by Jean Oram
And wear something cute? What was that about?
Fiona took in Carly’s confusion and nodded knowingly.
“Well, are you going to fill the poor girl in before Jackie changes her life?” Garfield asked.
“I don’t think I will,” Fiona said with a calm smile, and Carly felt a flicker of anticipation. But she wasn’t sure if it was something she welcomed or dreaded.
“No way. There is no way I am going down there and elbowing my way into helping the team,” Carly said, as Jackie gave Sheriff Conroy Johnson a little wave as they made their way across the football field. Behind them it seemed as though half the town was sitting in the bleachers, waiting for the game to begin. Jackie was moving like she owned the field, not taking Carly’s no for an answer.
“They need someone to keep stats.” Jackie shrugged when Carly gave her a stern look. “You said you follow football.”
“This is a playoff game.” Surely they had an experienced stats-taker who knew the players and was ready to help the coaches figure out who was playing their best tonight and who wasn’t, information that could make the difference between a win and a loss. They didn’t need two dolled-up women pretending they belonged there.
Carly had been dressed in jeans and a warm jacket, but when Jackie rolled up in her cute sports car, she’d made her change into a denim skirt with leggings underneath.
“Exactly. Playoffs are important,” Jackie said, still marching.
“Which means they need someone who has taken stats this century.”
“Oh, you’re not that old.” Jackie laughed. Along the sidelines, she picked up a tablet sitting on top of a medical sports bag and flicked it on, then pushed it into Carly’s hands and pointed to an open stats-taking app. The team’s players were already listed, along with their numbers. Easy.
“But…” Carly said, as Jackie propelled her from behind, directing her toward the huddle of people along the sidelines as the Torpedoes took to the field for a warm-up. The crowd in the bleachers cheered, and the cheerleaders danced and tumbled along to music.
There was nothing as exciting as Friday night football in a small Texas town. And no better way to get off on the wrong foot with Sweetheart Creek than to butt into the game like she belonged here.
“They have me taking stats, and I get caught up in other things,” Jackie explained. “Please help me. You said you’ve done this before.”
Carly hesitated. If Jackie Moorhouse was in charge and actually needed her help, that was different from the two of them honing in as though wanting attention. “Are you sure?”
“Yup.” Jackie was propelling her forward again, and Carly focused on the cluster of men ahead. Tall and broad-shouldered, they all looked like ex-football players. Two of them wore red-and-white windbreakers with Coach written across the backs in fat black letters.
“Hey, Ryan,” Jackie called.
Carly’s feet stopped moving as one of the jacketed men turned.
It was him. Ryan Wylder.
The guy she had been kissing in her stable every single day this week.
Planting the seeds from the hardware store had kept her distracted from thinking about Ryan for about five seconds.
Then again, he seemed to show up on her ranch fairly often. More than the once a day he’d promised. Maybe he was experiencing the same distractions she was.
“Carly’s here to take stats for you,” Jackie said sweetly. “Have you two met?”
Ryan glanced from the grinning woman to Carly, then back again. He nodded slowly, then inhaled with the same careful patience, eyes drifting shut as though he was bracing himself, before his gaze flicked to the tablet clutched in Carly’s hands.
She froze to the spot. Something was up, and she had a feeling it had to do with Garfield’s comment in the diner, that Jackie would somehow change her life by bringing her here.
“If I’m taking someone’s job,” Carly started to say, holding out the tablet, her discomfort growing by the moment, “I can—”
“Nonsense,” Jackie stated, grabbing her arm as though afraid she might bolt. “You’re my helper.”
Ryan and Jackie silently faced off, Ryan stormy, Jackie’s long lashes blinking innocently.
