Deception
By
G.L. Snodgrass
Copyright 2019 G.L. Snodgrass
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means. This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Other Books by G. L. Snodgrass
Regency Romance
The Reluctant Duke (Love’s Pride 1)
The Viscount's Bride (Love’s Pride 2)
The Earl's Regret (Love’s Pride 3)
Marrying the Marquess (Love’s Pride 4)
Confronting A Rake (A Rake’s Redemption 1)
Charming A Rake (A Rake’s Redemption 2)
Catching A Rake (A Rake’s Redemption 3_
Challenging A Rake (A Rake’s Redemption 4)
Duke In Disguise (The Stafford Sisters 1)
The American Duke (The Stafford Sisters 2)
Young Adult Romance
Certain Rules
Unwritten Rules
Unbreakable Rules
My Favorite Love (Lakeland Boys 1)
One Night (Lakeland Boys 2)
My Brother’s Best Friend (Lakeland Boys 3)
Worlds Apart (Lakeland Boys 4)
My Brother's Bodyguard (Hometown Heroes 1)
My Hidden Hero (Hometown Heroes 2)
My Best Friend’s Brother (Hometown Heroes 3)
My Sister’s Best Friend
Our Secret (The Benson Brothers 1)
Deception
Chapter One
Rebecca
There is a pecking order in high school. And girls like me, plain girls, from poor families, rested at the bottom. We either became quirky and interesting. Or we disappeared into the background. I had chosen the later. It was easier that way.
So, the thought of walking into class late sent a shudder through my body. It was the snickers mixed with looks of pity that frightened me the most.
So, I discarded my defenses and did the one thing that might bring attention to me. I ran through the emptying halls.
Unfortunately, as I rounded the corner, I hit a wall of muscle and bone. As they say, it isn’t the fall that kills you. It is the sudden stop at the end. That was what it felt like. Hitting an unmovable object at full force.
So much for being subtle.
Then, to make it worse. Before I could bounce off, a strong arm wrapped around me. Pulling me close to stop me from falling.
While I sorted out my new situation. I pushed my glasses to the bridge of my nose and looked up. And up. And died inside. Buck Benson. Of all the walls to run into, why did it have to be him?
My heart slammed shut and my mouth refused to work as I tried to come up with some way to make this all disappear. Buck Benson. School God. Top of the food chain. Our entire lives, he had always stood out as bigger, stronger, more popular. The guy everyone liked. The boy the girls whispered about and drooled over.
Even now, he looked down at me with a kind, questioning stare. As if stupid girls ran smack into him every day.
“You okay?” he asked with that voice that sounded like melted chocolate. Smooth and sweet.
All I could think about was the strong arm around me. My chest pressed against his. The way he made me feel small and feminine. These and a hundred other thoughts raced through my head as I desperately fought to think of something to say that didn’t sound stupid.
“Um…” I managed.
He smiled gently, “Okay to let you go?” he asked and my cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I mean,” he continued, “I could hold you all day if that’s what you want. But you seemed in a hurry.”
“No … I mean yes,” I squeaked out, but surprisingly I didn’t make a move to get away from him. It was as if I had forgotten how to think.
He raised a single eyebrow as if he doubted my commitment to standing on my own two feet. Then he smiled softly and slowly released me.
A sense of loss filled me as his strong arm fell away and he stepped back. Then the realization that a dozen other students were staring at us. Mouths agape, eyes dancing with the idea of spreading the story about the stupid girl who threw herself at Buck Benson. Literally.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again. I could tell that he was actually concerned.
“Yes,” I managed to say. “I’m sorry. I should be more careful.”
He laughed. “You can run into my arms anytime, Rebecca.”
My heart stopped beating. He knew my name. and to say something like that. An anger began to build inside of me. How dare he tease me like that. Flirt with me. It was almost cruel.
I once again registered that the stragglers in the hall were eyeing us like we were a circus act they couldn’t believe was happening. My stomach clenched up with fear. What were they going to think? Mouse Girl was trying to catch the Lion King. I could see it in their eyes. Who does she think she is? And how wrong could a girl be?
I stepped back and hastily pulled down at my cardigan to make sure it was in place and then fixed my glasses to make sure they were on straight. All the while trying to come up with some way of exiting gracefully.
He smiled, then slowly ran his eyes over me. A sick kind of thrill-filled me until I remembered what he would see. Long, straight, dull brown hair, frumpy dress with a cardigan sweater, and a girl with glasses. Everything that high school boys despised.
How was this possible? I was standing in the hall flirting with Buck Benson. My father would kill me and every girl in school would laugh their butts off. I’d become the laughing stock of school. Rebecca Montgomery, the girl who actually thought Buck Benson found her attractive.
No. this wasn’t going to happen.
I rushed past him without another word. No way was I letting anyone see me make a fool of myself over Buck Benson. It was bad enough that he had seen me in idiot mode.
