Run With My Heart (Texas Tornadoes Sports Romance Book 1)

by Lorana Hoopes

  Tucker stepped into the shower and turned the water to hot. He’d always enjoyed the steam, but it was even more invigorating today. It pushed the last bit of sleep from his eyes, but it also had the unfortunate effect of clearing the fog from his head which allowed his mind to think about the day ahead. What in the world would he do with kids all day? They had seemed nice Friday evening, but he had only spent an hour there. Most of that had been introducing himself and then talking with Kenzi while they kept an eye on the kids. Today would be longer, and he wasn’t much of a kid person. Maybe that was because he’d had to grow up so quickly. Maybe it was the reminder of his own past before his mother died. Whatever the reason, he’d never been great with kids. Sure, he would sign their footballs and shirts and pose for pictures, but he was always more comfortable when there were no kids in the crowd.

  With a sigh, he turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. He would just have to make the best of the situation. After all, it was only for a week. One week, and then his community service obligation would be over. He could concentrate on the game and return to sleeping in.

  * * *

  Shelby glanced up from the flyer she was making as the door opened. Tucker Jackson strode through right on time. She’d had her doubts that he would show up again, but she supposed she was glad. Her high school volunteer who normally helped out during Christmas Break had texted her last night stating she didn’t feel well and probably wouldn’t make it in for the day, which would have left Kenzi and Shelby in quite a pickle if Tucker hadn’t shown up. Though their count was low enough that two people could watch the kids, it would have meant no break for either of them all day, and that made for a long day. Hopefully, Jennifer’s illness was temporary and not typical high school flaking. She had seemed responsible, but Shelby had noticed a shift in some of the younger generation.

  “Perfect timing,” she said as he signed in on the log. “Can you come around here? I need to have you fill out a volunteer form, and I’d like to see what you think of this flyer for your clinic.” She’d mentioned the event to the parents when they picked up their kids on Friday, but she wanted flyers to give the kids to take home as a reminder and to hand out to anyone new. Plus, she hoped to find some time to post a few around the town today.

  “Uh, sure.” He might have been speaking to her, but she thought that his eyes were definitely looking for Kenzi. Shelby tried not to let it bother her. After all, she was used to being in Kenzi’s shadow, but she couldn’t deny that a part of her wanted to step out and be noticed for once.

  He appeared in the doorway a moment later, and she waved him into the room. She slid the volunteer form she had pulled out earlier across the table to him.

  “What’s this?” he asked as he picked up the paper.

  “The volunteer form. Every volunteer has to fill one out. I should have had you do it the last time you were here, but I forgot. It’s straightforward information — name, address, phone number, blood type.”

  His eyes shot up. “Blood type?”

  Shelby bit back her smile; she hadn’t thought he would be this easy to tease. She put on her best serious face and tried to keep her voice neutral. “Of course, just in case you fall or the kids attack you and we need to rush you to the hospital.”

  He cocked his head at her and narrowed his eyes. “You’re joking with me, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am.” Shelby forced her face to remain deadpan though she could feel the giggle building inside her. “We haven’t had anyone fall around here in a very long time.”

  He shook his head and began filling out the form, and Shelby counted the seconds in her head. How long would it take him to realize…?

  His head shot up. “Wait, the kids don’t really attack people, do they?”

  The giggle escaped her lips at the slight panic in his eyes. He was way too gullible. “No, I’m kidding. It’s really just so we can get ahold of you if necessary, and we have to keep a record in case anything ever happens that needs to be investigated. Don’t worry, though, it never has.”

  “I didn’t take you for having such a sense of humor,” Tucker said as a small smile pulled at his own lips.

  Sense of humor. Yep. That’s what she had. Kenzi had the magnetic smile, personality, and figure; and Shelby had… Humor. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she said softly under her breath. She didn’t think she’d said it loud enough for him to hear, but when he paused and glanced at her from the corner of his eye, she had to wonder. Thankfully, he said nothing though and just continued filling out the form.

  “Okay, all done.” He clicked the back of the pen before laying it on the paper and sliding both her direction.

  “Thanks.” She picked up the form and rolled back to the desk, placing it in a manila file folder next to her computer.

  “There’s already a file on me?” he asked.

  “What?” She chuckled and shook her head as he grinned at her. So, he had a sense of humor too. “Yeah, the team sent over your rap sheet. I had no idea.” She’d meant the words as a joke, but as his jaw tightened, she could tell that something had hit a nerve. Did he have a rap sheet? Was that why he had been assigned community service? He hadn’t actually told her what he’d done. Had he done something worth being punished for? He’d said it hadn’t been his fault, but had he been lying? She wanted to know more, but she could tell he wasn’t going to open up about it. Surely, it couldn’t be anything that bad. They wouldn’t send someone violent to a center to work with kids, would they? No, of course they wouldn’t; she was just being paranoid. Still, perhaps she could call later and get more information.

  “Um, well anyway, here’s the flyer I’ve been working on for the clinic. Can you tell me what you think?” He crossed the small room to stand beside her, and the scent of his woodsy cologne filled her nose. He wasn’t as tall as her brothers, but there was something solid and masculine about his presence. A tremor raced down her back, and she forced herself not to shiver.