Carly kissing Ryan wasn’t public knowledge, and while she knew she was just a blip in his life, like he was in hers, seeing him so reserved felt like a blow. Did he not want to be seen with her? Was it a good-old-country-boy thing kicking into gear? In her stable, his kisses were always warm, his caresses gentle and sure. And the way he seemed to peer inside her soul left her on a high for the rest of the day. But seeing him like this proved just how unspecial she was. It hurt, thinking about how certain he’d been when they’d discussed not making their kissing into a thing. He was ashamed of her, wasn’t he?
“Really,” Carly said in a hushed voice, “I should go.”
Ryan nodded in the direction of his brother Myles, the other man in a coach jacket, then turned away as he said, “He’ll set you up. I’ve got to get these players ready.”
Jackie had a secure grip on Carly’s elbow and began moving toward Myles. As they passed Ryan, Jackie cheerfully called over her shoulder, “You look cute in that jacket, Ryan.”
Carly dared to turn to see his reaction. His back was to them, his focus on the field, but she could see his profile, his jaw flexing, his attention fixed with an intensity that caused her to shiver.
What had they told her in the diner? That Ryan was afraid of Jackie? Why? Was it possible this was about Jackie, and not her? And why did she feel such a bright ray of hope at that idea?
“So very cute,” Jackie said loudly. “Don’t you think so, Carly?” She bumped her shoulder against Carly’s in a companionable manner.
Carly frowned as Ryan’s jaw tightened even further.
“Did you two used to date?” she asked.
Jackie laughed, not answering.
Myles, hearing Jackie’s laughter, turned to face them with a grin.
“Hey, big guy.” Jackie gave him a full-watt smile and fluttered her lashes. She looked way too pleased with herself.
Myles shook his head with amusement. “You’ll send him to an early grave, you know that, right?”
“Who, me?”
“You’re doing stats with Jackie?” Myles asked, taking the tablet from Carly. He slid a finger up and around the screen a few times before handing it back.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve done this,” she replied.
“But she knows how,” Jackie stated. She added louder, “She used to follow football.”
“Yeah?” Myles asked with interest. “Who’s your favorite team?”
“The Dallas Cowboys, of course,” Carly said with a scoff, as though there was any other team worth cheering for.
Myles chuckled, and she noted that Ryan turned to scowl at them.
She shivered and lowered her voice to ask, “Is he always like this?”
“Only on game day.” Myles caught Jackie’s eye and there was that in-cahoots grin of hers again. “Or when Jackie brings a friend to games.”
“Should I not be here?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just make sure we win,” Myles said with another grin, while glancing toward his brother.
Wait. Were they trying to set her up with Ryan? She found her attention drifting his way. He was fully in charge along the edge of the field, calling over players, his focus complete.
“The town will bury these guys alive if they lose,” Jackie commented.
“Nobody yells at the stats keeper,” Myles said lightly. “Just let us know who drops the ball, who catches it and all that stuff, and we’ll love you forever.”
Ryan turned to scowl at them again, his dazzling blue eyes stormy, his hands on his hips. “Myles, are you focusing on this warm-up or what?”
“Or what. I’ll be there in a jiff.” He gave Carly a gentle pat on the back, directing her to chairs set up near the players’ bench, where she and Jackie would have
an unobstructed view of the field. “Take good care of her, Jackie.”
“You know I will.”
As Carly sat with the tablet in her lap, listening to the boys shouting terse commands to each other in their deep voices, she felt the familiar thrill of the game.
“Do you want the tablet?” she asked, hoping Jackie would take the lead on collecting stats.
“My job is to look cute. Just keep track of the stuff Myles mentioned.”
Carly frowned at her. “Your job is to look cute?”
“So you like Ryan?”
Carly felt her entire being heat at the mention of his name. She reached for the tablet and focused on learning the nuances of the app.
“What’s with the wedding band?” Jackie pointed to the ring on her finger.
Carly shifted her hand to hide it under the tablet. She knew the question would come, but hadn’t expected it to be so point-blank.
“Are you married?”
