“The boosters have graciously provided ice cream to be served in the cafeteria directly after the rally. So y’all be sure to wander in that direction.” He paused to take his hat off and revealed a dark wreath of hair. “A year and a half ago, when Coach Wilder passed away unexpectedly, we didn’t know what would become of our football program. We had some mighty fine assistant coaches, but none were fully prepared to take over the job of head coach. Then someone”—he looked over toward the bench of players—“I believe it was you, Joe, suggested that we ask a man who certainly knows his way around a football if he could step in and help us out.” The crowd whooped and hollered and stomped their feet. The bleachers shook, and Zach looked down at the floor between his boots. The bill of his hat hid the top half of his face and the shadow rested just above the bow of his top lip. “Now, let’s hear it for the man who’s gonna take us all the way to State! Coach Zzzz!”
The crowd grew even louder, chanting his name, buzzing the air with excitement. Zach stood, pulled his hat from his head, and tossed it on the bench. As his long legs carried him to the center of the gym, he combed his fingers through his blond hair.
“Okay, y’all. Settle down a minute,” he began, the epitome of cool under pressure. He grabbed the microphone and adjusted it to reflect his height. “First off, I’d like to thank y’all for coming out tonight and showing your support. I know it means a lot to the boys.” He placed his hands on his hips and rested his weight on one booted foot. “We’re all mighty happy to have Don suited up in his jersey tonight.” The gym broke out in wild applause, and he leaned forward, closer to the microphone.
“I just talked to his doctors this afternoon, and he’ll be ready to play next year. When we lost Don, people said we were done for the season, but I never believed that. Don is one hell of a player with a big future, but we have a lot of boys on this team who can play ball. Who come ready to play at every practice and give me 110 percent. Who come to the games and leave their blood on the field. I am proud of every one of those boys, and I want to thank all the mommas and daddies who raised them up right.” He straightened as the crowd filled the air with whoop whoops.
“I’m not gonna lie. Amarillo is a tough team, and they’re going to show up to win. Our boys are tough, too, and it’s goin’ to come down to who wants it more. I’m bettin’ we do. I’m bettin’ we have the heart, guts, and the glory to show those Amarillo boys how we play ball down here in Cedar Creek.” The crowd exploded, whooping and hollering and pounding the air with raised fists as if they were at a rock concert.
Zach turned his head and looked in Adele’s direction. Across the distance, his gaze skimmed past her only to return abruptly as if he was a magnet and she was a shiny piece of metal. He waited a few seconds for the noise to die down before he continued. “I know the boys will appreciate it if y’all can drive up to Lubbock tomorrow night and show your support.” He looked at the crowd in the seats above her, then raised a hand. “Thanks again for coming out tonight.”
His easy confident stride carried him back to the bench, and he reached for his hat. As he sat, he slid it back on his head, then leaned to one side to listen to one of his assistant coaches. The Stallionettes rushed onto the floor, and Adele broke out the camera. She recorded Kendra as she danced her heart out to N’Sync’s “Bye Bye Bye,” and cheered the loudest when the show was over.
Next, the Cougar cheerleaders took the floor and jumped about, calling out cheers. They did lots of backflips, and an impressive human pyramid. Through the stack of arms and legs, Adele’s attention was drawn to Zach. She could not see his eyes, but she knew that he was looking at her. His jaw was set. His chin squared. If she knew him better, she might think he was angry, but she didn’t know him. Not at all.
After fifteen more minutes of cheering, the pom-pom squad ran out of the gym, and the football players followed, high-fiving one another on the way. The crowd in the bleachers began to file out, and Adele made her way to Kendra, who stood in a knot of dancers and their mothers. She recognized Cindy Ann Baker from the barbecue at Zach’s.
“Are you ready?” Adele asked her niece.
“Can’t we stay for ice cream?”
She glanced behind her and spotted the top of Zach’s hat. He was surrounded as if he was a superstar, and she guessed he was. “I’ve got to work tonight,” she said, which wasn’t even a lie. She hadn’t worked very much that morning and had to make up for it tonight.
