With that he was gone, and Salem had a feeling that if she allowed this relationship to go further there would be plenty more days in her future of sitting in just such a venue watching him coach. And would that be such a bad thing?
She sighed and entered the little room. Not a bad thing at all.
Lord help her. She really hoped she wasn’t setting her heart up to be crushed.
Jett paused outside the locker room and took a breath. Thankfulness still coursed through him that Salem had been more than reasonable about the little debacle that had taken place upstairs. He felt grateful not to have the additional weight of trying to coach while knowing Salem was still angry. He was under enough pressure today.
He closed his eyes and shook out his arms, willing himself to relax. He needed to portray calm, assurance, and leadership in there. One glimmer of uncertainty and the players were going to eat him alive. The problem? Uncertainty was just about all he felt at the moment. He’d never seen himself as a coach. Could he do this? Would he be able to clearly articulate to his offense what he wanted them to do? He wasn’t worried about being able to see and call the plays needed. That had been part of his job from the first moment he’d taken the field in high school. It was communicating what he saw to high schoolers—who had put in hours and hours of practice and tryouts to make these teams and participate in this fundraiser—that he worried about.
His father’s words on the phone the other day came back to him. God was not surprised by this like we were, son.
Jett eased out a breath. “Okay, God. I’m trying to just put one foot in front of the other here and see where You are leading me. Just don’t let me walk off a cliff, alright?” He pushed through the doors, still praying. Help me to communicate clearly, and to connect with the boys quickly.
Jerry was across the room, and Jett worked his way through the players to his side.
As soon as Jerry noticed him, he gave a loud piercing whistle that brought the room to silence. “Alright boys, listen up. This here is Coach Hudson. Many of you may recognize him. He played quarterback for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers for the past several years, and really understands the game.”
A curse of awe rang out from the back of the room.
Jerry lowered his clipboard and pegged the offender with a look. “Bugsy, what have I told you about your language?”
The boy hung his head. “Sorry, coach. It’s just”—he lifted excited scrutiny to Jett—“he’s one of the greats, man! I still can’t believe I’m here.”
Jerry thrust an iPad into Jett’s hands, but kept his attention on the boy at the back of the room. “Believe it. Now drop and give me twenty.”
“Yessir.” The kid lowered himself into pushup position.
“Good.” Jerry scanned the rest of his players. “Coach Hudson knows all the plays, and I expect you all to give him the respect a coach deserves. He’s filling in for Coach Fitzharris who, as you may know, had to have emergency heart surgery a few weeks back. So helmets off and we’re going to say a quick prayer for him before we hit the field.”
Jerry’s prayer was short but heartfelt, and the moment he said “amen,” the boys burst into exuberant exclamations as they headed toward the sidelines.
Jerry grinned at Jett. “You have no idea how much progress it is that they stayed quiet during the prayer itself.”
Jett chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve brought them a long way.”
He watched the last of the boys snatch up their helmets and trot out the locker room door, faces all alight with the sparkle of anticipation. And it was in that moment that a surge of anticipation overtook him. He was looking forward to this. He hadn’t been sure how it would make him feel to be back in a locker room once again yet know he wouldn’t be one of the players taking the field. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d been dreading it until he’d been standing outside that door. But now….
He glanced down, willing himself to maintain a control on his emotions. It was all going to be okay. Playing football had been his life. Now that part of his life was over. But it didn’t mean his entire life was over.
He thought of Salem, seated practically above his head at this very moment, waiting to watch the game.
No, life was definitely not over. There would be good in his future. He just had to keep trusting God.
He angled a glance at the ceiling. Thank you.
And with that he followed the team out onto the field.
Salem loosed a whoop and leapt out of her seat, nearly sending the Coke in her cupholder flying. Jett and Jerry’s Mavericks had just scored the go-ahead touchdown with thirty seconds left in the game. Now if the kicker could put the ball through the uprights they would have a four-point lead and the other team would need to score a touchdown to win.
She held her breath as the ball was snapped. The kicker connected solidly and no one from the other team was even close to blocking it. The ball sailed cleanly through the uprights.
“Yes!” Beside Salem, Jerry’s wife, Misty, and their two kids bounced in a huddled circle of excitement.
None of them sat down. Anticipation of the win hummed through Salem’s veins. She clutched her hands beneath her chin and bounced on the balls of her feet as the other team, the Knights, counted down their snap and lurched into motion.
One Knight receiver broke free and cut at an angle across the field behind all the defenders.
“Watch him!” Salem yelled, as though the Mavericks might be able to hear her.
The Knight quarterback let the ball fly in a high, perfectly placed arc.
The receiver caught the ball, tucked it under his arm and sprinted toward the end zone with one of the Mavericks right on his heels.
“Get him! Get him!” Salem jumped up and down.
But to no avail. The runner crossed into the end zone, and a whoop surged up from the crowd, half groan from the Maverick fans and half exultation from the Knight fans.