“Widowed,” Carly murmured.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” she said, surprising herself, and causing Jackie to inhale sharply. “Sorry. You just truly learn who a person is after they pass away.”
“Really?” Carly could see Jackie was thinking about that. She got the impression the woman liked to play the innocent, slightly ditzy flirt, but underneath she was one of those solid, loyal people who made the best kind of friend.
“Peter didn’t leave me in a strong financial position. He hadn’t been honest about… a lot of things,” Carly said, using a vague umbrella to encompass all the ways her husband had betrayed her.
“That really sucks.”
“Yeah.”
They were silent for a long moment, Carly tapping the app, testing it, making sure she knew how to account for certain plays as well as delete her stats in case she hit the wrong thing during the excitement of the game.
“You know…” Jackie began thoughtfully, then closed her mouth.
“What?” Carly asked, looking up at her. Jackie had freckles scattered across her nose, giving her a fresh, innocent look, and Carly briefly wondered if she’d ever had her heart broken.
She was frowning in Ryan’s direction, and curiosity clawed at Carly. The way he stood there, tall and in command, his arms held loosely at his sides, he seemed every bit the cowboy, coach and quiet fighter she was beginning to know him as. He had a lean, athletic build that was a tighter version of his brother Myles’s, who was strong and muscular. In a fight, Myles would win on strength, Ryan on agility and speed.
“Nothing.” Jackie gave her head a brief shake, then opened her mouth again, closed it and shook her head once more.
“Well, you have to tell me now,” Carly said, feeling annoyed and immensely curious.
“I just get the feeling that Ryan…” She stopped again, seemingly frustrated with her inability to put words to her thoughts and feelings.
Ryan stood in a huddle with two players who, judging by their jersey numbers, were his quarterbacks. He rested his head against their helmets as he murmured to them, and his stance made him seem part parental figure, part confidant and support network. Plotter and schemer. Winner.
“He’s a good man,” Jackie said, “and he’s not quick to show how he feels. Still waters and all that.”
Carly got the impression her new friend was bailing out, deciding not to reveal whatever it was she knew about him.
“You feel he has secrets?” Carly suggested. “And that those secrets have changed who he is?”
Jackie turned her head, her eyes meeting Carly’s in understanding. “Exactly.”
No way. There was no way Ryan was falling for Jackie’s plan. Because she surely had one, and he, Ryan Wylder, was in the crosshairs once again. Why else would she appear with the woman Ryan hadn’t stopped thinking about all week? And Jackie, who had a history of magical matchmaking skills revolving around football games, hadn’t just brought Carly to the game, she had brought her right down onto the field, so she was less than twenty feet away from him.
He was supposed to be coaching, concentrating on his players and the game, not on this breathtaking woman who was now officially part of his team. He wasn’t supposed to be worrying about Jackie’s legendary status as matchmaker and whether it had merit. Or whether he was about to find himself in a committed relationship because of it.
Ryan glanced over at Dan, his team manager, who was passing out water bottles to the players who’d been subbed off the field. He smiled at Carly as she looked up after recording the latest play in her stats app. Dan gave her a thumbs-up, obviously delighted by her presence. Ryan’s heartbeat quickened, and he turned his attention back to the field, clenching his clipboard.
Dan.
What if Jackie had brought Carly here to hook up with Dan?
Ryan rubbed the knot at the base of his neck and rolled his head from side to side. He didn’t like that idea any more than getting in deep with Carly himself.
“Did you see that?” Myles asked, his tone incredulous, arms spread wide. “He was open. We need to call a time-out and get their heads back on straight. They’re not even trying.”
Ryan scanned the field, annoyed that he’d missed whatever had upset Myles. He checked the clock. They were already halfway through the first half and he felt like he’d missed most of it. “You lead the huddle.”
Catching one of the official’s attention, he signaled for a time-out.
