gave Shane a thumbs-up and then turned back to her. “Count on Shane to have a therapist like you. He always finds the pretty ladies.”

  “Just his PT,” she clarified. And what exactly did the guy see? “Well, apparently, we’re going to do some coaching together.”

  “Him? Coach basketball?” Trevor stifled a laugh. “So that’s why you wanted to come to a game. To coach?”

  “I’ll be the assistant coach,” Shane clarified.

  “If everything checks out,” Natalie couldn’t help adding.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Trevor said. “You’ve got one of the good ones. The kids will be lucky to have him.”

  “I keep hearing that. He must pay you guys for endorsements.” But even as she said it, the officer’s words replayed in her thoughts. You’ve got one of the good ones. She didn’t have him at all, and didn’t even want to...right?

  “He pays every month, just like clockwork.” Trevor turned back to Shane. “So, since you’re assistant coaching and all, you’ll be needing rides to the practices and games.”

  “I can pick him up,” Natalie heard herself saying. “I mean, since transportation is always an issue.”

  Both men looked at her.

  “I can’t ask you to do that,” Shane said.

  “But you can ask me?” Trevor said.

  Natalie shook her head to squash the argument. “I’m already going to the practices and the games, so it only makes sense for me to pick you up.”

  When Shane opened his mouth as if to argue again, she added, “It would give your coworkers a break.”

  She couldn’t explain why she’d launched the low blow any more than she knew why she’d offered to drive him, but when he blinked, she knew she’d hit her target. What kind of person used a guy’s guilt against him like that?

  “Hey, Shane, you know it’s no trouble,” Trevor began.

  “Thanks, man.”

  Natalie studied the dry-erase play chart in her hands instead of focusing on either of them. The last thing she needed was someone else questioning her motives. She was doing a good job of that herself.

  “Well, if you’re sure,” Shane said finally.

  She glanced up to find Shane watching her. A tremor fluttered through her so quickly that she had to grip the board to keep from dropping it. This whole plan was a bad idea. Coaching with Shane was already not in anyone’s best interest, especially not hers, and now she’d volunteered to put extra minutes on the time clock.

  “Of course I’m sure,” she said anyway.

  “Then that would be great. Thanks.”

  Great. That wasn’t the way she would describe the prospect of spending so much time alone with Shane Warner when it had nothing to do with his recovery. Dangerous. Unwise. Now those words offered a more apt description. Like tightrope walking on a fraying cord. But she’d promised to do it, and she always kept her commitments. Even if the men in her life had never kept theirs.

  Shane probably would change his mind about being an assistant coach, anyway. He’d already almost backed out the moment she questioned his offer. As much as she hated to see these children face another disappointment in their lives, it would be easier for the kids to handle if he didn’t come at all rather than to attend several practices and then be a no-show for an important game.

  No, it wouldn’t surprise Natalie if Shane backed out before she could pick him up for the first practice. But she had a strange feeling that she would be as disappointed as the kids if he did.

  CHAPTER SIX

  SHANE PEEKED OUT from behind the curtain Tuesday night as the van pulled to a stop in his driveway, its headlights aiming cone-shaped beams on his garage door. He dropped the cloth back into place, hoping she hadn’t noticed. Natalie wouldn’t appreciate it if he looked too excited about go
ing tonight. She certainly hadn’t seemed too happy about working with him when she’d let him know during his PT appointment the day before that his coaching application had been approved.

  Maybe she preferred to work alone, but her reticence had felt much more personal than just that.

  Now her offer of transportation afterward, he couldn’t explain that one at all. He was tempted to think of it as some grand gesture, and she probably just felt sorry for him. Worse yet, she probably pitied the other officers who’d been carting him to his appointments.

  By the time the bell rang, he’d almost decided to keep quiet and let her believe he wasn’t home. But since he was the one who’d strong-armed her into accepting his help, he moved to the door and opened it.

  “Right on time.” He pushed the storm door open until she caught hold of it.

  “We need to be at the gym before the kids start showing up.” She stepped inside and glanced around stiffly before turning back to him. “You ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Maybe he wasn’t the only nervous one. He was already sweating under his coat that Kelly had assisted him with before she’d left a half hour ago, but that was better than having to ask Natalie for more help.

  When he started to put on his hat, she took a step forward but stopped herself.

  “That’s a really nice ramp out there,” she said instead.

  “It works so much better than that long drop off the porch.” He grinned, but when she frowned back at him, he explained, “My friends built it for me.”

  “You have some really good friends.”

  “I do,” he said as he locked the door.

  At the top of the snow-covered ramp, she glanced from him to the wood structure as if asking for permission to assist him. He nodded. He couldn’t fight help all the time.

  She rolled him down the ramp at a tortoise’s pace. “I bet this thing gets slick.”

  “It’s not too bad. We keep it salted.”

  As they reached the wheelchair-accessible van, Shane turned back to her, waiting for an explanation, although he already knew the answer. “Nice wheels.”

  “In my field, I have some connections.”

  She had more in her own family, but he didn’t mention it. She must have had her reasons why she didn’t want him to know about her mother.

  “Guess I’m not the only one with good friends.”

  Natalie only smiled as she clicked the button for the side slider door and the lift. More practiced than his friends and with better equipment, she had him in the van in only a few minutes.

  “Well, that was relatively painless,” she said as she started the engine.

  “Speak for yourself.” But after her side glance, he added, “Okay, you did a good job.”

  “That’s better.”

  “Wow, some people really need the affirmations.”

