by Beth Andrews
More than once, he’d caught Gracie looking at him, only to drop her gaze when he turned her way. Maybe she had a thing for him.
The idea didn’t totally suck. It wasn’t inconceivable, either. Over the past year, girls had started noticing him more and more, thanks to his growing a few inches and finally putting on some muscle. It was cool, being checked out. Wanted.
Even if it was by someone like Gracie.
He didn’t know her that well, despite their being neighbors. He’d been busy with football, work and his new friends all summer, but once or twice he’d seen her in her yard, either alone or with a few of the many younger brothers she had. In school, he didn’t notice her much except for those few times in class when he’d feel her gaze on him.
It bugged him that she thought he was afraid of her dog. For some reason, it bugged him even more that she’d seen him acting like a brat.
“I wasn’t having a temper tantrum,” he blurted. “Back there. At the recycling bin.”
“I have five little brothers with one more on the way. Believe me, I know a temper tantrum when I see it. And yours was top-notch.”
Damn it, would his face ever cool down again? “I was pissed. I got carried away. That’s all.”
“What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
She gave a half shrug that made her boobs rise in a way he couldn’t help but notice and kept walking.
“My mom’s making me quit the football team,” he said, lengthening his stride. “She says it’s too dangerous, which is bullshit.”
“It doesn’t matter if she’s right or not when she has the power to make the decision about whether or not you play. Maybe instead of kicking harmless recycling containers and being grumpy to me, you could look into other options in order to keep playing.”
“I’m not grumpy,” he muttered. Little kids and old men were grumpy. “And there are no other options. I told you, she won’t let me play. Nothing I do or say will get her to change her mind. I know her. You don’t.”
His mom didn’t change her mind.
“You don’t need her to change her mind,” Gracie said.
He stared at her. Maybe she wasn’t as bright as he’d thought. “If I don’t have parental permission to play, I can’t be on the team.”
“You have two parents?”
“Duh, but—” Realization dawned and his eyes narrowed. “You think I could play with my dad’s permission?”
“I’m not sure, but I do know that before my parents got divorced, any time my dad wouldn’t let me do something or if I got into trouble, I’d go to my mom and she’d say yes or yell at my dad for being too hard on me and he’d let me off the hook.”
“What do you mean divorced? Isn’t that lady with the blond hair your mom?” He’d seen the mom out in the yard plenty of times.
“That’s my stepmom, Molly. She and Dad got married when I was nine. My real mom left us when I was six.”
He didn’t know what to say. She sounded so matter-of-fact, as if it didn’t bother her. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling like an idiot for even wanting to offer that lame attempt at sympathy.
Another shrug. “All I’m saying is that sometimes, the threat of going to someone else is enough to get parents to back down or give in. Do you need your mom’s permission or just parental permission to play football?”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted, but he’d look into it as soon as he got home.
“And you shouldn’t feel bad about pitting your parents against each other,” she said as they stopped in front of her house. She unhooked the dog’s leash and he ran into the yard. “I mean, yeah, it’s manipulative, but they don’t get what it’s like to be a teenager, you know? Besides, they’re the ones who split in the first place, right?”
She was right. He hadn’t wanted his parents to get divorced. They hadn’t even fought. There had been no yelling, no slamming doors or threats or anything. Just...we don’t want to be married anymore so we’re going to rip your life apart and oh, yeah, you have to move across the country because your mom doesn’t want to be in the same town as your father so say goodbye to your life.
It sucked.
But Gracie had a point. A good one. And standing this close to her, he started to think maybe she was cuter than he’d originally thought.
Plus, she smelled good. Really good, like vanilla.
He glanced at his house. He’d have to go back there eventually. But not yet.
“Want to sit on the porch for a few minutes?” He held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t blow him off, telling himself it didn’t matter if she did because she was just his goofy neighbor.
“Sure.” She smiled.
He smiled back. Yeah. She was definitely cute. If they sat on her porch, there on the corner swing, no one would see them. And if they happened to become friends, that was okay.
Because no one would ever have to know.
* * *
“COACH? CAN I talk to you for a minute?”
Leo slowed as he made his way to the practice field and glanced at Drew. He was pissed at the kid, sure, but he didn’t hold grudges. Besides, he liked Drew. “You’ve got as long as it takes me to reach the field,” he said. “And then you need to be off that property since you’re not a part of the team.”
Okay, so maybe he was more than a little pissed. The kid had lied to him, after all.
Mainly, though, Leo was disappointed.
Drew caught up. “If I got permission to play, could I get back on the team?”
Leo stopped, frowned at him. “Your mom’s going to let you play?”
He found that hard to believe given the way she’d reacted yesterday.
The kid shifted. “My dad will let me. If I get him to sign the papers—”
“Sorry. No can do.”
And he started walking again.
Drew hurried past him, then turned to walk backward. “Why not? Look, the only reason I lied and forged my mom’s name was because I knew she wouldn’t let me play.”
