She smiled. “I suddenly felt like sitting. This is the only place, unless you wouldn’t mind me sitting on the hood of your car.”
Joe winced, and she snorted.
“That’s what I thought. So let’s talk. Have a seat.”
“On that?” He glanced suspiciously at the modest strap of canvas hooked between two chains. “I don’t think so.”
“Suit yourself.” She pushed off again, and the swing swung higher. “Talk.”
What had he planned to talk about? Oh, yeah—the bet he’d just been snookered into making.
“Why do you want the varsity coaching job so bad?”
She’d been leaning back in the swing, staring at the stars. At his question her head jerked upright and her eyes narrowed. “None of your business.”
She looked embarrassed, and Joe wondered for a minute if she had money trouble. But what good would a coaching job next year do her if she needed money now? Besides, according to the local grapevine, her husband had died in an accident, which meant insurance money of some sort, not to mention her full-time job.
No, the reason had to be her competitive nature. Since Joe was competitive, too, he understood, and although he had sworn off competitive women, he had to say this one intrigued him. Arguing with her made him feel more alive than he’d felt since leaving the playing field.
But while he was attracted to her, she seemed to despise him, and he was curious why.
Joe had never been one to beat around the bush, so he asked, “What have you got against me?”
“Me?” She appeared genuinely surprised at the question. “Nothing.”
She continued to swing. Joe was becoming nauseated, so he stepped forward, caught the chains and stopped the swing mid-flight.
“Hey, what’re you doing?” She jumped off, bumping her chin against his chest. The sharp intake of her breath echoed in the stillness. The way she held herself, with an aura of awareness that almost hummed from her body to his, made Joe think that perhaps she didn’t despise him so much, after all.
He should step back, he knew, far enough so he could see her face but not so far that she could run off again.
Yeah, he should. But for some reason he couldn’t move. The warmth of her body, even in the heat of the summer night, called to a chill within him—a chill that had been there for a very long time.
She smelled so good—he’d noticed that about her the very first day. But on that day she’d smelled of Ivory soap; tonight she smelled like wild-cherry pie. The full moon shone on her hair like a spotlight, making the dark cap glimmer. If he wanted, he could lower his cheek and rub his mouth along the top of her head, feel the softness of her hair against his lips. If he wanted… What was he thinking, if he wanted? He wanted—bad.
When had his hands come up to cup her moon-kissed shoulders? Didn’t matter. His hands were there, caressing her arms, learning the contours of her skin with his palms.
“Joe?” she whispered, and her breath blew along the exposed flesh at the open collar of his shirt. His body hardened and his hands tightened. He stepped back that single step, and when she raised her mouth, no doubt to tell him to go straight to blazes—he kissed her, right there in the playground.
They say in the seconds before you die, your entire life flashes before you. Evie didn’t know about that, and hoped she would not find out soon, but she did discover that when you’re sexually deprived, every fantasy you’ve ever had about a certain annoying, intriguing man flashes through your mind the first time he kisses you.
She’d lost her train of thought when his big hands touched her bare shoulders. Those hands skimmed her arms, as if he wanted to memorize the texture of her skin with his palms. His mouth tasted hers, softly at first, with a gentleness to those firm lips that made her heart stutter and dip. There was something about a rough, gruff, gentle man that did wicked things to a woman’s insides.
If she didn’t hold on, she’d fall. If she didn’t touch him, she’d go mad. So she slipped her hands around his waist, her fingers encountering rock-hard muscle wherever they brushed. His shirt had a silky sheen and rubbed between her fingers and his flesh with a sexy slide.
He moaned against her mouth, and his hands went from gentle on her arms to demanding upon her back. Pulling her closer, he deepened the kiss, his tongue lining the seam of her mouth, sending a sharp trill of dangerous desire down her spine.
Her lips opened. His questing tongue slid along her teeth, met, mated and retreated from her own. He enticed her into his mouth, where they played an arousing game of hide-and-seek.