  “It looks good,” he said, “but you might want to include the price. People won’t like it if they think it’s free and then we charge them when they show up. How much are you charging anyway?”

  “I’m not sure. I know you haven’t done this before, but what do you think is a good rate? Fifty dollars? More? Less?” She’d crunched a few numbers over the weekend and knew they needed to charge as much as people would be willing to pay, but she wanted to hear his thoughts too.

  He ran his hand across his jaw. The soft scratch of skin against stubble filled the silence. “I think fifty is too low. Plus, you’re trying to increase enrollment, right?”

  Shelby nodded. “That is the ultimate goal. I need to pay January’s rent first and foremost, but getting more kids back in the program is the only way we’ll succeed long term.”

  He pursed his lips as if thinking again. “I know you want all your kids to be able to attend, but what if we have a sliding scale? The price is one hundred per kid, fifty for those who are current members, and seventy-five for anyone who signs up for the next month and pays in advance. Plus, you could offer a discount for families who have more than one kid.”

  Shelby blinked, blindsided by his logic. She hadn’t known many athletes in high school, preferring to hang around students who read or debated instead; but she’d had a generalization in her head about them. Stereotypical jocks who only thought about how to bulk up, win, and get girls. Tucker was proving that wrong. “That’s a great idea. How do you seem to know so much about charging rates? I thought you said you’d never done this before.”

  His smile faltered, and a small sigh proceeded his words. “My father is a prolific donor. I’m pretty sure he could turn it into an Olympic event if he wanted. Needless to say, I’ve heard all the spiels, read all the flyers, and deciphered all the doublespeak.”

  She nodded and began typing in the corrections. There was obviously a story here between him and his father, but again Shelby didn’t pry. She was great at
listening, but he didn’t know her well enough to open up to her; and whatever was going on between him and his father had affected him greatly. It probably still was.

  “Better?” she asked when she finished.

  He leaned over her shoulder again and nodded. “Yeah, now it looks great.”

  “Good, thank you. Did you think of anything else you might need?” She turned to look at him and nearly jumped out of her skin at how close his face was. Her heart thundered in her chest.

  “No, I think I’m good.” His eyes held hers a moment before he leaned back. “What would you like me to do today?”

  “Um.” Shelby was still trying to get her heart under control. Why was she reacting like this around him? He wasn’t interested in her; he’d made it abundantly clear that he preferred Kenzi. So, why did she feel like a giddy schoolgirl? “The kids will be arriving soon. Do you want to air up the balls and make sure they’re ready to go?”

  “I’d be happy to. Where do I find them?”

  Shelby grabbed the supply room key from the rack and then handed it to him. She walked to the doorway and pointed to the far side of the large gym wall. “Straight over there. You can’t miss it.”

  He tossed her a lopsided smile as he walked away, and Shelby took a deep breath. She needed to get herself under control. Tucker was volunteering. Nothing more. And she would do well to remember that.

  * * *

  Tucker forced himself not to glance back at Shelby as he walked toward the supply closet. What had happened in there? Yes, it had been nice to see her sense of humor, but she was so not his type. So, what had that moment been about? That moment where they locked eyes and he felt like she was glimpsing his soul? It must just be the situation. He was out of his element here. His guard had just been down. That was all. Right?

  He opened the supply closet and flicked the light on. The room was tiny, barely larger than a single stall bathroom. One silver rack filled with basketballs, footballs, and volleyballs took up most of the space. Though the rack was full, all of the balls appeared to be low on air. He wondered if they had ever been filled up before, but as he inspected them closer, he realized that wasn’t the issue. These balls were old and worn. He looked around for an air pump and spied an older handheld model in the back corner. It too appeared to have seen better days. He surveyed the rest of the supplies with fresh eyes and realized that everything in the center could stand to be replaced. It was a wonder Shelby was keeping this place open at all.

  He grabbed the air pump in one hand and the silver rack in the other and wheeled it out to the main area. The basketballs were on top, so he started with them. He had just inserted the needle when he heard high-heeled steps behind him.

  “Hey, Tucker, Shelby said you were airing up the balls. Would you like some help?”

  Kenzi wore tight jeans that showed off her toned legs and an oversized sweater today. Her smile was just as bright as it had been on Friday, and he felt himself mirroring her expression. “I’d love that, but there appears to only be one pump.” Her face fell in disappointment, and he hurriedly continued, “But, you could hold the needle in while I pump, and it might go faster.”

  “Sure, I can do that.” She picked up the ball and cradled it in one arm while holding the needle in place with her other hand. Not the way he would have done it, but he supposed it worked.

  “So, I know you said you started working here to help Shelby out, but how long has it been?” he asked as he began pumping the handle.

  “Only for the past year since Shelby became the director. I went to college for a time, but I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. So, I’m taking time off while I decide. I volunteered a few times with Shelby before she took over and enjoyed it; so when she offered me a full-time position, it seemed like a good job until I figure out where I want to go.”

