by Desiree Holt
“You know. The game. Playing. The excitement. The crowd.” He chuckled. “The girls throwing themselves all over you.”
Chase didn’t laugh or even grin. The girls had been fun but were never the reason he’d played for the Granite Falls Coyotes. Being on the team that won the state high school championship had given him a sense of worth he’d struggled for since the day his mother walked out. Winning the Division III championship for the Coast Guard Academy had been his next most satisfying moment in life, and had come at a time when his self-esteem was again in shreds. So yeah, football ranked right up there with the Guard. He loved them both.
“You’ve never been to Texas, right?”
“Nope.” John shook his head. “Sorry about that.”
“Yeah, me too. You’re missing something. But anyway, football—especially high school football—is like a religion in Texas. Remember that program Friday Night Lights? That gave you a pretty good idea. Everyone goes to the games and screams their lungs out. For the entire season it’s about all everyone talks about.”
“So you guys were like some kind of gods, right?” John teased.
Chase shrugged. “Maybe. Sort of. But the thing I remember the most is our coach, Coach Fenelli. He taught us how to be a team and how to have values. How to honor the school we played for. Those were four of the greatest years of my life.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t go to a major university. You know, play on a big team, and get scouted by the NFL.”
“Not in my plans,” Chase told him. “I was good and a vital part of the starting lineup, but I wasn’t a star. A standout. I didn’t ever see myself playing pro football. Plus I needed a scholarship, and the bigs weren’t coming after me with offers. The Coast Guard Academy was perfect and helped me form a direction for my life.”
“But you still love the game,” John reminded him. “I see it when we watch television together, or when you talk about the kids’ team.”
“I’ll never lose my love of the game. And I get more satisfaction working with the Pop Warner League, I think, than if I’d try to go pro. I’ll tell you, John, these kids are really good. A lot better than I was expecting.” He stopped at the end of the walkway. “You guys ought to come by and check it out sometime. They’d appreciate the support. And some of the guys on our crew have kids in this program.”
“So I understand.” John checked his watch. “When’s the next game?”
“Tomorrow night. I’ll text you the directions. Six o’clock, okay?”
“Okay.” John punched it into the calendar on his watch.
“We take the team out for pizza afterward,” Chase added. “It can get pretty wild, but you’re welcome to come along.”
“Thanks. I’m hanging out with Amy tomorrow night. She loves football. And kids.” He grinned. “Two excellent qualifications for the future.”
“You two are spending a lot of time together,” Chase commented.
John winked. “That’s what two people do when they are into each other.”
Chase liked Amy a lot. She was always so nice to him and treated him as a brother rather than just as John’s friend. But again, she seemed to be on the same mission as the guys, trying to pair him up with her friends all the time. He appreciated her concern, and things seemed to be working out just fine for her and John. He just couldn’t convince her he was fine the way he was.
He squelched the tiny bit of jealousy trying to bite him in the ass. Underneath it all, he was glad his friend had someone to “hang” with. Amy was sweet and at the same time independent, and obviously smitten with his friend.
He used to think he was cursed and would never find a solid relationship. By now he’d come to accept that some people were meant to remain single, and had moved on with his life. He was good. Better than good. Fine.
“Well, uh, okay. We get a pretty substantial crowd for the games, so come early. Oh, and bring something to sit on. The bleachers are small and fill up pretty fast.”
“Got it.”
They bumped fists and headed off in separate directions.
But John’s earlier words had reminded him he’d gone a while without a lady on his arm. Maybe one of the wives or girlfriends would bring a friend to the game and he could hook up for a few dates. Scratch that itch that popped up now and then. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like women. After all, he was a healthy thirty-two-year-old man, and he enjoyed sex as much the next person.
Did it make him an asshole because he didn’t want anything more? He was always upfront with women, always explained his situation. Not looking for anything permanent. Not looking for a lasting relationship. If a woman was good with that, they could enjoy each other for whatever short time it lasted.
He could be entertaining—and damn good in bed—or so he’d been told. As long as women didn’t expect anything else from him, he was good to go. He was happy with things that way. He was.
Exactly who are you trying to convince, asshole?
No one. With deliberate effort, he pushed the whole thing out of his mind and got ready to go work out.
* * * *
“Hey, Holly. How’s it going?”
Holly stopped as she walked into the hallway from the locker room and turned toward the voice. Cliff Randall, who drove the truck on her squad, was just exiting the kitchen area.
“Going great.”
He studied her face. “You sure? I know when I’m not around, some of the guys on the squad give you a rough time. You’d tell me, right? I don’t tolerate that and you know it.”
Holly was no whiner. She’d known when she chose a male-dominated profession she might be in for a rough time now and then.
“It’s all good. Everything okay with you?”
“Same as always. Crazy hectic.” He grinned. “With three kids there’s always something going on. School, afterschool activities, sports.”
