“Stop!” I yelled. “Kendall, stop!”
“Why? What’s the matter? You don’t like Wham!?”
“I will pay you five hundred dollars to put on anything else. No, not anything—I don’t trust you. Put on some country.”
“Five hundred dollars. That is tempting, but you need to broaden your musical tastes, Hunter.”
When another song came on and I recognized what it was, my hand landed on her leg and squeezed. Kendall stilled.
“A thousand dollars. Please change it.”
“But this is ‘Sussudio.’ It’s a great song.”
“Unless you want me to hurl my body out of this moving car, you will change it. Now.”
“Okay! Okay! Calm down, I’ll change the station.”
A country song filled the car, and I instantly relaxed.
“Thank you,” I whispered, dropping my head back against the headrest.
“Hunter?”
I closed my eyes and attempted to steady my heart rate.
“Yeah?”
“Um... your hand.”
Lifting my head, I glanced over and saw my hand was moving up and down Kendall’s leg. I jerked my gaze from my hand to Kendall’s face. She was stopped at a light, and her teeth were sunk into her bottom lip as she stared at me with a look I couldn’t read.
“Sorry,” I said softly, withdrawing my hand and jamming my fingers through my hair in frustration. “Could you turn the AC on? It’s starting to get hot in this car.”
Without a word, she reached over and turned up the AC.
By the time we made it through Nashville, it was nearly lunchtime.
“What time is he expecting us?” Kendall asked.
“I told him it would be sometime after lunch. I wasn’t sure what time we’d be heading out this morning. I did let him know we wanted to stay and watch a practice. I’d like to see how he works with his players.”
Kendall nodded. “We could get lunch, text him that we’ll head his way after that.”
“That’ll work. Franklin is only forty-five minutes away. There’s a great place to eat that I think you’ll enjoy.”
“Sounds good.”
Less than an hour later, we were walking into 55 South. The waitress seated us right away. After she took our drink order, I asked for an order of fried pickles.
“Fried pickles?” Kendall asked, her nose crinkling up again. Damn if it didn't make my pants feel too small.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never had fried pickles.”
“And if I haven’t?”
I sighed. “I have so much to teach you.”
Her eyes heated with something that looked like lust before she gazed back down to the menu.
Did I imagine that or does she want me as much as I want her?
After eating our order of fried pickles, two Nashville Hot Chicken sandwiches, and a large order of fries, we were full and ready to get on the road. The conversation had been light and easy, which was a shift from our normal. We talked about both business and personal topics. I asked her questions about where she grew up, and she asked me some about where I grew up. I confessed to the reason I hated eighties music only to have her laugh for a good five minutes. I had wanted to bring up the near burning of my throat, but I was enjoying myself too much. I’d bring it up another time.
“I’ll drive to the school,” I stated as we left the restaurant.
“What makes you think I’ll let you drive my car?”
Rolling my eyes, I stopped and looked at her. “Are we back to this?”
“To what?” she asked, her hands on her hips.
“Bickering, Kendall. Just let me drive the damn car. We’ll get there faster.”
“Are you saying I drive slow?”
“No. I’m saying I can get us there faster because I know where we’re going. In case you forgot, I used to live in this area.”
After a moment or two while she considered my argument, Kendall slapped the keys into my hand.
The drive to the high school was short—ten minutes at most. After stopping in the office to check in, we were escorted out to the field house and to Coach Mac White’s office. He stood and smiled as I motioned for Kendall to enter the room first. It didn’t take long for Boardroom Kendall to reappear.
“Mr. White, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for seeing us today to discuss the possibility of coaching for my team.”
Mac looked at me and then back to Kendall’s outstretched hand before shaking it. Mac and I had met a few years back after I had just started coaching for Tennessee. His brother-in-law had been my defensive line coach. I probably should have informed Kendall of our past connection, but it honestly hadn’t entered my mind. At least not until that very moment.
“It’s good to see you again, Hunter. How’ve you been?”
Shit.
Kendall snapped her head around and glared at me. She was clearly not happy to be just finding out this bit of information.
“I hadn’t realized you were acquaintances,” she said, shooting daggers straight at my head.
“Sure are. My brother-in-law Pete was the defensive line coach for Tennessee. Still is, as a matter of fact. Those boys sure could use you back, Coach. That losing streak they’re on is killing us all.”
I smiled, rubbing the instant ache in my neck, and took a seat.
“Listen, Mac, here is the situation. This team we’re looking to recruit a new coach for is in serious need of someone with a strong hand. They’re out of control, and I believe the quarterback, Josh McEvans, is the source of all the issues and negative media attention.”
“McEvans? Roger McEvans’s son? The NFL player?”
I nodded. “The one and only.”
“Lost out on the Heisman Trophy because he couldn’t grow up.”
“Well, he still hasn’t.”
Mac rubbed his chin. “He’s got talent.”
“A lot of it,” Kendall added. “We simply need to refocus his energy to the right places.”
“We need to kick his ass into gear is what we need to do,” I added.