The man knew what to do with that mouth of his. She could not recall ever being so excited by a single kiss. He had not moved his hands from her back, though his clever fingers soothed the knots from her shoulders in such a skillful, enticing way that she moaned with pleasure from that, as well as from the heat of his lips and the glide of his tongue.
Wherever this desperate need and yearning hunger had come from, it was too strong to deny. It had been so long since she’d felt anything beyond duty and responsibility and pressure to be the best mommy in town.
Evie stiffened. Mommy. What was she thinking? What was she doing?
She tore her mouth from his, and he took the opportunity to nibble her jaw, then nuzzle her neck. She nearly melted right back against his lips.
“Stop,” she muttered. Her voice sounded unconvincing, even to her ears, but he pulled back.
Then he lifted his head and his icy eyes stared into hers. “Stop?” His voice, hoarse and sexy, made her insides twist. The man sounded as if he’d just spent three days in bed—without sleeping one of them. “Why?”
Evie pushed against his shoulders. He let her go, and she slipped out of his reach. The sultry night turned cold.
She glanced around furtively and breathed a sigh of relief to find they were still alone. She could just imagine what would happen if news of this got around.
Evie winced as a sportscaster’s voice filled her mind: Big League manager caught playing footsie with Iceman Scalotta on playground just minutes after challenging Iceman to a duel of teams. Will the decision be made on the diamond or in the bedroom?
“Evie?” Joe’s voice was no longer hoarse and sexy, but confused and annoyed.
She looked back at him. He stood on one side of the swing, leaving her on the other. His mouth still shone wet and his shirt tangled half in and half out of his pants. He was so appealing that she wanted to shove the swing aside and haul his mouth back on hers.
Where would that lead?
The shiver that passed over Evie made the hair on her arms stand up. Her breasts tightened; her nipples hardened, rubbing against the cotton sundress in a movement that was both pain and pleasure, yet unbelievably arousing.
Joe took a step forward, and Evie put out a hand, palm facing him. “No. You stay over there.”
“Why?”
“Just do it, hotshot. I can’t think when you hover over me.”
That made him smile in a satisfied, male way, which made Evie want to smack him. But to smack him she’d have to touch him, and right now touching would be a very bad idea.
“I’m going home,” she said.
“I’ll drive you.”
“No!”
She wanted nothing less than to be caught in a small, enclosed space with Scalotta. That would also be very bad.
“I swear I’ll drive slow and easy.”
“I don’t care if you drive slower than a tricycle. I’m not going anywhere with you tonight.”
“I suppose you want me to apologize for kissing you. I won’t do that.”
“And why not?”
“Because I’m not sorry. I want to do it again. Right now.”
He yanked the swing to the side, but before he could step toward her, she ran.
She wasn’t proud of it, but she had little choice. She’d just learned something. There were things much more dangerous than stray cats out and about in Oak Grove at night.
&nb
sp; *
Chapter Nine
Joe thought about the bet and the kiss all the way home. Mostly the kiss. He hadn’t kissed, or been kissed, that thoroughly for a very long time.
Though Evie was petite, she was not frail. She might only come up to his chest, but the muscles he’d traced with his fingertips had been firm, real, worked for on a field and not at a health club.
The breasts that had tickled his chest were real, too. Joe snorted. As though Evie would have had a boob job. She’d bloody his nose for the thought alone. And he’d deserve it.
To be honest, she always seemed taller—with her confidence, her opinions, and that mouth that told him where to go and gave him directions how to get there. But when he’d had her in his arms, he’d felt how tiny she was, and he’d wanted to hold her close and protect her from all the big, bad bogeymen of the world.
She’d laugh in his face if he told her that. If there was a woman on earth who did not need him to take care of her, that woman was Evie Vaughn.