“Please,” Kendra begged. “All the girls are staying.”
“We’ll take her home,” Cindy Ann volunteered. “You go on to work before you’re late.”
“Thanks.”
“She works at home.” Kendra picked up her bag. “She can’t be late.”
A little wrinkle appeared between Cindy Ann’s light blue eyes. “What do you do?”
“I’m a writer.”
Cindy Ann froze, and her brows rose up her forehead. “Oh my God! You’re Adele Harris. Aren’t you?”
It wasn’t like Adele was recognized every day. Or even often, but she did have a fairly large readership. “Yes.”
“The other day at the party I thought you looked familiar. But when you said you went to Cedar Creek, I thought I must be wrong ’cause I just moved here from Alabama a few years ago.” She placed a hand on her chest. “I’ve read every book you’ve ever written. My favorites are your books with the Brannigan fairies. Although I just love your Star Ship Avalon series, too.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you enjoy them.” Normally she liked to fly under the radar. At home, no one at her grocery store knew who she was, and she liked it that way. She liked running into the grocery store for a pound of chocolate and a box of tampons, looking like complete crap.
“What are you working on now?” Cindy Ann wanted to know.
Before Adele could answer, Joe Brunner approached. “Hey, ladies.”
“Hey there, Joe.” Cindy Ann smiled at the assistant coach. “Did you know Adele here is a published writer?”
“Why no. What do you write?”
Zach excused himself from the parents surrounding him and moved to Don’s side.
“Be careful now,” he cautioned. “I want you back to a hundred percent next season.”
Don stuck crutches under his arms and hopped along on one leg. His mouth pulled into sullen lines. “I hate sittin’ out, not playin’ ball,” he grumbled.
“It’s only one season.” But in football that meant a lot, and they both knew it. “Just a few games, if you think about it.”
They passed Joe, chatting it up with Cindy Ann and Adele. From beneath the brim of his hat, Zach glanced at Adele, standing there in a pair of jeans and the same white sweater that zipped up her front she’d worn the day he’d seen her standing beneath his portico. Tonight, her hair hung down her back in sexy, wild curls, and she was doing a stellar job of ignoring him.
That was fine by him. He didn’t need some uptight woman from his past getting him all hot, then telling him nothing was going to happen between them. Not ever.
“Careful now,” he said, as Don teetered. Hell, it wasn’t as if he had even been meaning to start things between him and Adele the other day. At least not there. Not in his office with twelve thirteen-year-olds outside. One of whom was his daughter. When he’d walked into his office that day, he hadn’t even thought about kissing her. Then he’d touched her cheek, her goddamn cheek was all, and he’d wanted more. In seconds, he’d turned hard as a rock, and the memory of the night he’d taken her to the La Quinta flooded his head. The memory of her naked body pressed to his had lowered from his head to his dick, and damned if he hadn’t wanted to relive that night. All five times and twice in the morning.
Slowly, he and Don moved through the gym as people called out to them. Zach nodded and smiled and waved and wondered how his life had come to this. Lusting after a woman who clearly wanted nothing to do with him. That had never happened to him before, and he didn’t know why it was happening now. Maybe hi
s system had gone all peculiar because he was a full-time dad. Although, what that had to do with it he didn’t know.
Someone he didn’t recognize called out to him and he smiled and waved. “Hey there. How you doin’?” More than likely, though, the peculiarity to his system had something to do with his lack of a sex life. It was making him screwy. So to speak.
“Hey, Coach Z.”
“Hey there, Miz Owens,” he called out to Alvin Owens’s mother.
Maybe during the Christmas break, he’d drop Tiffany off at his mom’s in Austin and take a little trip to Denver and hang out with some of his buddies. He’d drink a few beers and get laid. A lot. That ought to take care of it. At least enough so he’d quit fantasizing about an old girlfriend who’d made it really clear she wasn’t interested in the likes of him.