“You already gave your reasons yesterday,” Leo said, nodding at one of his fullbacks as the kid jogged to the field. Being late meant extra laps. “But that doesn’t excuse what you did. Now, you plan on using your dad to get what you want, to pit him against your mom? Trust me, that won’t go over well.”
“I read the rules,” Drew muttered, all sullen and resentful. “It only says I need a guardian to sign the papers. Even though I live with my mom, my parents share custody of me, legally, so my dad can sign.”
Leo stopped and removed his sunglasses. “You think you can trick the system again? I guarantee you it won’t work. And even if it did, even if the superintendent or the athletic director allowed it, I still wouldn’t let you on the team.”
The kid looked ready to cry, his face pale. “What? Why not?”
Seriously? He didn’t get it? Teenagers. Logic and reason often skipped right over their heads. They only saw and believed what they wanted, what would work for them.
“Because you lied to me and your teammates. You put the entire team in jeopardy. You were selfish and manipulative.”
Red blotches appeared on Drew’s cheeks. “But I told you why—”
“Doesn’t matter why. You made the wrong choices and there are consequences for those actions.”
“That’s not fair,” he cried.
Leo laid his hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Hate to break the news to you, but life is often not fair.”
It wasn’t fair—not to her family, not to her friends and especially not to herself—that Samantha was killed in that accident over Labor Day weekend. The choice she had made to go too fast around that curve cost them everything, and it pissed Leo off that Drew didn’t register that his decisions had consequences. Even something as seemingly small as forging a parent’s consent had an impact on others. Leo didn’t want him going through life thinking he could make mistakes and never have to pay for them or never suffer the outcome of the bad c
hoices he made. In Leo’s line of work, he too often saw those choices ruin a life or, worse, take one.
“Believe me, I know.”
Leo was taken aback by the bitterness in Drew’s tone, but put that aside to deliver a lesson about consequences.
“I could have been fired by allowing you to play without permission. More important, the team could have faced punishment or sanctions or been forced to forfeit wins if you’d played and it came out later that you were ineligible. You could have ruined your teammates’ year, their chances of returning to the district playoffs, of getting scouted by college teams. You lied and you let your team down. I’m not about to forget that. So instead of trying to find a way around the rules, why don’t you figure out a way to play without bending them or lying or manipulating the people around you? Growing up, acting like an adult, means taking responsibility for your actions and not taking the easy way out.”
“But the rules say I can play,” Drew insisted.
Leo pinched the bridge of his nose. Oh, to be so stubbornly clueless. He dropped his hand. “Doesn’t matter. It’s my team and I don’t want you on it. Not this way.”
Putting his sunglasses on, he walked away.
Only to be stopped again when Drew darted in front of him.
The kid put a whole new spin on the word tenacious.
Leo could almost admire him for it.
“What if my mom agrees to let me play?” Drew asked.
“Something tells me that’s not about to happen.” Something such as Penelope being even more stubborn than her son.
“But what if she did? Would you let me on the team then?”
Leo tipped his head back, blew out a heavy breath. Since the heavens weren’t providing any guidance, he rolled his shoulders and faced Drew. The kid looked so damned hopeful that, despite his intentions to teach him a lesson, Leo couldn’t say no. “If your mother was fully on board, I’d consider taking you back.”
Drew’s face lit up like he’d just been handed his very own Playboy Bunny. “That’s all I’m asking for, Coach. Could you...could you come to my house tonight? Around seven? Please,” he added when Leo hesitated. “Please. It’d mean a lot to me.”
Christ, but he was turning into a grade-A sap. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes, not a second more.”
Drew grabbed Leo’s hand and shook it hard enough to make Leo’s teeth rattle. “Thanks, Coach. Thanks. You won’t regret it.”
He already did.
CHAPTER TEN
“WHAT ARE YOU doing here?”
Penelope winced, her hand squeezing her front door handle. That had been awfully rude. In her defense, the last person she’d expected to find on her porch was Leo Montesano of the broad shoulders and sexily rumpled hair.
“Drew invited me,” Leo said, not the least bit perturbed by her lack of welcome. Must be nice to remain so consistently unruffled. “He didn’t tell you?”
“For that to happen, he’d have to be speaking to me.”
She’d waited for Andrew to return last night for almost thirty minutes before grabbing her keys, determined to track him down if need be and bring him home. But when she’d reached her car, she’d heard his voice next door. Ducking behind the hedge separating her driveway from the Weavers’, she’d spied him on the neighbors’ wide porch.
With Gracie.
Not quite what Penelope had expected, but at least she’d known he was safe. She’d slunk into her house like some inept stalker, then busied herself with dinner and laundry until he’d finally returned an hour later.
At which point her beloved son had grabbed the plate she’d fixed him, grunted in her general direction, then locked himself in his room. She’d let him go, had wanted him to have time to cool off before discussing his punishment. When she’d gone up at nine, she told him he was grounded for two weeks and took his phone.
This morning he hadn’t even looked at her, just left for school. And when she got home from work over an hour ago, he’d refused to come out of his room.
Leo angled his body forward. “How much time do you think you’re going to need?” he asked in a slow drawl that elicited gooseflesh on her arms.