  “Some of us are starved for positive feedback.”

  She’d said it as a joke, but that only made him wonder how much truth there was in it.

  “The kids are going to be so glad to see you tonight,” she said in an obvious segue.

  “I’m surprised the county people approved me so fast.”

  Her chuckle was low and unintentionally sexy.

  “You must not realize how hard it is to get volunteers. Especially men. And especially those who’ve already passed a police background check. You were, in basketball lingo, a slam dunk.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  An awkward silence filled the van after that, making the hum of the engine and the muted tones of surprising retro-grunge music from the radio seem louder.

  But as they pulled into a parking spot at the elementary school, she spoke up again. “We’ll start with our regular drills tonight. Chest passes, bounce passes, layups. Do you have any drills you like to do?”

  “First, you’ll have to tell me what a layup is.”

  The van lurched as Natalie hit the brake too hard, a yellow haze from the parking lot light creeping inside. “I knew it! You don’t know anything about basketball.”

  He had to grin at her frown. “That would be true. But I do, actually, know what a layup is, as long as I don’t have to demonstrate.”

  “I should have known better than to agree to your becoming my assistant after you said you saw good basketball the other night.”

  “Yeah, that was probably too much.”

  She only shook her head and then turned to study him. “If you don’t know anything about basketball, then why did you offer? Wait. Not just that. What were you doing at the game in the first place?”

  He chose to answer the second question first. “I was curious after you talked about coaching during my appointment.”

  “You were that curious?”

  “A little creepy, I guess.”

  “Ya think?”

  He shrugged. “I have a laptop at home and too much time on my hands lately.” Not that it offered much of an explanation. He straightened and waited for more questions. The ones he would have asked if she’d shown up at his game instead of the other way around. Like just how curious a person had to be to track someone down at a kids’ basketball game.

  “What about the coaching thing?” she prompted.

  “It looked like you could use the help.”

  At that she chuckled. “It must have been really bad for someone with no basketball experience to step up to help coach.”

  “You mean it won’t help if I teach them about first downs or extra points?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Punts and yellow flags?”

  “You’re about to be fired before your first practice.”

  “Okay. Okay.” He raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll keep my expertise to myself.”

  Was that a smile playing on her lips? Suddenly, he wanted to think up a dozen more clever things to say so he could make her smile like that again.

  “Unless you tell the kids you know less about basketball than they do, they won’t know.” She tilted her head from side to side as if working out details. “Just follow my lead. I can also teach you a little about basketball during the drive to practices and games.”

  His gaze slipped from her to the van’s interior. He could think of a lot of things she could teach him in that van.

  “A few rules are unique to wheelchair basketball, like the classification system for determining the functional abilities of each player, but I can teach you those, too,” she continued.

  Shane chewed the inside of his cheek, trying not to grin. If only she knew about the type of lessons he would have preferred. “You’re being so helpful, especially when you weren’t thrilled to have me coach with you.”

  “I didn’t mind,” she began and then shrugged. “Well, not much. Anyway, the kids were so excited. You have something more important than basketball experience.”

  “You mean the chair?”

  She nodded. “Whether you’re just using the wheelchair temporarily or not, and we both know it is temporary, you share something in common with them.”

  He swallowed. This had been easier before she’d laid it out plainly. They did share something in common, but was he the kind of role model they needed? Would she see him as a good example for her players if she knew more about his history?

  Instead of waiting for him to answer, she climbed out and hit the switch that moved his chair back and then down the ramp. As the lift retracted, she opened the hatch and pulled out a bag of basketballs.

  “The kids are lucky to have you,” she said as they started up the walk. “They need to see that they are not limited by their physical challenges, and it’s generous of you to offer your time to help them see that.”

  Shane was glad it was already g
etting dark, so she couldn’t see him wince. She might think he’d made this big sacrifice only for the sake of the children, but he knew better. He wondered just how much of his decision had been about the children and how much was all about proving himself to their coach.

  * * *

  “SHOOT AGAIN, BUDDY,” Shane called out and then rolled closer to Chase. “You almost had that last one.”

  Natalie had to smile over Shane’s exaggeration. Chase hadn’t made a shot all night. Or once this season at practice, or in a game. As her own group of players continued to practice free throws, Natalie couldn’t help but peek over as Shane demonstrated flawlessly for Chase the form she’d taught Shane only an hour before.

  Who was she kidding? She’d been watching every move Shane had made all night, paying so little attention to her own group that she was lucky she hadn’t tripped over one of their chairs. She’d observed while Shane demonstrated dribbling skills—surprisingly advanced for a wheelchair basketball novice, especially one in a regular wheelchair instead of a sports chair. She’d marveled at how quickly the children had accepted tips from him. And, despite her reservations, she’d been impressed by his determination and relentless positivity.

  “Now remember, you need to team your shooting hand with your balancing hand to get ready for your shot,” Shane told the boy, using the terms Natalie had taught him, as well.

  This time Shane put the ball up in the air with a skill that suggested he should have been the head coach instead of her.

  “Swoosh,” Kendall called out.

  “That’s how it’s done,” someone else said.

  When Shane glanced back and caught Natalie staring, he winked. Though her cheeks burned, she didn’t bother looking away. She could justify watching her assistant coach do his job, couldn’t she?

  But as the ball he was attempting to scoop up slipped from his fingers and rolled across the floor, she had the reminder she needed that Shane was more than a fellow coach to her. He was her client. The next time he glanced over at her, she looked away.