Too bad that wouldn’t ever happen because the more he was around her, the more fascinating she became.
She stepped out and he pulled on his own clothes, thanking his lucky stars he’d decided to come for a late night workout instead of going to a bar with Dave. He swiftly tied his shoelaces and headed out, wanting to help her with whatever else she needed to do to lock up.
He found her flicking off a few more lights.
“No other guys waiting around to surprise you?” He said it lightly, but it occurred to him that he didn’t like her locking up alone here at night.
“Nope.” She dug for her keys in her purse.
“I’ll walk you out. Do you close up every night?”
“No, just Saturdays when my ex has the kids.”
He made a mental note to be there every Saturday night—and not just for sex. She needed to have a guy around to make sure she got to her car safely.
They walked down the stairs and out to the parking lot. Her car was in a reserved space right up front. That came as a small comfort to him. At least it was well lit and close to the building.
He pushed her up against the door of her car and stole one more kiss before he said good night. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
He didn’t blame her for looking confused. She’d just had steamy hot shower sex with a guy she didn’t know well enough—yet. “For the football clinic?”
“Oh!” she flushed. “Justin—my ex—will drop Sam off, but I’ll be there to pick him up.”
“Okay. We’ll take good care of him.”
She reached out and touched his chest with one finger, sending a zing of excitement straight to his already blue balls. “I will hold you to that, Coach.”
One more kiss. She tasted so good.
“Goodnight, Ms. Love.” He opened her door for her and waited while she got in.
“Goodnight, Coach.”
He shut the door and walked to his car, the taste of her still on his tongue.
Wow. He couldn’t wait to have her again, even though he knew he definitely shouldn’t.
Shower sex had presented a loophole in his personal rule about single mothers. It wasn’t the same as dating. And Brandy had said she wasn’t dating right now, so it was clearly just a hookup for her, too. She was mature enough to understand the difference between the booty call and a relationship.
He needed to be careful, though. Brandy was the last person he wanted to hurt.
Or get hurt by.
Chapter Six
The next day, Brandy yanked the boxes of Christmas decorations out of the shed with her cell phone trapped between her ear and her shoulder. Dang, this position had been easier before cell phones came along. Now she’d need a massage after hanging up. Of course, she had a Bluetooth somewhere. Somewhere being the operative word.
“So how’s the job search?” she asked Meg.
Meg just groaned. “It’s not just a job search, it’s a career search. That’s what makes it so hard. I don’t need to work at Starbucks, I want a serious, career job, only I’ve been out of the work force for 15 years, so it seems nearly impossible. What made me decide to do this again?”
“You decided—in therapy—remember why?”
Meg made a groaning sound in her throat.
“So you’re not depending on Teddy to fulfill all your needs.”
“No, I decided so I’d have a means to support myself if we get divorced. And he’s not ringing any bells in any of the needs departments these days,” she grumbled.
“Are we talking about sex here?”
“Yes.”
“Have you thought about seducing him?”
“I don’t even want to. I’m so mad at him. I think—I think we’re going to try a separation.”
Brandy sucked in her breath. “Wow. You already talked about that?”
“Yeah. He would move out. He’s looking at some condos by the hospital.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. It was my suggestion.”
“Have you told the kids?”
“No, not yet. We only just started talking about it. Brandy... he seemed relieved.” Her voice broke.
“That doesn’t mean he wants this. Honestly... you haven’t asked my opinion, but I’m not sure either of you want this. I think you both just realize something has to change.”
Meg sniffed. “I don’t know,” she wailed. “I really don’t.”
“Well, just don’t rush into anything. If you try the separation, maybe just tell the kids that Daddy needs to stay closer to work for a while because he’s really busy.”
“That won’t be hard for them to believe,” she said dryly. His long surgeon’s hours were a major source of their discord.
“How would you like to take on the event coordination for Phenomenal Physiques? Not as my employee, but as an independent contractor? So it’d be your own business? I’m in over my head with trying to launch the new stores. I could really use someone like you to help me plan the parties. The Fostering Christmas thing is just around the corner and I don’t even have a clue what I’m doing, yet.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” She dropped the last box of decorations in her living room and sighed. She wished Meg was over here right now to decorate for her. She was good at these sorts of things. They only stressed Brandy out.
“That sounds fun.”
“Well, think about it. I could really use your help.”
“Thanks, I will.” She sounded a few shades brighter. “Is that why you called?”
“No.”
“Well, what’s up?”
She opened the box holding the fake Christmas tree and dumped the plastic pine-needled branches out on the carpet. “I had hot monkey sex with Rick Morehouse last night.”
“Get. Out.”
“Serious.”
“Seriously serious? So what happened? Where? What’s the scoop?”
“It’s crazy. I was locking up and I found him naked in the men’s showers.” She sorted the branches into stacks according to the color on their ends.
“Oh yeah, suuure, you did.”
She laughed. “It’s true. I thought everyone was gone, but I heard water running, so I went in to see if someone had left a faucet on. There he was. In living color.”