Don stopped at the door to talk to a girl, and Zach continued through the halls of the school to the cafeteria, which had been decorated with paper cutouts of each boy’s jersey. The boosters had set up a table and were selling pennants and foam fingers. Zach grabbed a strawberry ice-cream cone and took a big bite out of the top. Baskin-Robbins might have thirty-one flavors, but he was a strawberry man. Always had been.
“Did you catch the game last Monday?” one of the boosters asked him, as he wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
He didn’t have to ask which game. Not in the heart of Cowboy country. “Sure did. Romo looks good in the pocket this year.” He shoved a hip into a vending machine and talked ball for several more minutes before Joe entered the cafeteria, followed by Tiffany, Kendra, and one of the other dancers. Cindy Ann’s girl maybe. Adele wasn’t with them. Not that he cared one way or the other. Just a mild observation.
He took a big bite out of his ice cream. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to give himself a brain freeze. “Denver is playin’ Pittsburgh Saturday night,” he said, as Joe walked toward him. Tiffany had some sort of dance-team sleepover that night, and pizza, beer, and a ball game with the guys sounded good to Zach.
Joe smiled and rocked back on the heels of his Tony Lamas. “I have a date Saturday night.”
“Good for you.” If anyone needed to get laid, it was Joe. Hell, maybe even more than he did. Zach took a big bite of his cone. “With Cindy Ann?”
“No, that writer.” Joe shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “The one with the curly hair and great behind. She was at your barbecue last weekend.”
“Adele?” Zach swallowed, and his brain froze, but he wasn’t sure it was from the ice cream. Adele couldn’t go out with Joe. She belonged to Zach. He straightened away from the vending machine as if he’d been jerked by invisible strings and threw the rest of his cone in a lined garbage can.
“Yeah. I think I’ll take her somewhere nice. Try and impress her.” Joe grinned, and joked, “Maybe get her good and drunk so she’ll come home with me.”
Normally Zach would have laughed, but he suddenly wasn’t in a laughing mood. No, he was in the mood to kick Joe’s ass, which was a strange feeling for Zach, who’d never been a particularly possessive guy. Adele wasn’t his, and he didn’t know where the feeling that he wanted to kick anyone’s ass was coming from. She could do whatever the hell she pleased. Joe could do whatever he pleased, too. They could do what they pleased together, and it wasn’t any of Zach’s business.
He clapped Joe on the shoulder as he walked around him. “Have fun.”
Chapter 8
Zach’s lengthy strides carried him back through the empty gym toward the coach’s office. To get there he had to pass through a long hall lined with glass cases, which were filled with trophies and team photos dating back to 1953, the year Cedar Creek High opened its doors.
A stack of game footage waited for him on his desk, and he wanted to study the Amarillo offense a few more times before tomorrow night’s game. If the Sandies had a weakness, it was their running game.
As Zach stepped into the hall, his gaze landed on Adele and Cindy Ann, the only other people around. He paused for several seconds before continuing toward them.
“That was the one and only year I was in flag corps,” Adele said, pointing to an old photo and plaque behind the glass. “My dad told me I looked like one of the soldiers from The Wizard of Oz.”
“I was in gymnastics most of my life,” Cindy Ann said, and glanced up at the sound of Zach’s bootheels on the linoleum. “Hey, Zach.”
“Cindy Ann.” Zach looked into Adele’s eyes. Those captivating eyes that sometimes turned a deeper blue. “Hello, Adele.”
“Zach.”
“Weren’t the Stallionettes great tonight?” Cindy Ann asked.
At the moment, he couldn’t recall. “They danced their little hearts out.”
Cindy Ann turned to Adele. “Well, I’ll let you go so you can get to work.” She adjusted an armadillo bag hanging off one shoulder. “And remember, if you ever decide to write more books about the Brannigan fairies, I’d love to read them.”
“I’ll think about it. Thanks for taking Kendra home.”
“You’re welcome.” She walked toward the door, and said over her shoulder, “Bye, Zach.”
“See ya.” He lowered his gaze from Adele’s face, down her throat and the round swells of her breasts beneath her thin sweater to the lower right side of her belly. “Are you still into fairies?”
“Not so much these days.” She moved to step around him, but his hand on her arm stopped her.
