Joe winced. “I frowned on it myself.”
“I realize it’s none of my business. No one’s business. But your image isn’t that of a responsible public figure. Will you stick if things get tough?”
Joe sighed. He should have considered all those years ago what effect the press would have on his future. But he’d been too busy being Iceman—the Wildman—Scalotta. Now he wanted to change. He had changed, but no one believed him. So he would have to make people believe him by being what he had always wanted to be—a man just like his father.
“I hear you, Steve. But times have changed. I plan to put down roots here and be a pillar in this community. When things get tough, I’m going to be your man.”
“Great.” Steve’s voice was too cheerful, downright hearty, annoyingly fake. He didn’t believe Joe, either. And he didn’t care… as long as Joe did his job—which was bringing people back to football at OGCC. Well, he’d do that job by being the best darn coach they’d ever had, by making the team all that it could be. That didn’t necessarily mean winning, either—something he was learning by coaching the little ones in T-ball. But he wasn’t going to share his philosophy with old Steve.
The outside door opened, then shut. Toni appeared in the entryway of the living room with a dreamy look on her face that made Joe’s teeth grind.
“Thanks for calling, Steve. I’ll be in touch.” With his eyes on his daughter, Joe hung up on Steve’s continued assurances that Joe Scalotta was the best thing to hit Oak Grove since cable television.
His main worry was Toni. Not OGCC, not football, not baseball, not even his own stupid mistakes. Just Toni. Joe was going to do everything in his power to guarantee Toni did not make the same mistakes he had.
Which meant Joe wasn’t going to make any more mistakes, either. What had happened between him and Coach Mom tonight would not be repeated. He’d screwed up by following the pull of his body and ignoring what was sensible, responsible and right.
He had come to Oak Grove to start a new life: raise Toni, get married, create a family. He was not going to get involved with a woman who was everything he did not want in a wife.
No matter how good she tasted. No matter how easily she fit in his arms. No matter how much he wanted her back there.
Because if he did that he’d be just the kind of guy everyone thought he was. The kind of guy he’d always been.
The kind of guy he’d determined never to be again.
Evie lay in her solitary bed and thought solitary thoughts. The twins were gone, and Adam had long since come home, shouted good-night and shut his door. She might want to call him in and quiz him on his relationship with Toni, but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. If she didn’t trust him the first time trust was called for, he’d never trust her again.
Whatever you teach them during the first ten years lays the groundwork for the rest of their lives. That was the motto of Evie’s father, and he was a very wise man, not to mention an excellent small-town cop. Of course, Dad had never been able to explain those kids who had horrible childhoods but turned out fine and dandy, or the kids who became serial killers while their parents frowned and mumbled, “He was such a nice boy.”
For the most part, Evie believed what her father had preached, which only made her more nervous where Adam was concerned. Because Adam had been eleven when Ray died, and Ray had been one big disaster—as a man, a husband, and particularly as a father. Still, if Adam were going to follow in Ray’s idiot footsteps, Evie figured she’d have seen some indication of it before now.
Sighing, she turned over and stared at the ceiling. She could still hear Adam moving around in his room, but the sounds were comforting. She was not completely alone in the house, yet the near quiet was bliss.
Instead of lying here, not sleeping, she should probably be doing some of the things she could not do when the twins were around: like reading a book that would rot her mind instead of improve it—though she rarely had time to read improving books, either—or paint her toenails, or take a bubble bath.
But in her present state she would not be able to read; she’d only stare at the book and think of ice-blue eyes heavy with desire. She’d paint her ankle, not her toenails, while she thought of moonlit nights. In the bathtub she would imagine big hands sliding over wet skin, lips following the trail, bodies naked, writhing, warm, wet and—
“Doggone it!” Evie sat up and put her head between her knees.
Didn’t help. Her brain still swam with lust. How was she going to face Joe at the ballpark? How was she going to sleep with visions of him in her head? How was she going to live without another kiss like that?