Salem slumped into her seat, glancing over just in time to see Jerry’s family do the same. The game was over and Jett’s team had lost. Her heart ached for him. She knew it had taken a good amount of courage for him to even be here today. And if it wasn’t for the good cause and the fact that Jerry was his friend from his college football days, she wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t have been able to make himself do it.
She’d so hoped he would get a win that would encourage him. That maybe coaching would be a key step toward the path of his future. But now…how would he be feeling after this loss?
Below her, fans were trickling from the stands. Many of them would be heading to the banquet fundraiser that Rose had organized to immediately follow the game. This really was a brilliant fundraiser for D.I.M.E.S. They would make money from the sale of tickets to watch the game as well as from the donations that followed at the banquet.
Misty bid her farewell, saying she needed to get the kids to a cousin’s birthday party but that she would see her later at the banquet, and with that Salem was left alone in the box.
Thoughts about the banquet reminded her she’d better get changed. She’d seen her bag of hanging clothes in the tiny closet in the bathroom. She should take advantage of this time so that Jett didn’t have to wait for her once he got up here.
Salem stepped into the bathroom and pulled her dress from the hanging bag. While she changed, she put her mind to praying for Jett. Hard as it had been not to get the job she’d really wanted, at least she hadn’t been doing that job for several years and then had it yanked out from under her without notice. She couldn’t imagine what Jett must be feeling. For some reason, watching the game with him pacing the sidelines below her had really helped her to see just what he had lost. At one point, a Mavericks’ player had gotten the wind knocked out of him and Jett had been the first one to his side, empathy in every movement he made.
Lord, after all he’s lost, I was really hoping for a win today. Don’t let him be too discouraged. Help him to keep his eyes on Y
ou and to remember that You have his future firmly in Your hands.
It only took her a few minutes to change into her dress and scoop her hair into a quick updo. She freshened her makeup and had just finished putting her other outfit into the hanging bag when she heard a soft knock on the outer box door.
“Come in.” She stepped out of the bathroom just as he stepped through the door, putting them face to face.
Jett’s gaze traveled the length of her, and his brows lifted appreciatively. “Wow.”
Salem felt her face flush as she smoothed a nervous hand over the lace at her hip. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond, so she chose to ignore him and commented instead, “I’m really sorry about the game.”
He stepped closer and tilted his head, lowering his voice. His eyes were soft and full of emotion. “I’d be willing to lose every game for the rest of time, if I could look forward to seeing you all dressed up and in a private box after each one.”
Her stomach did a slow curl, and she angled him a look. “Now you’re just putting on the charm.” The words were much softer and more gravelly than she’d intended them to be.
“No ma’am”—he drawled the words, long and slow, mimicking a rather poor Southern accent as he lifted two fingers in a Scout salute—“Scout’s honor I ain’t speaking nothin’ but the truth.”
She poked him in the chest with a laugh. “Right.”
He captured her hand and held it gently against his shirt, his expression losing all traces of humor. “I mean it.” His gaze roved her face.
She swallowed. Her focus slipped to his lips, and she wondered briefly what his reaction would be if she gave in to the desire to lift up on her tiptoes and kiss him leisurely. Her breath hitched, and she felt a tremor work its way through her.
Slowly, he released her fingers and slid his hand behind her back. He leaned forward, his intentions clear as his gaze dipped to her mouth.
Salem’s heart thundered in her chest. She wanted this, but at the same time the fact that he was leaving for Florida tomorrow fought for preeminence in her thoughts. “Jett.” She whispered his name, lifting one finger to stop his forward momentum just before his lips connected with hers.
He froze, his shoulders slumping slightly.
His eyes were so close it was hard to focus. She pulled back just enough so that she could see him clearly. “What do you want? Really and truly want? Do you want Florida and whatever future you might have there? Or do you want…this? Because I just—”
“No. It’s okay. You’re right.” His hands swept a caress along her arms. “I’m not being fair to you. I’ve been praying, but I still don’t feel like I have a concrete answer.” He touched her cheek with the knuckles of one hand. “I care about you. I honestly don’t want to hurt you.” He grinned sheepishly. “It’s just… When I saw you… Do you think you could wear a paper bag over your head for the rest of the evening? Maybe a full length gunnysack, too?”
She laughed. “Jett…”
He stepped away from her then, but his gaze traversed the length of her once more. He swallowed visibly. “I’m serious, woman. Sheesh.”
She pointed purposefully toward the bathroom where his tux still hung in the garment bag. “We are going to be late for the banquet if you don’t hurry up and get changed.”
With one last wink, he disappeared behind the closed door.
Salem laid one hand over the pounding of her heart.
Forced herself to take a breath.
Reminded herself that the last man in her life had given her a diet plan he wanted her to start on two weeks into their relationship, and that his birthday gifts to her during the years they had dated had routinely been to tanning salons or beauty parlors—and not because that was where she wanted to go, but because that was where he felt she needed to go.
And yet… She couldn’t really see Jett ever doing any of those things. In the month that she’d known him, he’d been nothing but considerate and supportive.
Still… No matter how much he said he cared, he still planned to return to Florida tomorrow. So he couldn’t be too serious about her, right?