“That’s too bad,” he said, and looked back up into her face. With no more than the touch of her arm beneath his hand, a hot ball of lust hit him behind the button fly of his jeans. “I have a few fond memories of kissing that fairy you have tattooed just above your panties.”
Her lips parted and color rose up her cheeks. “That was a long time ago.”
“You keep saying that.”
“It’s true.”
“True but memorable. Right up there with winning the Super Bowl. Or throwing that fifty-yarder to DaShaun Wilson in the last three seconds of the game against Chicago. And, honey, that was the perfect spiral. ESPN still shows that clip.” If they’d been somewhere more private, he would have given serious thought to falling to his knees and getting reacquainted with her fairy, but she was right. It had been a long time ago. Several lifetimes, and he looked into her face, seeing the resemblance to the girl he’d once known and the differences, too. Her mouth was a little wider and her lips softer than he remembered. Her pale skin was still smooth and her hair wild, even when she tried to tame it. Her eyes were the same. The same blue that did things to his insides when she looked at him.
“Joe tells me you have a date.” Zach couldn’t recall ever feeling so possessive before. Not over a woman. Any woman.
“That’s right.”
“First the redhead, and now Joe.” He moved his hand up her arm and shoulder to the side of her neck. Beneath his thumb, he felt the quickening beat of her pulse. “Why?”
“They must think I’m nice and want to spend time with me.”
They didn’t think she was nice. They thought she was hot, and the time they wanted to spend with her was in bed. Maybe he was projecting his own wants, but he didn’t think he was alone. “I know why they ask you out. I’m not so clear on why you say yes.”
Her brows lowered as if he was crazy. He felt crazy. “Why wouldn’t I say yes?”
“Because you don’t really want to be with them, Adele.” There were a million reasons, all of them good, why he shouldn’t want Adele Harris again. At the moment, none of them mattered. He didn’t give a rat’s ass as his hands cupped her face. “You want to be with me.”
The corners of her full mouth turned downward. “You’re still as arrogant and full of yourself as you ever were.”
He smiled. “Probably.”
“That wasn’t a compliment!”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m right.”
She wrapped her hands around his wrists. “No, Zach. You’re mistaken. I don’t want to b
e with you.”
If she’d wanted him to stop, she’d said the exact wrong thing. He looked into her eyes, a subtle shade darker then they’d been a moment ago, and felt her pulse kick up a notch. “You’re not any better a liar now than you used to be.” He turned his face to the side to keep the bill of his hat from hitting her forehead and kissed her. A nice soft kiss that belied the savage lust beating his chest, pounding his groin, and urging him to push her up against the trophy case. Instead, he lightly pressed his mouth into hers, and his thumb brushed her cheek. Her lips parted with a little gasp, and she pulled his breath into her lungs. She put her hand on his chest, and the warmth of her palm spread fire across his skin and twisted his belly with pleasure and pain. She exhaled against his mouth, a slight puff of warm air that turned the pleasure and pain into an almost mindless need.
Adele pulled away, and Zach’s hand fell to his side. Within her chest, she felt her heart pounding, and she could hardly breathe. She looked into Zach’s sexy, sleepy eyes and she remembered his sneaky ways from fourteen years ago. How his light, teasing touch had ruthlessly made her want him even more. “You’re slick.”
He actually smiled as he reached for her. “Thank you.”
She took a step backward, out of his reach. “Again—not a compliment, Zach!” Every cell in her body was on fire. All he had to do was touch her, and every nerve ending twisted into a ball of yearning.
His hand fell to his side. “Honey, come here.”
She shook her head and took another step backward. “I don’t trust you.”
“Baby, you don’t trust yourself.”
That was true. She didn’t trust herself not to give in to his sneaky, slick ways, and that just made her mad. “What’s the matter, Zach? Can’t you find a willing woman to harass?”
Instead of getting angry like she’d intended, he laughed. “Finding willing women has never been a problem for me.”
“God, you can’t help yourself. You’re a pathological bragger.” She held her hand up and took another step back. “Not a compliment.”
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