“Drop him to second string?” Mac asked.
“That’s what I was thinking.”
Mac replied, “If you do that for a few games, it will make him sit and think. You got a decent second string you could throw in?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Kendall and I spoke at the same time and then glanced at one another.
“You think McBride can start as the quarterback?” She nearly laughed at the suggestion. “I don’t think so. His arm isn’t strong enough to last an entire game, and his reaction under stress needs improvement.”
I fought to hold back my frustration. She might be good at running the ins and outs of the business side of this team, but she hired me to help with the players. “Kendall, this is why you brought me on. Just let me do my job.”
Her eyes turned dark.
“I understand you have extensive knowledge of football, Mr. Owens. As do I.”
I was not going to do this with her now. Not right now.
“I’m aware of your knowledge of football... Ms. Wales.”
Mac cleared his throat, drawing our focus back to him.
“Listen, like I told you on the phone, Hunter, I’ve been coaching high school football for twenty years and I was going to retire after this year. What makes you think I’m the coach you need?”
I smiled and began to reply, but Kendall beat me to it.
“Coach White, we need someone who has the ability to take my team to the next level. The talent is there. It’s proper motivation we’re lacking, which means leadership. The team currently consists of grown men acting like a bunch of twelve-year-old boys. I need a coach who is willing to step in and focus on this team. I hadn’t realized you were ready to retire. We need a long-term solution. So, if that’s the case, there’s no reason to waste each other’s time.”
I stared at Kendall in disbelief. For someone who wan
ted the new coach to like her, she was not starting off on the right foot.
Mac leaned forward and smiled. “Ms. Wales, I appreciate your candor, I truly do, but with all due respect, I haven’t spoken a word to you before five minutes ago when you walked into my office. As I was saying, I was ready to retire seeing as I had taken Franklin High to five straight state championships and was becoming somewhat bored with my job. I’m up for an adventure and think this could be something I could see myself doing. What I wanted to know from Hunter is what he thinks I can do for the team.”
Kendall lifted her chin and nodded before turning to me and waiting for my response.
Fucking hell. It was going to be a long drive back to Bowling Green.
“Mac, it is because of those five straight championships I believe you’re the perfect man for the job. I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll get these idiots back on track and focused on what they’re being paid to do, which is play football. Win games. You are what the Mustangs need.”
Mac leaned back in his chair and studied us both. “Are you interviewing any other coaches?”
“I have a list. You were first, and I’m hoping last, on it.”
He stood. “Come on, let me show you around, then make our way out to the field. Last two periods of the school day are athletics. You can get a taste of how I work.”
Kendall and I stood and followed Mac out of his office for the tour. Kendall kept a smile on her face, but I could see she was seething inside. When we finally got down to the field and took a seat on the bench, she let loose on me.
“You lied to me.”
“How do you figure?”
“You neglected to tell me you knew this coach.”
I took a drink of water. “And how exactly is that lying, Kendall?”
She sighed. “You made me look like a fool in front of our potential new coach.”
“You did that all by yourself, sweetheart.”
“Do not call me sweetheart.”
Turning to face her, I set the water bottle down. “Listen, Boardroom Kendall came out and you tried a different play. This is football, Kendall, and, yes, I get it, your daddy owns an NFL team. But when you’re sitting in a coach’s office, it is not the same thing as sitting in a boardroom full of uptight stiff shirts. It’s one thing to know what the play is, it’s another to know when to call the play. Was it my mistake to not tell you I knew Mac? Yes. Honestly, I didn’t even think about it. You were the one who decided to come at the last minute.”
Her face turned red. Damn if watching her get pissed off wasn’t the hottest thing ever.
“You’re blaming me?”
“If the expensive high-heeled shoe fits.”
Kendall’s mouth dropped open and then snapped shut.
“You better find another way home, Hunter Owens, because I refuse to sit in a car with you.”
I laughed. “Wow. Why don’t you stand and stomp your foot while you’re throwing your temper tantrum?”
Her eyes widened, and I knew she was about to unleash the tenth circle of hell on me, but the whistle blew and snapped her out of it. She turned and focused on the practice.
With a smirk, I mumbled, “Saved by the whistle.”
Silence filled the car as Kendall drove away from the high school. The tension had gotten to the point where I couldn’t take another moment of it.
“Kendall, you cannot control everything.”
Her head snapped toward me. I was ready for the onslaught, but it never came. Instead, she quickly jerked the wheel and pulled into a gas station. She drove up to a pump, got out, and slammed the door shut before she stalked into the gas station.
Getting out, I called after her, “I’ll get the gas!”
Five minutes later, Kendall was walking out, a frown on her face.
Did she go in there to hide from me?
“Did you buy me any more snacks?”
She tossed me the keys and said, “I have a headache; you drive.”
Thank fuck. Now we could at least make good time.
After climbing into the driver’s seat, I went to start the car but all it did was click.
“Great! Just great. What did you do to my car?” Kendall cried out.
“I didn’t do anything to your damn car.”
“Then why is it not starting?”
