False Start (The McKay-Tucker Men Series Book 1)

by Marianne Rice

  “Don’t be so modest. You’re the best guy out there.”

  He ignored the compliment. “Greg, this is Meg Fulton. Meg, Greg Randolph. He was my peewee football coach back in the day.”

  “And always finds the best ladies too.” Greg picked up Meg’s hand and kissed it as if she were royalty. Without taking his smiling gaze off her, he spoke to Connor, “What the hell does this fine lady see in the likes of you? Run away with me, Meg. I cook a fine breakfast and will treat you better than this old boy.”

  Connor laughed. “How’s Marie? Did she come tonight?”

  “Like she’d miss a chance to hang out with her favorite boy. We found seats at your table.” He winked and looped his arm through Meg’s, leading her to one of the tables up front. He was stronger than he looked and fit the part of the flirty old man quite well. She liked him instantly. “Connor here is like the son we never had. Four girls. Tried to marry one off on Connor, but the good-for-nothing’ chump thought he was too good for her.”

  Meg scowled at Connor.

  “His youngest, Janie is eight years older than me,” he whispered in her ear. The soft air from his mouth and light brush of his lips sent shockwaves of goosebumps down her arms. The fresh scent of soap and something unfamiliar—man?—filled the air.

  “But here I am carrying on like he’s the man of the hour when really I want to know more about the lovely angel on my arm.” Greg patted her hand and beamed friendly brown eyes down at her.

  Before she had time to utter a word, a woman who appeared to be in her late sixties stood and wrapped Connor in a bear hug. He lifted her off her feet and kissed her smack on the lips.

  “Why Marie, you haven’t changed a bit. Still kiss like the goddess you are.”

  “Ah, sugar, we missed you. How’s your family?”

  So he did have a family. And he was becoming more human by the minute. Connor pulled out a chair for Marie and then gestured to Meg to sit next to her. He placed himself to her left and she felt his gaze linger on her bare shoulder.

  “Great. Mom and Pop are hoping to retire soon, but I can’t imagine that happening.”

  “Send them my love, will you? We don’t make our way up to Newhall enough. Sure do miss everyone.” Marie smiled affectionately at Greg in a loving, knowing manner, a moment Meg hoped she’d be able to share someday with a husband. If she could ever get over her fear of being alone with a man. “Now, listen to me gibbering on. No manners to speak of. I’m Marie.” She stretched out her arms and hugged Meg.

  “Nice to meet you, Marie. I’m Meg.”

  “And how did you come across my sugar here?” Marie winked at Connor. “A fine catch he is.”

  “No, it’s not like that. He is…uh, I’m his…I’m the principal at Newhall High.”

  “Ah,” Greg said, winking at Connor. “Going for the boss, eh?”

  “No! I mean, no, I came tonight as a representative from the school. We’re not…I’m not…it’s only business.”

  “Sure, dear,” Greg said as he patted Meg’s hand. “Just a business meeting.” He kissed his wife on her cheek and sat down on the other side of her.

  Meg looked to Connor for backup, but he sat silently sipping his beer. Grinning of course, his simple, sexy little grin that offset his laugh lines and made his baby blues twinkle. She picked up her wineglass, which magically appeared while she was talking with Marie, and sipped away her dignity.

  Dinner was probably delicious, but Meg had been too nervous to taste the food. Small talk at the table brought many laughs and heartwarming smiles. The Randolphs had fond memories of Connor in peewee football and high school days. When they started to talk about his college career, Connor cut them off and changed the subject to his current high school team. When his previous nomination came up, he did the same. There were pieces of his past he obviously didn’t want Meg to hear. Why, she wasn’t sure, but it only made her more curious. The Randolphs picked up on the unspoken message and followed along Connor’s guidelines keeping the conversation light and flowing.

  “And what about you, dear? Where are you from?”

  Meg took another sip of water and played with her strawberry shortcake. “The Boston area.” No need to mention she grew up in Manchester. She cut all her ties to the city years ago, and she had no desire to ever mend them.