Why should that bother him? Because he needed to be needed? Karen had never needed him, or wanted him—not after that first year. Her rejection had hurt. More than he had ever admitted to himself or anyone else.
Evie was the same way. She needed no one, least of all Joe Scalotta. She’d shown him that when she’d coolly stopped their embrace mid-kiss.
Joe had been lost in the wonder and heat of her. She’d tasted so sweet, felt so soft, smelled so good. When she’d yanked herself away, his hands had itched to yank her right back. When she’d run off into the night, leaving him alone beneath the moon, his gut had clenched so hard that he ached. Was it from denied passion or the eternal loneliness that threatened him every night after Toni fell asleep?
The sight of the Vaughn station wagon still parked in the driveway made the memories of a magical kiss leave Joe’s body like air freed from a balloon. He was even less happy when a glance at the front windows revealed a darkened living room. At least the silver shadows of the television screen chased across the ceiling. If they hadn’t, he would have run inside—rather than walking very fast.
Joe slammed the door, hoping that if there was any necking going on it would stop before he walked in. He didn’t know what he’d do if he caught Adam with his hands and mouth where they did not belong. Especially since Joe’s hands and mouth had just been where they didn’t belong on Adam’s mother.
Joe winced. That sounded bad, even to him. But what had happened between Evie and him had not been bad—it had been one of the best things to hap-pen to him in years. He could still feel the remnants of sexual arousal deep within.
Why her? Why now?
Stepping into the doorway of the living room, Joe pushed aside philosophical questions to deal with the problem at hand. He scanned the occupants. They sat on the same couch, but not on the same side. They did not look guilty. But that didn’t mean they weren’t.
“Hello, Mr. Scalotta.” Adam stood.
Joe nodded, proud when he kept the growl in his throat from coming out of his mouth.
“Hey, Joe.” Toni wore shorts that covered less of her than her nightgown had, and a tank top without a bra. The growl broke free, but before he could follow up with words, Toni spoke, and Joe’s train of thought disappeared.
“You and Coach Vaughn are getting to be the main source of entertainment in this town.”
“You heard? How?” The grapevine in Oak Grove worked faster than CNN.
“News.” She pointed at the television. “You just missed it.”
“News?” He eyed his watch, which read 9:10. He’d been on that playground longer than he’d thought, but not long enough for the evening news to come on. On the East Coast they had news at eleven, so here it should be at ten. Shouldn’t it? “They interrupted for a bulletin?”
“You weren’t that important, though you were the lead story. The news is at nine here. Farmers don’t stay up until ten.”
“Don’t they have any murders or robberies or kidnappings to report?”
Adam laughed, then swallowed the sound when Joe’s gaze swung toward him. “Nothing like that in Oak Grove. The last thing missing was Cory Radway’s mountain bike.”
“Jeez, Joe, what were you thinking to make a bet like that with Adam’s mom?” Toni asked.
Joe shrugged and flicked on the light. The teens blinked in the glare, and Adam inched nearer to Toni. Joe came into the room, debated squeezing between the two, and decided such a move would just be too obvious. So he sat in his recliner, close enough to grab Adam if he needed to.
“Seemed the thing to do at the time,” he said. “Don’t worry, honey. I doubt my team will get too far ahead.”
Toni started laughing. “She’s gonna smear you, Joe. We all are. It’ll be embarrassing.”
Joe was speechless. His daughter was taking the other side. Then he realized—his daughter was the other side. What had he done, and how was he going to get out of this mess?
The phone rang, blaring in the momentary silence. All three of them jumped.
Toni answered, then held the phone out to Joe. “It’s for you. Steve Jameson.” She smirked. “He saw the news.”
Joe sighed and reached for the phone, then tried to pay attention to what his boss, the athletic director of Oak Grove Community College, was telling him, as his daughter and that boy went outside to say good-night on the porch.
“Joe, what’s this I hear about you getting involved in a little excitement tonight?”
“Uh, I don’t know.” Joe got up and moved to the front window. “What did you hear?”