The man was potent. Potent and an expert at working women, seducing them with that face and body into giving him whatever he wanted.
She’d do best to remember that. “For what, exactly?”
“To decide whether or not to let me in.”
“No time needed there at all. I’m not interested in hearing anything you have to say.”
A muscle contracted in his jaw. He straightened. “You made that perfectly clear yesterday.”
Her stomach grew queasy with embarrassment. Sure. Throw her horrible behavior in her face. Honestly, how many times could one woman make a fool of herself in front of a man? There had to be a limit.
“Did I also make it clear that there’s nothing you can do or say to convince me to let Andrew play football? That no amount of charm is going to work on me?”
He stepped closer, but this time, his expression was dark. Determined.
Dangerous.
Her mouth dried and she shifted behind the door, shutting it more, but he wedged his foot between it and the frame.
“Now, that,” he said, his voice low and husky, his gaze dropping to her mouth for one long, nerve-racking moment, “sounds like a challenge.”
The blood rushed in her ears. She locked her knees. All the reasons she’d given him for rejecting his date invitation held true, but this, this right here, had been a big part of it. She couldn’t handle him. Was so far out of her element, she might as well be on a separate planet.
“It...it wasn’t.”
“That’s probably for the best.” Leaning forward, his chest pressing against her shoulder, he spoke close to her ear. “If I decide to charm you, I wouldn’t want it to be about anything or anyone other than you and me.”
Her lips parted on a soundless oh.
“Mom?”
With a small shriek, Penelope jumped and whirled around, her heart racing. “I... You...”
Andrew frowned, his gaze going from her to the barely open door. “What are you doing?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I mean...” She eased away from the door. “Someone’s here to see you.”
Andrew nodded at Leo. “Coach,” he said, his voice sounding deeper than it had a second ago. “Thank you for coming.” And then her son stepped forward and offered Leo his hand. “Please, come on in.”
Penelope gaped at Andrew. Polite manners and not a sneer in sight?
It was a miracle.
And extremely suspicious.
She shut the door and followed them into the living room. “Andrew, you didn’t mention Leo was coming over.” She hated surprises. Better to know what was coming so you could be prepared for it. “What’s this about?”
“Sit down. Please,” he added almost as an afterthought.
She perched on the edge of a chair while Leo sat in the middle of the couch. Andrew remained standing. Looked nervous. He paced the length of the room, then stopped and inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry. For everything.”
Penelope blinked. Not at his words—though they were ones she heard rarely—but because he seemed sincere.
“Care to be more specific?” Leo asked.
Andrew nodded as if accepting that he had to step up and do this the right way. “I’m sorry I lied about where I was,” he told Penelope. “And that I forged your name on those papers.”
She sighed. She could see where this was headed. “I appreciate your apology, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you playing.”
“I know it doesn’t. That’s why I asked Coach to come here. So I could explain to you both why I did what I did.” He faced Leo. “I’m sorry I lied to the team and risked getting them into trouble. I just... I know it was wrong, but I really wanted to play, to be a part of the team.” Swallowing, he wiped his palms down the front of his jeans. “You see when I was little I was...I was
sick.”
Penelope stopped breathing. Andrew didn’t like to talk about what he’d gone through. He’d kept it inside, not sharing his thoughts or feelings about his illness with her or his father. As far as she knew, he didn’t talk to anyone about his illness.
“It was pretty bad,” Andrew continued. “Bad enough that I spent a long time in the hospital. Even longer on bed rest, so I missed a lot of the things that my friends did. Sports and field trips and band practice. Stuff like that. Normal stuff, you know? Which is how I feel when I play football. Like a normal kid.”
“Oh, Andrew,” Penelope said quietly, her heart breaking for him.
Their eyes met and she was sure he was remembering, as she was, the long days in the hospital, the treatments and the fear that it was all for nothing. That no matter how much medicine they pumped into his body, they’d lose the battle.
They’d lose him.
But they hadn’t. He was alive. Whole and healthy and standing before her wanting to put himself in danger.
How could she permit that?
Andrew shoved his hands into his pockets. “I was really mad at you yesterday,” he told Penelope.
“I think that was fairly obvious,” she said drily.
“I was so mad I called Dad about staying with him.”
She felt as if the air had been knocked from her lungs. “What?”
“He didn’t answer. He didn’t even call me back.”
She wanted to make excuses for Todd. Not for her ex-husband’s sake, but for her child’s. “You know how busy he is at work.”
Andrew snorted. “Yeah. He’s always busy.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, because even if he told me I couldn’t live with him, I came up with the idea of asking him to sign the papers and give me permission to be on the football team. But Coach said the only way he’ll consider letting me play is if you give me permission. Even then it’s not a done deal so I wanted to talk to you both, let you know how important playing is to me and how sorry I am. Really. I’ll work extra hard and keep my grades up and I won’t lie or anything if you’ll just let me play. Both of you.”
Penelope was still reeling from his attempting to go behind her back by asking his father. Thank God Todd hadn’t answered Andrew’s call. She didn’t want her ex-husband to hurt their son. And he would.