  “And what is your family like?”

  “My parents died when I was young. It’s just my grandparents and my daughter,” she said softly and then excused herself to the ladies' room.

  Her short reply and abrupt departure to the restroom made it clear she’d like to keep her personal life private. Thankfully they didn’t ask any more personal questions when she returned.

  After a slide show of the three nominees—which bellowed a heartwarming Kenny Chesney song—and speeches made by television and newspaper journalists who followed the coaches and teams, the coach of the year award was given to Connor McKay. He stood modestly and smiled. Marie kissed him on the cheek and Greg gave him a hug. He turned to Meg and she stared back, nervous he might kiss her, nervous he might not.

  Instead, he turned and stepped up to the podium to accept his award. After the typical thank you to his assistant coaches and exemplary players, he added one final thought.

  “This year my buttons got pushed when someone showed me it’s not only about the game but about molding and sculpting individuals into life-long learners. It’s about teaching them the skills so they can fight, work, and play on their own. So they have a chance at a future.”

  She didn’t hear the rest of his speech. Too shocked at his words, at his sincerity, she never expected him to acknowledge her, albeit subtly, much less thank her. Meg dabbed her eyes, no she didn’t have an emotional connection to Connor, just a bit sentimental because one of her staff members had won an honorable award.

  When Connor returned to his seat, he didn’t look at Meg, and she avoided conversation by sipping her water. Thankfully flocks of reporters, friends, and acquaintances swarmed around and congratulated him. Avoiding conversation with the media and fellow coaches, she clung to Marie and asked about her family. It wasn’t a ploy; the Randolphs were kind. She loved hearing the pride in their voices when they talked about their daughters and grandchildren.

  Nearly an hour later, on her way back from the ladies' room, Connor sneaked up behind her and whispered in her ear. “You ready to head back home?”

  She flushed at the feel of his breath on her neck and nodded. They said their goodbyes to Greg and Marie and left the banquet hall. The night turned extremely brisk and Meg wished she hadn’t been so hot and bothered by Connor earlier and remembered her coat. No sooner had the thought entered her mind then she felt the weight and warmth of Connor’s suit coat around her shoulders.

  “Thanks.” She pulled the coat closer around her body and breathed in his scent. Clean. Not too musky. Warm and refreshing. The fancy Audi didn’t take long to warm up—must be why they cost so much—and in minutes, the open turnpike lay ahead of them, Manchester and all its haunting memories behind.

  “You’ve heard it a hundred times, but congratulations. I don’t know much, really anything, about the other guys, but I’d say you were definitely deserving.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you going to tell me what the scandal was all about?”

  His jaw tensed and his hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I’m sure you’ve heard rumors.”

  “Honestly, no. You evaded the conversation anytime anyone brought up your last nomination.”

  Connor sighed and relaxed his grip on the wheel. “I was nominated four years ago.”

  “And that’s scandalous?”

  “No, I shouldn’t have been nominated at all. We had a losing season and I…let’s just say I was a little arrogant. Shocking, I know.”

  “You don’t have to win the state championship to be deserving of a coach’s award.”

  “Gee, you sound like you’re defending me. I wish I had this on came
ra.”

  Meg turned and smiled at him. “You’re uncomfortable talking about this. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you embarrassed before.” She liked that he had a weakness. It proved her test-tube theory wrong. Granted she had no idea what was so scandalous, but she enjoyed watching him squirm.

  “That year I brought my family, some of my players, and my coaches to the banquet. I was pretty sure I was a shoe-in for the win, not that I would admit it meant much to me, a measly high school coaching award. And I may have been a bit…cocky about it. Anyway, a few guys at the banquet, including me, had a little too much to drink. They were pissed I was nominated my first year back and said it was because of my name and not my performance. At least not on the Newhall High field. I roughed up a few guys who were twice my age and thirty pounds lighter.”

  “Your name?” she snorted. “Sorry to break it to you, McKay, but they’re right. Being a hot shot around Newhall isn’t much to brag about.”