“Get over it, Evie. It was only a kiss,” she muttered.
But it hadn’t been only a kiss. For her, anyway. She did not go around kissing strange men. That made her laugh out loud, a sound she quickly stifled against the bedclothes before Adam heard and thought she’d lost her mind for good. She didn’t go around kissing strange men because there were no strange men in Oak Grove. Okay, she didn’t go around kissing anyone—except family, and that didn’t count.
The only reason she could still feel Joe’s mouth on hers was that she hadn’t kissed a man in … Evie raised her head and tried to remember.
It seemed like forever and a day. No wonder she’d wanted to put her hand under that silky shirt, spread her palms over his very nice chest, put her lips to the tanned hollow of his throat and yank him down on the cool sand beneath the swing set.
Evie groaned and let her head fall back between her knees. As the twins would say, she was in deep doo-doo.
What was she going to do about it? Let nature take its course? Very bad idea, no matter how appealing.
Ignore him? Scalotta? Impossible.
Avoid him? Childish and impractical. Not only was she his de facto boss in the Little League department, but he was the twins’ coach. And their teenagers looked to be gearing up for a summer of the age-old favorite game “attached at the hip.” She wasn’t even going to think about the bet they’d made and the consequences thereof.
“Well, you know what you’re not going to do, Evelyn Ann,” she said in her best mommy voice. “What are you going to do?”
The quiet was broken when the phone rang, shrill and stunning. She gasped, heart thundering, and grabbed the receiver before it could ring a second time. Visions of the twins in the emergency room had her levering her feet over the edge of the bed, toes searching for her shoes. The voice on the other end of the line made her freeze.
“Evie?”
Having Joe’s voice whisper in her ear so soon after thinking of him in so intimate a manner, in the dark, in her bed, caused Evie’s breath to hitch in shock.
“I hope I didn’t wake you.”
How could his voice sound so sexy? Was it because she couldn’t see him, so she imagined him, instead? Was he sitting in his own bed—stark naked and aroused? She was aroused, but at least she was clothed—in a very old, faded, asexual button-down shirt.
“Evie, you there?”
She was dizzy, hot, and she couldn’t breathe. Maybe because she was holding her breath. Letting the air out in a rush, then filling her lungs once more made the dizziness recede, at least a little.
“Yes, I’m here. Is something wrong?”
It was his turn to be silent, but she could still hear him breathing. In and out, slow and easy. Her skin tingled as she thought of his mouth near the phone, the phone near her ear. She could almost feel his breath, warm upon her neck. A caress like the wind stirring her hair.
“I wanted to apologize for tonight.”
Evie blinked as her fantasy dissolved, and she groped for the meaning in his words. “Apologize?”
“For kissing you.”
“You said you weren’t going to apologize.”
The words he’d uttered only hours before drifted through her mind; Because I want to do it again. Right now.
“I was wrong to kiss you. It won’t happen again.”
&nbs
p; “All right.” She knew she sounded as confused as she felt.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
Annoyance beat a rhythm along her spine as she started to catch on to his problem. “And what would the wrong idea be?”
“That there could be anything serious or permanent between us.”
Bingo. Just like a guy—kiss a woman and then panic because she might think you meant to marry her. Well, Evie wasn’t going to let him off that easy.
“And there couldn’t be anything permanent between us because…?”
“Well, we might have a kind of chemistry.”
“Chemistry? You think so?” She put enough surprise into her voice to make him hesitate. Luckily, he couldn’t see her smirk.
“Uh, yeah. Physical chemistry, but we wouldn’t be a good match. I figured I should put a stop to any thoughts in that direction.”
Her amusement turned to amazement, then blistered into outright anger. The nerve of the man! He really did believe she was already planning the reception.
“Hey, Wildman, I know your type. It was a kiss. Nothing more, nothing less. Don’t flatter yourself into thinking it was special. You’re good, I’ll give you that. But I’ve had better.” That ought to hurt. Men like him did not like to hear they weren’t the best thing in pants.