Luckily Mrs. Cleaver didn’t give me a tardy slip. One of the benefits of having a spotlessly clean record. Twelve years and I had never been in trouble. I shuddered at the thought. No. that was never going to happen.
I quickly slipped into my seat and tried to calm my racing heart but of course, all I could remember was the feel of Buck Benson’s arm around me. The scent of his cologne. A leathery, wood smoke scent that pulled at my insides. And the way his eyes had looked at me. It was almost as if he saw me. The true me.
Not the frumpy girl behind glasses. Not the quiet, meek girl. Not the girl too afraid to face the world. No, it was as if he saw the real me.
Shaking my head, I pushed it all aside and focused on class.
Of course, within the hour, it was a full rumor flashing through school like a wildfire. Rebecca Montgomery had thrown herself, literally, at Buck Benson.
After class, in the hall, Marla Gould and her cadre of queen bees giggled as they shot me looks and shook their heads.
All I could do was bite my lip and focus forward as I repeatedly beat myself up about what an idiot I was. I mean come on. Couldn’t they see it had been an accident? Did they really think I was the type of girl who chased after Ne
anderthals like Buck Benson?
After all, the guy was so far out of my league that we weren’t even playing the same game. Tall, wide shoulders, handsome in a rough rugged way that pulled at a woman’s heart. Buck Benson, everyone’s friend. The guy the boys wanted to be and the boy the girls wanted.
Luckily, Billy Jones and Tom Evers got into a fight at lunch and my story was soon forgotten. After all, obviously there was no way Buck Benson was interested in me.
Of course, in Sixth Period, my best friend Hanna Summers had to pump me for information.
After I explained what happened, she frowned as her shoulders slumped.
“That’s a shame,” she said as she shook her head. “I thought for a moment that you might finally have snapped. All that oppression released in a wild gesture of desperation.”
“I’m not desperate,” I hissed back at her.
She simply raised an eyebrow. “How could you not be. You’ve barely talked to a boy since I’ve known you.”
My stomach fell. The fact that she was right sent a spear to my gut. I truly was mouse girl. Hiding in the corners. Timid, and of no consequence. But I had my reasons and that was all that was important.
“And when you break through,” she continued, “It is with Buck Benson. I mean, come on, Rebecca. Couldn’t you have started lower and slowly worked your way up to that level?”
All I could do was roll my eyes and turn away. The less I talked, the sooner she’d drop this.
But deep inside of me, I remembered that look of appreciation in Buck Benson’s eyes when he looked at me. Me, Rebecca Montgomery. There had been something there and no one could ever take that away from me.
Within days, the subject was forgotten and lost amongst a thousand other dramas. I had put it aside and settled back down to normal. My fifteen minutes of fame soon forgotten.
I might very well have never talked to Buck Benson ever again if it weren’t for Coach Marshall and my English teacher Miss Parsons. After my last class, she asked me to stay behind for a moment.
Glancing up at the clock I calculated how long before the bus left, then sighed and waited while she adjusted some papers on her desk. I was just about to mention the time crunch when Coach Marshall stepped into the room.
He shot me a quick smile then shot Miss Parsons a questioning look. She stood up and gave him a sweet smile. Not a colleague smile, if you know what I mean. This was ‘I’m happy to see you. Are you happy to see me?’ look.
Interesting, but what was this all about? That bus didn’t wait for anyone.
“I’ll make this quick, Miss Montgomery,” Coach Marshall said. “We need your help.”
I frowned. This was not what I had expected.
“Or more specific,” Coach continued, “one of my players is in need of your help.”
My stomach tightened with sudden trepidation.
“As you probably know, Buck Benson is going to be offered a scholarship at the University of Washington.”
I hadn’t known. It wasn’t like we traveled in the same circles. And what did this have to do with me?
“Unfortunately,” Miss Parson said, “Buck is having difficulty with some of his classes.”
Again, what did this have to do with me?
“He needs tutoring and you would be perfect,” she added quickly.
“What? Why Me?”
Coach smiled as if he had a secret up his sleeve. “Because, Miss Montgomery. We know how much you want to get into the UW.”
“If you think I’m helping him so that UW will have a better football team. That is a little much.”
Miss Parsons smiled. “No, that is what makes this so perfect. The head football coach at UW wants Buck, very badly.”
“I’ll say,” Coach Marshall said. “He’s got the chance to be their best middle linebacker in the last two decades.”
Miss Parsons waved her hand as if that wasn’t the important part. “If Buck doesn’t get better grades, he can’t maintain his eligibility. He won’t get into school.”
“And,” Coach Marshall interjected, “their head coach is willing to write a letter of recommendation to anyone who could help Buck maintain his eligibility.”
“The thing is, Rebecca. With your grades and SAT, you’ll be able to get into UW no problem. But a letter of recommendation like this will really help with scholarships.” Miss Parson added with a large smile.