Their players jogged off field, gathering in a circle around the two coaches. Myles, his cheeks flushed, barked out orders, glancing at Ryan every once in a while as though unsure if he should continue taking the lead. Ryan’s brother was neck-deep in a coaching course, adding a layer of technical skills to his already natural coaching instincts. Ryan usually led the huddle, but this time he kept his right arm across his stomach, his left fist propping up his chin, remaining silent so the boys would know to listen to Myles.
Partway through Myles’s rant, Ryan backed out of the huddle, waving for Carly’s tablet. “Stats.”
The tablet, warm from her grip, nestled into his hands and he frowned at the screen, trying to focus on the figures in front of him.
He was good at this. Football was his thing. Seeing patterns, sensing opportunities. He did it here on the field and in the classroom. He did it with his investment and business dealings. He even did it with his cockamamie inventions. He hadn’t created and sold an app that had netted him almost a quarter million dollars, by allowing some woman to get into his head and keep him distracted. That had happened after the riches poured in.
So what was his deal today? Why couldn’t he engage with this important game? Did football no longer matter to him?
He lifted his head and stared at the scoreboard.
Football had always mattered.
“Hernandez has been throwing great,” Carly said, her words barely registering even though the surrounding sounds faded, his focus narrowing in on her. “Long passes into the open, but your receivers aren’t fast enough to get there.” She was standing beside him, the scent of soil, hay and fresh Texas air intensifying as she edged closer. She smelled familiar, like family and childhood. Good times. Good memories. Long before life got complicated. Could his life ever unwind into something so simple once again?
“Which receivers?” he asked, his brain snapping into gear.
“All of them. Except Wiggins. His strength is faking out his blocker and getting to where he needs to be. But his receiving needs work. He hasn’t been catching those long passes at gut level. His hands are too far from his body and he’s fumbling.”
Ryan felt his jaw slacken with admiration and surprise. Not only was Carly the best kisser he’d ever met, the most challenging and invigorating woman to tangle with, she also knew football. That was a quality he wouldn’t mind having in a girlfriend.
Not that he wanted one.
Although maybe having a girlfriend who knew football would be nice.
What was he thinking
? Priscilla had known football and it hadn’t worked out for them. Not at all.
“We’ve been telling him that all season,” Ryan said, blinking twice to get his thoughts back on track again.
Carly had moved closer so they could look at the app together. Her arms were pulled tight to her chest to block the wind coming over the field, her head close to his. He caught Jackie smiling at them.
She hadn’t brought Carly for Dan.
“Tell Wiggins again,” Carly said. “He could shift things. I mean, you’re winning, but…”
“But how we’re playing won’t get us a win at State.” He pivoted to face Carly head-on, taking a moment to drink in her beauty. He lowered his voice so the crew around them wouldn’t hear, while glancing at Jackie again, who was still smiling as if she knew something. “You know we aren’t doing anything serious. You and I? We’re not telling the world about us.”
Her jaw slackened for a second or two, then her eyes flared with fire as she said with a hint of disgust, “Get your head in the game, Coach.”
He let out a chuckle, reminded once more why he liked Carly so much. “Okay, stats keeper. But I warn you…” He pointed his finger in an attempt to be stern, but was unable to hold back his smile. “…if you continue giving me tips like this, I’m going to keep you.”
Carly’s chest expanded with a sudden inhale and Ryan froze. He hadn’t meant it like that.
“Honestly, I think you should.” She gave him a sly wink that was flirtatious, confident and a tiny bit smug. It was the sexiest thing he’d seen in years. “But when you make it official, make sure you spell my name right on the sleeve of my team jacket. Clarke with an E on the end.” She winked, taking back the tablet and tucking it into the crook of her arm. “I’ll straighten out this team for you in no time.”
Ryan laughed as she walked away, until he saw Jackie’s grin from her spot in the chair next to Carly’s empty one.
He squared his shoulders and pointed at her. “I’m not doing this. You hear me? I am not doing this. Your mojo magic doesn’t work on me. I’m immune.”