“You don’t need to get mad. I just don’t want any hard feelings. I’m ready for a serious relationship. I’d like to start dating again, but—”
“Not me.”
“You have to agree it would be a bad idea with all that’s happened. The bet, and the news, and the kids.”
“I agree. Bad idea.”
“I meant to tell you—I don’t want your job.”
For a moment Evie just sat there, trying to keep up with the way his mind worked. The reminder of what had happened earlier that night, as frustrating as their kiss had been and as annoying as this conversation was, made her speak more sharply than usual.
“If you don’t want my job, why did you agree to the bet?”
“I saw which way the wind was blowing. They wouldn’t have given you the job, either. Mrs. Larson looked like she’d swallowed a bug. I thought you could use some help.”
Evie hadn’t asked for help since she’d applied for a job at Oak Grove. Which had gotten her indebted to a chauvinistic jerk. Twice over. “I don’t need your help.”
“And I don’t want your job. If you want it so bad, I’ll give it back to you when this is done.”
She hadn’t thought she could get any angrier. She’d been wrong. “Give it to me?” Her voice sounded high and thready. “Give it to me? Don’t do me any favors. I’m going to win this bet, Scalotta. You are toast.”
“That’s what Toni said.”
“Believe her. Good night.”
“Hey, wait a minute.”
She hung up on him. He was right about one thing—dating would be a very bad idea. Especially since right now she wanted to do him bodily harm. Still, he didn’t have to say it right out, like she wasn’t worthy or something. She didn’t want to date him, either.
And she’d prove it. The next guy who asked her out, she’d say yes instead of no, for a change. She didn’t need Joe Scalotta for kisses, dates or anything else.
*
Chapter Ten
Today was the day Joe began his new life. He’d decided that this morning while drinking coffee on his porch as he watched the sun rise and spread day across his lawn. During those years when he’d lost control of things—playing football, traveling, partying, running to Chicago whenever he could to see Toni—he’d often soothed himself with the thought of drinking coffee at sunrise on his very own porch in some out-of-the-way town. For a change, the reality proved every bit as good as the fantasy.
Somewhere in the perfect hollow of Oak Grove was a woman for him. He just had to find her.
But first he had to stop thinking too much—about Evie.
He’d spent several sleepless nights caught between remembering the magic of their kiss and lecturing himself to forget her altogether. Evie hadn’t seemed impressed or affected by their embrace. In fact, he’d made an idiot out of himself by calling her, and had angered her in the process.
“Good going, Joe,” he muttered now as he drove to another game. “If it’s Thursday, it must be T-ball. Monday and Wednesday are Big League.”
When he arrived, several of his kids were practicing under the watchful eye of one of the moms. Joe recognized the red heads of the Vaughn twins, but a quick survey of the small, before-game crowd did not reveal Evie. He hoped her annoyance with him didn’t extend to skipping the twins’ games.
“Hey, Danny, Benji,” he greeted them as the two ran up and hugged his knees. “Where’s your mom?”
He winced when two pairs of bright blue eyes contemplated him with too much knowledge. “Why?”
Joe shrugged. He only asked because he didn’t want her avoiding the game on his account. Not for any other reason. Really.
“You’re here and she’s not. Just curious.”
“She had to drop Adam off at the high school diamonds. Him and Toni were going to practice, then she’s coming back.”
Joe frowned. Toni hadn’t mentioned that.
“Hey, Coach Joe.” One of the twins tugged his hand. “You’re growlin’ again. Mom says you do that ‘cause you don’t know how to come—come—”
“Communicate, moron,” the other one offered.
Unfortunately, “moron” gave Joe no indication which twin was which.
“Shut up, Benji.”
Aha! The one holding Joe’s hand was Danny. Joe reached down and turned Danny’s hat backward with a playful tug. That would help keep their identities straight for a while.