She liked Cliff, had felt comfortable with him from her first day at the firehouse. He was a happily married man (yay that someone could do that) and had taken her under his wing. At first she’d been afraid he’d be like the other men on the squad, giving her crap just to see if she could take it. But after a few weeks, she’d been pleasantly surprised at how accepting they’d become. She knew there were female firefighters at many stations across the country, but she was the only one here. Somehow they all managed to treat her as a woman and one of the guys at the same time.
For a moment, listening to him, Holly felt the tiniest of twinges. Would she ever find a man she could trust enough to settle down with like that? One who respected her and her chosen career? One with whom she could have children? Who didn’t think her job made her less feminine? Or didn’t want bragging rights for boinking the female firefighter?
Looking back and digging up the past was a no-win situation. Better to go home to her popcorn and old movies. No danger there. The respect and satisfaction she got with her job meant everything to her.
“Hey, Holly.” Fingers tapped on her temple. “What’s going on in there?”
“Um, oh, sorry.” She roused herself, wondering if Cliff thought she was having a brain fart. “Didn’t mean to take a vacation here. One of your little guys is playing in the Pop Warner League, right?”
Stupid. Of course she knew that. Cliff always had a gazillion photos to show from the games.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “As a matter of fact, there’s a game tomorrow night. You like football?”
Did she? She smiled. Football was one of her secret passions. She didn’t drool over the players the way a lot of women did. No, she admired them for their athleticism and skill and the excitement generated by the game. She saw them as gladiators, the football field their battle arena. Whenever she attended games, she was sure she screamed louder than anyone else. She’d never been to a youth football game, but it might be fun. She’d met Cliff’s wife and liked her. Felt comfortable with her. Unlike many other women, Lara Randall didn’
t resent Holly for working with men all day, including her husband.
“I do. I’m actually a huge fan.”
“No kidding? You should come watch with us,” Cliff prodded. “That is, if you can get into the peewee version.”
Holly thought for a moment. She really hadn’t done much in the way of socializing since she joined the firehouse. Except of course with Adara, who didn’t care about anything except being her friend. And who also thought she should get out and rub elbows with people more.
“It’s okay to say no.” Cliff’s voice was gentle. “If you don’t have kids, they can be a bit much.”
“I like kids, Cliff. Sure. I’d love to go, especially to cheer for your son.”
“Great.” He grinned. “I’ll tell my wife. I know Lara would like to see you again.”
“I’d like to see her too. What time?” She could get through one evening with a group of people without finding ten things wrong with everyone, right? And maybe dust off her rusty social skills.
“Game starts at six, but if you want a place to sit, you’d better get there by five. You’re on the early shift tomorrow, right?”
She nodded. “I am, so it should work out just fine. Should I bring food or do you go out to eat afterward?”
“Some of the moms who have smaller children bring stuff for them to eat. The rest of us always take the team out afterward. If you can stand a bunch of screaming hormonal preteens, we’d love to have you join us.” He started to walk away, then turned back. “Oh, and our team is the Strykers. Wouldn’t want you cheering for the other side.”
Holly grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
As she headed to the parking lot, she passed members of the new shift who had arrived. Most of them smiled and waved at her. It made her wonder if she’d been imagining…no. It wasn’t the guys she worked with who gave her the problems. Or even the two female EMTs. It was the women the guys dated who acted as if she was a threat to their situation with whichever firefighter they had their hooks out for. It didn’t matter how many times she explained she didn’t date any of her co-workers. Ever. It was an unwritten rule for her.
Of course, at the moment she wasn’t dating anyone. Her choice, and up till now she’d been very happy with it. No complications. No one trying to change her. No shit to deal with. No muscle flexing. No questioning her femininity. Was Adara right in telling her it was time to live a little again? Was she turning into a young old maid? Crappity crap crap.
She had just settled into the driver’s seat of her car when her cell rang. She looked at the readout. Will. Checking up on her again. At least he never tried to talk her into coming back to North Carolina. She pushed the Accept button.
“Hey.”
“Hey, Holly Bolly.”
She gritted her teeth. “Do not call me that stupid name. I’m not ten years old anymore.”
His laughter boomed across the connection. “I know it. I just like to yank your chain.”
“Consider it yanked and toss the nickname, okay? What’s up?”
“Just thought I’d check in on my favorite sister.”
“I’m your only sister,” she pointed out. “And I’m doing fine.”
“Still loving your job? Happy out in San Diego?” There was concern in his voice. Will had been her protector for as long as she could remember.
“More than ever on both counts.”
“How’s the dating scene? Anything on the horizon your big brother should know about?”
For whatever reason, an image of Mr. Hot Guy flashed across her brain. Flashed was certainly the operative word, as heat washed over every inch of her skin, and her long-neglected lady parts quivered and pulsed.
More crappity crap crap.
She huffed a breath. “I don’t have time for it, big brother. I’m too busy trying to be good at my job.”
“You know I’d love for you to find the right guy,” he told her.
“Just choose better, right?” How many times had she heard that?
They chatted for a bit before she disconnected the call, her brother’s words still echoing in her brain. Will thought she should be dating, and maybe he was right. But not Mr. Hot Guy. People thought she was standoffish? They should meet him. Not a friendly bone in his body.