Through amazing feats of contortion that stretched his back muscles in ways they hadn’t been stretched for years, Joe discovered he could see the front porch quite well. And he didn’t even have to twitch the curtains as his mom always had. A perfect little opening existed.
“Joe?”
He put his ear back to the phone and ended up tapping the glass with the earpiece. The sound seemed to echo throughout the house, and no doubt throughout the neighborhood. Wincing, Joe pulled back from his 007 position.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m here. What was that?”
“I said, it’s a pretty smart move on your part to get in with the local media. And this bet with the teacher is pure brilliance. It’s a human interest angle everyone will eat up like candy. Even though I had to fight to hire you, the way things are going, I’ll be proved the smarter guy in the end.”
Joe had been trying to peer through the curtains again, but as Steve’s words registered, he straightened and devoted his attention to the conversation. “What do you mean you had to fight to hire me?”
Steve cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “Well, I guess it isn’t a secret that most folks here wanted a teacher for this job and not a professional athlete.”
“It was a secret to me. I do have a degree, you’ll recall.”
“Now, Joe—”
The voice was condescending, and Joe’s teeth clenched.
“—everyone knows how athletes get degrees.”
Joe counted to ten. Just because he was big, and he’d played football, everyone assumed he was dumber than the nearest rock. He had finished college, and he’d earned his degree.
“I am qualified to coach. I have a degree in physical education, and I trained for just this job.”
“You did?”
Joe’s lips tightened. The guy hadn’t even read his resume? He had done pretty well in college, considering he’d been on the road half the time, traveling to and from games, and practicing another quarter of the time. People always assumed college athletes were morons, but the truth was that a lot of them just couldn’t manage the schedule.
“Never mind, Joe. I was right. You’re a media dream boy. You’ll bring the fans out in droves. If you can do it for a T-ball game, you can do it for football. That’s what we need. People. Ticket sales. Money for the program.”
“You hired me to be your dog-and-pony show?” Joe had spent most of his adul
t life as an exhibit of some kind. As much as he loved football, sometimes he’d felt like a circus animal more than a man. It stung to find out that the job he’d thought he’d gotten on the merits of his talent and education had been given to him so he could be another main attraction.
“Nothing like that!” Steve assured him—too fast to be telling the truth. “You’re the coach. We’ve got an up-and-coming team. I hired you because I thought you were the best one for the job.”
“I am.” Joe hesitated. He could quit right now. He didn’t need the money. But he’d signed the contract, and he’d never reneged on an agreement in his life. How would such behavior look to Toni? As though he were caving in when the going got tough, that was how.
Besides, the way news traveled around here, his contract disagreement with Oak Grove Community College would be on the Channel 8 breakfast edition the next day. He doubted he and his daughter would then be as welcome in town as they had been.
Deep down Joe really, really wanted to use the degree he’d worked so hard for all those years ago. To back out would not only look bad, but would probably keep him from getting another job for quite a while. He and Toni would have to move. He didn’t want to do that to her. She seemed to like it here.
That thought made Joe lean forward and twist again—just in time to see Adam jog down the walk toward his car. Well, the kid couldn’t very well have ravaged her on the doorstep in that short space, but Joe was still annoyed he’d allowed himself to be distracted from his parental responsibilities.
Steve continued to talk, fast and furiously. “Truly, Joe, we want you here. You’ll be great. The fact that you have a degree is only icing on the cake. I apologize. I should have told you that you’re our last chance to save the football program at OGCC, but I was afraid you’d back out if you knew how important it was.”
“Why would I have backed out?”
“Uh, well…” Steve stopped talking, and the line buzzed with an uncomfortable silence.
“Just say it, Steve. I’m a big guy.”
“Your rep, Joe. All that Wildman stuff in the papers. Your divorce. Your daughter raised by nannies. People frown on that around here.”
Out of Her League Page 9