  He didn’t say a word but eyed her questioningly, raising a disbelieving brow. “You don’t know about my life before I came to NHS?”

  She tensed. “I don’t make it a habit of snooping in the personnel files of my staff. Is there something I should be aware of? Do you have a record?”

  The boyish grin reappeared and his mood lifted which quickly calmed her nerves. “No record. Well, not that kind.”

  Understanding the conversation was over, she moved on. “I really liked Greg and Marie. I didn’t want to be rude and ask them, but why did they move away from Newhall? It sounded like they had so many wonderful friends and memories.”

  “Lisa, their oldest daughter lives down here. She lost her husband a few years ago in Iraq, and she and the kids had a hard time dealing. Greg and Marie moved down here to be with the kids while Lisa works. It’s been hard on all of them, but Lisa is finally moving on.”

  “How awful. But wonderful to have such loving and devoted parents.”

  Meg watched the city lights disappear as they headed north toward the country. The memories of her parents more distant with each passing year. It became more and more difficult to remember what they looked like. If she didn’t have the few pictures of them, she knew their faces would be forgotten. She could still picture the news coverage of the airplane crash that killed her parents when she was five. Thankfully she had Gram and Gramps. While her upbringing was unconventional and old-fashioned, at least she had the love and support of her grandparents. They meant well, even if life didn’t work out as planned.

  “So is Emma’s father still in the mix?”

  His question caught her off guard. “No.” She toyed with her bracelet as she looked out into the ebony sky.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to bring up a—”

  “Just forget about it, okay?”

  They drove in silence for the remainder of the trip and Meg stifled a yawn as she forced herself to stay awake. But the comfort of the leather seat, the protective feeling of Connor’s coat around her body and the lull of the easy listening tunes on the radio made it more and more difficult to stay awake. For the first time in…ever, she felt safe with a man.

  Chapter 6

  Having to face the girl you went out with after a bad date sucked.

  Having her as your boss really sucked.

  Kissing her and then having her freak out and stare at you like you were a monster really, really sucked.

  Connor felt like shit, and he didn’t even know why. She had looked so sweet sleeping in his car.

  Her soft face turned toward him, her lips slightly open. He’d wanted to pull over and take her right then and there in the passenger seat of his car, but he didn’t think his incredibly sexy boss would be impressed.

  Instead, he’d pulled up to her house, turned off the car and waited for her to wake. When she didn’t respond to his gentle nudges, he’d kissed her. Her supple lips were so inviting. And she kissed him back. Okay, maybe she’d been sleeping and didn’t realize exactly what she was doing, but she moaned. She moaned and, though completely turned on, he restrained himself. So why did she freak out? She’d freaked. Screamed like he was some monster and ran into her house, refusing to open the door or explain her reaction. After having a one-sided conversation with her front door, he got back in his car and left. He had checked his breath a few miles before reaching her place and even popped a breath mint before waking her up. What the hell went wrong?

  The woman remained a mystery. She drove him nuts and wild. She was domineering and a bit conceited, yet she had a soft, caring, even vulnerable side to her. Typically Connor went for the easy-to-read bimbo who was good for a night out and a roll in the sack. No strings. No commitments. He’d had a high-maintenance chick once and that didn’t work out so well.

  Mustering up as much courage—since when did he have to muster courage?—as he could find, he opened the door to the main office and greeted Barbara.

  “Morning, beautiful. The boss in?”

  “Good morning, Connor. Congratulations on your win. We knew this was your year.” She stood up and hugged him and quickly sat back in her chair, a little red escaping her cheeks. “Ms. Fulton just got back from a meeting and has a parent conference in ten minutes.”

  “Thanks.” He strolled past the secretary’s desk and tapped on Meg’s open door. She looked up from the file she was reading and quickly took off her glasses.

  “McKay. Good morning. What can I do for you? I have a meeting in a few minutes so I really don’t have time right now.” She stood, all business-like, closed the file, and put it on top of her closed laptop.