My world slid to a stop as I tried to wrap my mind around what they were saying. As their words sank in, my stomach turned over. This would never work. My father would never allow it.
“What does Buck think?” I asked as my mind scrambled to put things into place.
Coach Marshall laughed, “He doesn’t have a choice in the matter.
“Where? When?” I asked. My mind was still having difficulty understanding all of the ramifications. Miss Parsons was right. A letter from the university’s head coach would guarantee I’d get scholarship. My Father couldn’t argue with that.
“It would have to be after practice or weekends,” Coach said.
“Or both,” Miss Parson’s added. “You guys would have to come up with a place. The library in town. Your house, his. It doesn’t matter.”
My insides froze. No way was Buck Benson coming to my house. I didn’t even know if I was going to be allowed to do this.
“Can I tell you tomorrow?” I said as my stomach turned over at the thought of broaching this subject with my father.
Both Coach and Miss Parson nodded that it was acceptable.
“I’ve got to go if I’m going to catch the bus,” I said as I started for the door.
“This is important,” Coach said.
“For both of you,” Miss Parsons added.
Yes, but was it even feasible? That was the question.
Chapter Two
Rebecca
If High School had rules. They were nothing compared to my house. Down the list, maybe fourth or fifth was the rule about no talking during the football game. Nothing except, house on fire, broken bones, or pending meteorite strike. Otherwise, it could wait until a commercial.
As I put away the last dish from dinner, I sent up a silent prayer thanking the powers that be that it was Thursday night, which meant football. Which meant my dad might be in a good mood.
I dried my hands, shot mom a quick smile and stepped into the living room. As I expected, my two brothers sat on the couch and Dad was in his recliner, feet up, a beer in his hand.
Making sure not to step in front of them during a play, I made my way to sit on the far end of the couch. Both of my brothers frowned, obviously wondering what I was doing there. In their minds. It wasn’t a parade or America’s Got Talent. So why was I interested.
I ignored them. Apes with weak brains. It was my father I needed to worry about.
Don’t get me wrong. He wasn’t a bad father. He worked hard on a road crew. And picked up extra hours at the lumber yard on weekends. He almost never yelled, especially not at me. He loved my mom and treated her well. It was just that he was strict when it came to his one and only daughter. If he had his way, I would have been locked up in a tower somewhere. And the key would have been lost years ago.
My stomach rolled over as I desperately fought to think of some way to broach the subject. Inside, I was torn. The thought of tutoring Buck Benson scared me to my very core. But the thought of that letter of recommendation. It was too important.
Then, the TV gave me my in when the announcer mentioned something about the middle linebacker just as they went into commercial.
“What is a middle linebacker?” I asked.
All three of them shifted slowly to stare at me as if I had just dropped in from a distant planet. I didn’t know if they were surprised because it was a dumb question or because it was me asking it.
Dad frowned for a moment, then said, “He runs the defense, calls the plays, makes sure everyone is in the right place. Then, leads the charge to stop the offense from moving the ball.�
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I nodded as I realized that sounded like the perfect role for Buck Benson. In the middle of things and in charge.
“Why?” my brother Bobby asked. I could have hugged him for setting me up.
“Oh, our coach mentioned our middle linebacker and I wondered…”
“You mean Buck Benson?” my dad said.
My heart dropped. How did my dad know about Buck Benson? What? Did all the fathers with daughters pass around a list of boys to be aware of?
He saw my confusion. “The kid’s probably going to the University of Washington. You don’t think we wouldn’t know when one of our own makes it. Besides, they broadcast your school’s games on the access channel.”
“You watch those?” I said with disbelief. My father had never asked about my school. I always just assumed Mom kept him filled in on my grades.
“Sure,” he said as he took a long swig of his beer. “It’s football.”
I started to shake my head then stopped instantly. Dad did not take well to criticism.
“Again, why are you interested?” Bobby asked me as he gave me a strange look.
Shrugging my shoulders, I said, “Because he might not get into college because of his grades.”
“What?” Dad demanded as he lowered his footrest and focused on me.
Here it goes, I thought as I took a deep breath. “Yeah, the coach was saying how he is in danger of not getting in. That is why he, the coach, sort of … asked me to tutor him, Buck, I mean.”
“No way,” my other brother Brian said with shock.
The commercial ended but no one was paying attention to the game anymore. Suddenly, I had become the center of their world.
Bobby shook his head.
But it was my dad who I focused on. “Why you?” he asked with a deep frown.
“George,” my mom said as she stepped in from the hall. “I’ve told you. Your daughter is smart.”
Dad waved his hand then surprised me by saying. “I know that. She’s one of the smartest people I know. What I want to know is why would she do it. She doesn’t care about football. And it would be a lot of extra time. Why? Is it because it is Buck Benson?”
Deception (The Benson Brothers Book 3) Page 1