Sighing, I pulled the latch to pop the hood and got out of the car. It had to be the battery.
When I looked closely, the cables were clean.
“Shit,” I mumbled. Glancing around, I saw a small mechanic shop next to the gas station.
I shut the hood and opened the driver’s door. “I need you to get in and put it in neutral while I push the car over to that mechanic shop.”
Kendall looked across the parking lot and then back to me.
“By yourself? You’re going to push the car by yourself?”
I winked. “Are you worried about me, sweetheart?”
Her lip curled. “Hardly. I hope a tire runs over your foot.”
“That will be hard since I’ll be behind the car, pushing.”
“This is all your fault!” she declared as she crawled into the driver’s seat and put her SUV in neutral.
“Is it in neutral?” I called out.
“Yes!”
I started to push. Thank fuck it sloped downhill. The car started to move easily, and then quickly it became harder. Straining to push it, I called out, “Is your foot off the brake?”
“Oh... it is now. Sorry!”
“Jesus freaking hell. Who hates me up there?”
Once we finally got it over to the shop and the mechanic tried jumping the battery, it became clear we would not be getting back to Bowling Green that evening. Especially when the mechanic kept rubbing his chin and repeating, “We’ve got a problem here.”
With a deep breath in, I looked at the man. He had to be in his midthirties. Looked like he hadn’t seen a trip to the dentist in the last ten years.
“Solenoid is out on the starter. I’m fixin’ to close up in five minutes, but it looks like I can get to this tomorrow. I’ll have to drive on over to the next town, pick up the part, and then drive back. Shouldn’t take but an hour to fix it.”
Kendall stared at the man like he had grown two heads.
“You can’t fix it tonight? I will pay extra to have this fixed tonight.”
“No, ma’am. Like I said, I’m fixin’ to close the shop, and I’ve got to be at my mama’s for dinner. I’ll get on the road early in the morning. The next town is only ’bout fifteen minutes each way. I figure I can have you on the road by ten.”
“Ten? Tomorrow morning?”
Kendall looked ready to take her high-heeled shoe off and stab the guy in the neck. I stood between her and the innocent mechanic. It was odd to see Kendall unraveling like this. If there was anything you could count on Kendall being, in control was it, and this was off for her.
“That’s fine, Roy. Your name is Roy, right?” It was a guess, but I figured since the shop was called Roy’s Mechanic Shop, it was worth a shot.
“Yes, sir. Now, y’all can find you a room over at Ms. Pratt’s. It’s one of the nicer hotels in town.”
Kendall started to mumble something under her breath while pacing back and forth.
“Thanks, Roy. Let us grab some things out of the car, and then we’ll be back around ten in the morning.”
“Maybe make it eleven. Mama might be making biscuits and gravy in the morning.”
Kendall started at a fast pace for the guy, fury written all over her face. “Are you kid—”
I grabbed her by the waist and spun her away from him. “Kendall, get your briefcase and purse out of the car and wait over there.”
She growled at me.
I faced Roy. “Here’s hoping Ms. Pratt has two rooms on two different floors.”
“You best sleep with one eye open. She looks like she’s ready to bury you in a field.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I grinne
d. She indeed looked to be plotting my death.
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” I said with a wave.
With my duffel bag in hand, we headed down the street to find Ms. Pratt’s. Once we found it, Kendall paused outside and stared at it. The hotel was an old white rustic house that had seen better days. It actually reminded me of something out of a horror movie.
“This is the nicest hotel in town? I feel like I’m looking at something from a Stephen King movie.”
I was glad I wasn’t the only one who’d thought that. I shrugged. “It’s charming.”
“Charming? Really, Hunter?”
“Come on. I’m hungry and tired. Let’s check in and then go find something to eat.”
We stepped into the foyer turned front desk area. Kendall rang the bell, and a black cat jumped up and greeted us. I reached out to pet it while Kendall jumped back and gave a little yelp, clearly at the end of her rope.
“Welcome! How can I help y’all?” an older woman with white hair asked as she picked up the cat and set it on the floor.
Kendall cleared her throat and said, “We need two rooms, please. Preferably very far from one another.”
I grinned when the old woman looked at me and then back to Kendall. “Well, I only have one room available. It’s the honeymoon room.”
Turning to face me, Kendall said, “We’re going to have to find another place to stay.”
“Oh, you won’t be finding any rooms tonight. It’s our annual Kentucky Bourbon festival. There aren’t no rooms left in town. The only reason I’ve got the honeymoon room is because Bobby Joe and his ex-fiancée, Petra, decided to call off the wedding on account of Bobby Joe cheated on Petra with her best friend Clarice.
Kendall stared at the woman and then laughed. “You’re kidding. Right? I feel like I’m being pranked. Or this is a bad dream. The entire day is just a nightmare. Maybe I’ll wake up any minute in my bed, safe and sound.”
“No, everyone in town was talkin’ ’bout it.”
With a sigh, Kendall replied, “No, I mean about the rooms. Please tell me there is something else available. Anything.”
Play Me Page 8