  Damn she was pretty. Her hair pulled up out of her face—he liked the sexy flowing hair better, but the professional look was better for his libido—and her navy suit tailored to reflect business, but also flashed woman.

  “I wanted to thank you for coming along Friday night.” No, he wanted to talk about the kiss that went wrong but bringing it up with Barbara’s ultrasonic hearing would not go over so well.

  “Sure. No problem. Just doing my job.” She pulled the strap to her briefcase over her shoulder and made it clear she was leaving her office. Only Connor didn’t budge. They stood facing each other in her doorway. The citrus smell of her shampoo filled the air and brought back the sensation of touching her silky hair and taste of her sweet lips.

  She was nervous. He could tell by the way she kept adjusting the lapels on her jacket and tucking imaginary stray hairs behind her ears. Not wanting to frighten her, but needing to show her he meant no disrespect, he smiled. And not the boyish grin he used to work himself out of all sorts of jams, or into a woman’s bed, but a sincere, honest to goodness smile.

  “Okay, then. See ya around.” He turned and nearly stomped out of the office and down the hallway to his classroom, wondering why this woman who hated him, flirted with him, and feared him, had such an effect on him.

  * * * *

  “It’ll be fun. Come on. You’ll see us in a whole new light,” Annie teased as she made herself comfortable in Meg’s office chair.

  Meg laughed. “And you think that’s the line to use to get me to go out to a bar with my staff?”

  “We’ve been going to Martha’s once a month for the last…gosh, I don’t know how long, at least ten, twelve years.”

  “I’m not really part of your crowd.”

  “Crowd? Honey, everyone is invited. While a large part of the Friday afternoon cliental may be teachers, it’s not like we have a secret club. The whole staff knows about Friday afternoons at Martha’s. Always a different mix of people there.”

  Meg played with the small sapphire ring on her right hand. “I guess I’ll stop by for one drink.”

  Annie’s round, pudgy cheeks widened. “Awesome! Grab your purse. You can follow me.”

  Not giving her much of a choice, Meg locked up her office and followed Annie to the parking lot. It pleased her that she was making friends, well a friend, and was invited into the social circle, but she also feared rejection. What if the t
eachers resented her being there? Who wanted to hang out with the school principal?

  Friday being casual day, Meg wore navy slacks and a cream-colored cashmere sweater. At least I’m not wearing a suit. She drove by the bar on her way home from school and often recognized the cars in the parking lot, but socializing was never her specialty. She tried that once and had been reaping the consequences ever since.

  Nervous, she got out of her practical sedan and tugged at the hem of her sweater, while Annie finished a call on her cell.

  A few moments later, Annie ended the call and tossed her phone in her purse before climbing out of her car. “Our girls have formed quite the friendship. Emma’s at Paige’s apartment and they’re getting dolled up for a double date.” She winked at Meg. “I think it might be a perfect margarita night for us.”

  The bar was not what she expected. Inside, the walls and floors were covered in clapboard, rustic but clean. Dark tin sconces and chandeliers dimmed the lighting and made for a relaxed atmosphere. Sports memorabilia lined the walls. From the Boston Red Sox to the Newhall High teams. Very local. Very New England. Very unlike Meg.

  Annie walked up to the large oak bar and made introductions. She gestured to the bartender. “Mandy, this is Meg. Meg, Mandy. She makes the meanest margaritas around.”

  “How about a pitcher,” Mandy stated rather than asked and began pouring the tequila before Annie could reply.

  “Perfect.”

  Minutes later, pitcher in hand, Meg followed Annie to the back of the bar. Loud laughter brought her attention to the back of the restaurant where she noticed four tables of her colleagues. They all turned to welcome the new arrivals and made extra noise when they saw Meg. Welcoming noise. They were actually pleased to see her.

  “Meg, next round’s on me,” shouted Bobby. He wasn’t someone she expected to find here. A physics teacher. Old school. He wore polyester and had a comb-over, the classic geek. He sat with Jeanne, the trendy librarian, Claire, the field hockey coach and math teacher, and Barbara. The next table held another eclectic mix of teachers.