“That’s what your mom said, huh?” For some reason the fact that Evie had discussed him with the twins made Joe smile. Bad sign—especially since what she’d discussed with them hadn’t been complimentary. He needed to stop caring about what she did, what she said, where she was.
The crowd for the game itself wasn’t as large as the previous week’s, but it was bigger than usual—or so he later heard. Joe turned his attention to the game. He enjoyed the job. Kids at this age were so joyous. They didn’t care if they screwed up. They just wanted to have fun, and in teaching them, Joe discovered he just wanted to have fun, too. He’d never had the chance before. He’d played many years of ball—but he’d never really played. Until now.
And the best part of T-ball league? While occupied with the six-and seven-year-olds, he couldn’t think about Evie, or Toni, or Adam, or anything but those twelve kids.
His team lost the game, and he didn’t care. Neither did they. They beamed at him, slapped his hand, hugged his knees. It was so cool.
“Great job, guys. I’m proud of each and every one of you. You did your best and you had fun. That’s what we’re here for.”
As they headed off to their parents like ants spilling from an anthill, Joe grinned. He would really like to have a bunch of kids of his own someday, but until then, he’d make due with these rentals
“Coach?”
A woman’s voice brought him out of his private dream. He looked into a new face, a very pretty face. “Yes?”
“I just wanted to thank you for taking the team. My daughter, Kendra—” she pointed at a pigtailed little girl covered in dust “—is having a very good time.”
“I’m glad.” Joe grabbed his glove from the bench and surreptitiously glanced at Kendra’s mom’s left hand. No ring. Hmm…
“I have to tell you, I was concerned when I heard you’d taken the team.”
“Join the club.”
She smiled, and dazzled Joe. He’d always liked women—all kinds of women. They were, well, women—soft and sweet, and they smelled really good. When you spent most of your time with hard, loud, rough men who did not smell good at all, women became even more special.
“I was afraid you would be one of those win, win, win coaches who screame
d all the time and expected perfection.”
“From seven-year-olds?”
“You’d be surprised how many people do.”
“Not me.”
“Glad to hear that. Tell me, have you ever coached girls?”
“I have a daughter, Mrs….
“Hanson. But it’s not ‘Mrs.’ anymore—and you can call me ‘Julie.”‘
Joe nodded, stifling a smile.
“I know you have a daughter. May I call you ‘Joe’?”
“Feel free.”
She smiled that smile again. Joe really liked her smile—great teeth and excellent lips, though a bit too much makeup for a ball game. That made Joe frown.
He was comparing her with Evie, who didn’t wear makeup at all and managed to look just fine. The thought of Evie made him glance about—only to discover her deep in what appeared to be a stimulating conversation with … a guy! The annoyance that flashed through Joe was strong and unwarranted. The man was probably another coach or some kid’s dad, and Joe had no right to be jealous, or even wonder who she was talking to.
“Joe?”
“Yes.” He turned back to Julie. “Sorry.”
“Anyway, I was pleased to hear you had a girl of your own. A lot of coaches yell, and as you must know from your daughter—yelling at girls is a very bad idea.”
“It is?” This was news to him.
Julie’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you had a daughter.”
“I do. But I just got custody.”
“Oh?” She stood up straighter, and Joe couldn’t help but admire the view. Julie had a very nice figure, though not as nice as— Grr. Why couldn’t he quit comparing the two women? “You’re divorced?” Julie asked.
“Yeah.” Joe left it at that. He had no desire to spend his first conversation with an attractive, Oak Grove single woman talking about his fiasco of a past and the death of his already ex-wife.
“So you don’t understand girls.”
“Not at all,” he confessed.
She laughed and put her hand on his arm, leaving it there too long.
For some reason, Joe glanced at Evie again, and caught her scowling at him while still talking to that guy. He yanked his gaze back to Julie.
Out of Her League Page 10