She hadn’t exactly given him a warm welcome. But then, she wasn’t the Pump It Up official greeter. She went to do her workout and that was that.
Still, as she drove home, the image of him continued to shimmer in her mind, like a temptation from the devil. Yes, that had to be what it was. The devil was playing games with her. Probably her punishment for being such a snippy bitch with Mr. Hot Guy yesterday.
And damn! She had to stop thinking of him that way. She could almost see “asshole” written on his back. Mr. Macho. Nope. Not for her. Maybe when she took her shower she could take her brain out and wash it too.
Chapter 3
Chase pulled into the county sports complex and parked his car. He’d run a few minutes late leaving the base, so the team was already there, circled in a group around Coach Anselm. He knew the man would be giving his usual pregame speech, attempting to calm the kids down and pump them up at the same time. He admired Anselm’s knowledge as well as his endless patience with the team. Not to mention the flexibility he allowed Chase so he could serve as an assistant coach. He’d known from the beginning Chase’s duties with the Coast Guard sometimes played hell with his responsibilities to the team, but Anselm willingly worked around it.
“I’d rather have you part-time than a lot of others full-time,” he’d said.
“Hi, Chase!” The shout caught his attention.
He looked up and saw the parents of his star quarterback, seated as usual in the first row of the bleachers. They came to every game, and one of them attended every practice, like most of the other parents.
“Hey.” He waved at them. “Glad to see you’ve got your reserved seats.”
The woman laughed. “We’re thinking of putting our names on them. You know we wouldn’t miss any of this.”
For a moment he thought of his father, who’d never missed a game or any other event that Chase was a part of. He’d more than made up for the fact that Chase’s mother had walked out on both of them, leaving the impression that neither of them were worth her hanging around. That had meant the world to him. Between his dad and Coach Fenelli, he had come to believe he was a valuable individual. That’s what he hoped to instill in these kids.
He dumped his gear bag on the picnic table that held supplies, grabbed his clipboard and a pen, and walked over to where the team was assembled. There was a chorus of “Hey, Coach,” and he exchanged several fist bumps. He stood there while Anselm went over some of the fundamentals again with the group. These were preteen boys, ages ten to twelve, with more energy than they knew what to do with. They lived and breathed football, much as Chase had done in high school. Working with them gave him more satisfaction then he’d ever dreamed possible.
Pregame speech over, he watched as the boys put on their helmets and ran out onto the field for their warm-up exercises. He was making some notes on his clipboard when he felt the light tap of a fist on his shoulder.
“We made it.”
Chase turned at the sound of John McFarland’s voice. “Hey, buddy. Glad you made it.” He looked at the woman standing beside John. “Hi, Amy. Nice to see you.”
“Ditto. Thanks for inviting us.” She gave him a warm smile, then looked around. “I think I might actually have a few of these kids in my classes.”
“Yeah, right.” He nodded. “Some of these kids are sixth graders.
Amy chuckled. “Talk about uncontrollable energy.”
“But she really knows how to handle them.” John hugged the woman, tucking her into his side and placing a kiss on her forehead.
Great. The Coastie and the teacher. A great couple for a romantic movie. Somebody cue the music.
He hated r
omantic movies.
But immediately as the thought splashed into his brain he did his best to squelch it. If these two had found something together, he didn’t need to be sarcastic about it and rain on their parade.
Damn. Maybe John was right and he had turned into a bitter person. But a guy could get burned only so many times. Still, he didn’t need to keep taking it out on his friends.
“I hear you.” He smiled at Amy. “I’m sure they’re excited to have you come here to watch them.” He waved toward the bleachers. “The stands are full, though, so it’s a good thing you brought your own chair.”
“Always ready.” John lifted both hands to show the folded chairs he was holding. “Isn’t that our motto? Semper Paratus? We’re going to find a good place to camp out. Oh, and we decided to join the pizza party afterward, if the invitation’s still good.”
“Of course.” Chase laughed. “Although you may be running back to the safety of a Coast Guard interdiction mission before tonight is over.”
“We’ll be okay.”
“I’m looking forward to it, as a matter of fact,” Amy added. “This should be fun.”
“Don’t let us keep you from your appointed duties,” John teased.
Chase looked at his watch. “And it’s about time I got to them. See you after the game.”
The officials signaled for both teams to end their warm-ups and leave the field for their respective sidelines. Chase got as excited as the kids when a game was about to start. All that energy shimmering in the air, the kids jumping up and down, the sense of expectation.
At last it was game time. The teams lined up, with the Strykers winning the toss and opting to receive in the second half. Raw energy sizzled, the official’s whistle blew, the place kicker kicked the ball, and the game was on.
For Chase, each game was like being back in Granite Falls, lining up with his Coyotes teammates. Bleachers filled with people cheering loudly. The announcer’s voice booming over the loudspeaker. The air electric with anticipation. Here it was a little different because there was only one bleacher stand, so parents and friends of both teams sat together. Parents frequently got a little obsessive when their kids were playing in a competitive sport. The proximity had made for some interesting confrontations, which he and Anselm handled.