  He took the ball from her and squeezed. It felt full enough, so he removed the needle and bounced it. Satisfied, he placed it back in the rack and handed her the next one. “So, you still don’t know what you want to do?”

  She shrugged. “Not really. I like talking to people and I’d love anything where I could be in the public eye, like a reporter or something. But, I don’t want to jump into anything until I’m really sure. So, for now, I work with Shelby. It pays the bills and allows me to meet people.”

  Tucker couldn’t imagine not knowing what he wanted to do with his life at this age. From the time he’d started playing football his freshman year of high school, he’d known that it was what he wanted to do. But he supposed it happened. He’d attended college with several people who had floated from one major to the next because they couldn’t decide what career path they wanted.

  Still, it was odd how different Shelby and Kenzi were. He’d thought it was just the outside appearance, but evidently it ran deeper. Shelby not only appeared more professional in her attire, but she also seemed to know what she wanted out of life. Whereas Kenzi screamed fun with her tighter, brighter clothing, but he wondered how long the fun would last. Tucker wasn’t sure he was ready to settle down; but when he was, he wanted someone who knew where they were going.

  “Have you always played football?”

  Kenzi’s voice shook him back to the present. She had shelved the second ball and was inserting the needle into the third. “Um, since high school. I began playing my freshman year, and not only did it turn out I was pretty good at it, but it was an escape for me.”

  “An escape?” Tiny wrinkles crossed her forehead as she scrunched her brow. “What did you need to escape from?”

  Tucker opened his mouth to answer, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about his mother’s death. Nor was he sure he wanted to tell Kenzi. He didn’t know why, but he sensed Shelby would understand his pain more than Kenzi would. “Oh, you know, high school angst and all that,” he said instead. “Do you have high school kids who come here?” He couldn’t imagine older kids enjoying time in the center. It was too plain, too outdated.

  “No, most of our kids are elementary and middle school aged.”

  “That makes sense. I suppose that once you can drive, you can take care of yourself.” Or once your mother dies and your father withdraws, he thought to himself.

  “Yeah, it’s too bad more don’t volunteer though. We have one girl, Jennifer, who helps out during breaks and summers, but we could use more. I think teenagers could be great mentors for the younger students, but I remember high school. The last thing I wanted to do was give up my time after school, especially to hang out with younger kids.” She placed the third and last basketball on the shelf and turned to the footballs.

  Tucker eyed the faded and worn pigskin with a frown as she inserted the needle. “Are those all the footballs the center has?”

  “Yeah, Shelby has been wanting to replace them forever, but she hasn’t had the money. Most of what we make pays rent and our salaries. She pays a part-time janitor, but his job is next on the chopping block.” She shrugged. “Replacement equipment just keeps dropping lower on the list.”

  Tucker glanced back at the office where he was sure Shelby sat trying to figure out a way to bring in more money. A sting of something he didn’t recognize tugged at his heart. Pity? No, that wasn’t quite it. Sorrow? He couldn’t even give it a name. All he knew was that he felt for Shelby. She was trying so hard to keep the center open, and she certainly wasn’t doing it for money or fame like most people he knew. In fact, the thought convicted him. Maybe he could do something more to help out. More than just the clinic and volunteering this week.

  7

  Tucker pulled into the stadium parking lot and took a deep breath as he turned off the engine. He couldn’t believe how tired he was already. Unsure if it was due to the early morning or the hours spent with the kids, he feared he would be dragging during practice today. And he didn’t think he could afford to do that. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips as he grabbed his bag of gear off the passenger seat and headed toward the locker room. He would have
to push the exhaustion away and make sure his focus was on practice.

  Practices were normally his favorite time of the day, but now? Not only was he tired, but anxiety gnawed at the back of his brain. It was his first practice since the incident last Thursday, and he didn’t know what to expect. Had Blaine told everyone else about the assault? Had they found out by some other means? Would they treat him differently? It had already been a struggle trying to fit in on this team after the trade; he certainly didn’t need anything else alienating him.

  Tucker glanced at his watch again. He was half an hour early, but he’d planned it that way to make sure he was dressed and ready before anyone else. Now that he had a blemish on his record, he would have to toe the line from here on out or start adding some positive checks to his name to clear the stigma. What better way than to be prepared for practice? He’d had to leave the center a little earlier than he’d planned, but he’d promised Shelby he would return after practice.

  He pulled open the heavy metal door that squeaked loud enough to wake the dead. Someone should really put some oil on it. Perhaps he should add that to his list as a good deed. As he turned the corner to the locker area, he stopped short. He hadn’t expected to see anyone here yet, but there was Blaine, already dressed in his practice jersey and reading a book as he leaned against his locker. Tucker hadn’t really pegged Blaine as a big reader.

  “You get everything ironed out with the center?” Blaine asked as Tucker dropped his bag on the bench that sat between the two rows of lockers.

  “Yeah, the clinic is scheduled for Wednesday night at six, so I may have to leave practice early.” Tucker opened his locker and took out his helmet, setting it next to his bag before unzipping the large duffel and pulling his practice gear out.