She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Why did she never learn?
Come Sunday when he drove out of her lot, her heart was going to shatter into a zillion pieces, despite all the effort she’d put into trying to prevent it.
CHAPTER 17
Jett made quick work of donning the tux and then, after depositing the garment bag back in his truck, he ushered Salem across the street from the stadium to the convention center reserved for the banquet. Her heels clicked smartly on the pavement as they crossed the crosswalk, and he tried not to think too long about how much he liked having her at his side.
He pulled the glass doors to the convention center open and stepped back to allow her to enter before him. After the long walk through cement corridors and across the paved street, the carpet felt plush and soft beneath their feet.
Salem was already drawing the eyes of several of the men who stood chatting in the foyer. Ah ah, boys. He stepped closer to her and settled his hand to her back on the pretense of nudging her toward the double doors ahead. If any of these boys were smart, they should get his message, loud and clear. He doubted any of them would be smart.
Rose Atwood stood just inside the doors and greeted them with a huge smile on her face. She ought to be smiling. This fundraiser was going to do wonders for her bottom line. He was glad he’d gotten to be part of it.
“I’ve put you two at a table toward the front with Jerry and Misty.” Rose pointed them in the right direction.
As Jett angled through the tables in Salem’s wake, he pondered his afternoon. He’d worried a lot about this coaching opportunity. Not because he didn’t love football, but because he feared that his love of the game only extended as far as playing. But man, when Bugsy had executed that last offensive drive to perfection and put them ahead…he’d felt a thrill just as great as any thrill he’d ever felt on the field himself. Despite the loss, he’d come away from the game with renewed hope. Maybe his life in football wouldn’t be over after all. He could go back home and be happy taking that high school coaching job, couldn’t he? Maybe even coach for a college one day?
“This looks like us.” Salem indicated the place cards on the table before them.
Jett pulled out her chair, a lump of angst forming in his stomach. Go back home. He studied the side of Salem’s face as he settled into his own chair. Going back home would of course mean leaving her and this newfound…relationship…behind. Could he do that?
To their left at the round table, Jerry smiled at them. The empty chair by his side indicated that his wife wasn’t here yet. But he took a moment to introduce them to several of the other assistant coaches who had helped out the Mavericks tonight.
Jett smiled and shook each of their hands, but his mind was still on the quandary he’d raised for himself. Salem’s perfume wafted over to tantalize his senses.
He swallowed. Wasn’t he allowing her a bigger piece of his heart than was prudent this early on in the relationship? He snapped open his napkin and draped it over one leg. Would she come with him? If he asked her? He thought of Gran and clenched his teeth. No. She most definitely wouldn’t abandon her grandmother to move to Florida.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” The emcee, a brunette in a slinky metallic dress, smiled down from the stage. “It’s such a pleasure to have each of you here with us this evening. D.I.M.E.S, is such a wonderful outreach into this community, and I’m going to ask you all to dig out your pocketbooks and be generous tonight. You should each have a salad already on the table before you, and while you eat that, I’m going to ask our amazing tech guru, Ronny there at the back, to play our first video of the evening.
The lights dimmed, but candles at each table gave off enough light to eat by.
The video showed the inner streets of Seattle. Several children played basketball on a run-down court with a hoop that was ba
rely standing. The voice-over talked about how children in that neighborhood had been sorely in need of a court and coaches to encourage children who had a lot of talent, but not a lot of opportunity. The screen folded over to reveal what the area looked like today after D.I.M.E.S. had gone in and revamped the area. They’d built a fenced in-court and hired two coaches to put together basketball teams. A third team was being added, and gang statistics for that neighborhood had gone down slightly. The video ended with a close-up of a group of laughing teen boys, joshing and jostling each other.
When the lights came up, Salem’s eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. She blinked a few times and gave her attention to the salad she apparently hadn’t touched during the presentation.
Jett had the urge to place a comforting hand to the back of her neck and give her a momentary squeeze, but considering the thoughts he’d been pondering only moments ago, combined with her request that he make a decision before making any more advances, he thrust his fingers beneath his thighs instead. That way he’d at least have a momentary delay to think about his actions before he reached out to touch her on impulse.
The rest of the dinner was more of the same. Between courses, they watched several more videos that shared stories of how neighborhoods had been impacted by D.I.M.E.S. and each time the emcee offered the attendees an opportunity to donate. There was a tablet and card reader on each table, and the emcee jokingly pitted the members at each table against each other, prodding them not to let another attendee out-give them.
Finally, the dinner portion of the night came to a close.
The emcee took the microphone one last time. “I want to thank all of you who have so generously donated to this great cause tonight. And now I’m going to quit hounding you to part with your hard-earned cash and give you a chance to simply relax and enjoy the rest of the evening. If you decide at some point throughout the night that you would like to donate more, there are attendants throughout the room who will have a tablet and card reader. You’ve only got to raise your hand and one of them will be right with you. Pick your partner, ladies and gentlemen! Let’s dance the night away.”
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