“Oh mah gawd, Brandy. This is the best story I’ve heard since... well, I don’t know when.” Meg’s southern accent always became stronger when she gossiped, as if she was channeling her mother.
“We’re not dating, though. We both agreed. Just sex.” Branches organized, she started assembling the tree.
Meg sniffed. “And why is that?”
“I already told you. I don’t have time for a relationship. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have certain needs.” She giggled.
“How was he? Was he any good?”
“He was amazing. Like, the best I’ve ever had.”
“So was it just a one-time thang?”
“Mmm, no, he angled for more. He’s totally a player, but I figured this works for me. Hot sex, no commitment. What could be wrong with that scenario?”
Meg made an indistinct sound, as if she might disagree but didn’t want to say so. “Brandy, how about we make a deal?”
“What deal?”
“If I keep an open mind about saving my marriage, you keep an open mind about dating Rick Morehouse. He’d be perfect for you. Brandy, I want him for you.”
Something stirred in her chest—one part discomfort, one part pleasure. Did she want him for herself, too? She gave herself a shake. “No deal. I’m seriously not ready to date.”
“It’s been four years since your divorce.”
“Not ready.”
Meg sighed. “Well, I still want him for you. That’s not going to change.”
She inserted the last branch in the “trunk” and surveyed her work. “Well, thanks, I guess.”
“You’re welcome. And thanks for the job suggestion. I’m going to mull it over.”<
br />
“You do that. We’ll talk soon.”
“Yes. I’ll call you tomorrow. Have a great day!”
She bid Meg the same and turned her phone off, rubbing the crick in her neck.
I want him for you.
Nope. It couldn’t happen. Not now.
* * *
Sam Anderson was easy to spot at the clinic with his shock of blond hair, exactly the same color as his mother’s. It hung over one eye in the modern version of the skater’s cut. He was small, but most boys his age still were. His father dropped him off, and Rick strolled over to introduce himself.
“Rick Morehouse, head coach.” He stuck out his hand.
The guy was tall, but lanky, with a slight belly. His skin was pasty, as if he spent all his time indoors. He looked down his nose at Rick and hesitated a moment before sticking out his hand. “Justin Anderson. This is Sam. We’re really not sure if he’s interested in playing next year—”
Sam frowned.
His father ignored it, “—but we agreed he could come and try it out for the clinic.”
Rick decided to ignore the asocial father and smiled, instead, at Sam. “Have you played ball before?”
Sam nodded. “I’ve played all three years at Harlon Middle School.”
“Oh yeah? What position?”
The boy looked up and met his eye squarely. “QB.”
His eyebrows shot up. “That’s great, son. You’re going to be working with Coach Jones over there.” He pointed to Dave. “Did you bring a water bottle?”
“Oh,” the boy started. “I left it in the car.”
His father rolled his eyes, looking put out. He handed him the keys. “Go and get it.”
When Sam had left, Justin folded his arms across his chest and looked out at the field.
Rick should just walk away—this guy didn’t deserve his attention, after all. But curiosity kept him standing there. This was the type of guy Brandy had picked in the past? He seemed like an asshole with a capital A.
“Sam’s too little to play. His mom wanted him to do this. Personally, I wouldn’t be brokenhearted if he didn’t make the team. Like I said, we’re not even sure he’d accept a spot if offered. He’s tested into Houston Prep Academy.” He said it proudly. Rick half-expected him to start reciting his kid’s test scores to make up for his penis size, which had to be miniscule considering all the arrogance he was throwing out. But no, it was sweet he was proud of his kid, and if he was honest, he’d admit the only reason it rubbed him wrong was because this was Brandy’s ex.
“Well, this clinic is good skill-building whether he makes the team or not.” He stuck to the party line, resisting the temptation to mention that he’d already discussed Sam’s chances of getting on the team with his ex-wife.
Intimately.
No, he didn’t need to show his dick-size to this guy. He was comfortable with who he was and what he did.
Sam ran back up with the water bottle, breathless.
“All right, Sam, head on over to Coach Jones, over there.” He pointed.
A far friendlier father came over to talk to him and he was saved from any more conversation with Justin Anderson. When he finished, he headed off to the grass, where the boys all sat waiting for instructions.
He had 108 boys to watch, but he kept an eye on Sam. The kid appeared to be working hard and giving it his best. Most boys at this age were awkward, and Sam was no exception, but when one of the coaches spoke to him, he listened intently and nodded immediately, so it appeared he had a good attitude.
Dave and Jake, the parent volunteer coach ran them through a series of warm-ups and drills, while he and Phil pulled kids out one by one for skill testing. The next two hours were a hectic blur. They didn’t even get through one-third of the kids for individual testing by the time the practice was over.
“Okay, boys, huddle up in your groups.”
He’d divided the boys into three groups, each with their own coach, so he’d be free to walk around and see all of them. He walked over to Sam’s group now. Dave was their coach, and he was giving them the end of the day pep talk.
“How’d it go for you all today?” Rick asked.
The boys looked worn out, some of them rested doubled over with their hands on their knees, heads hanging. They had run them around with conditioning exercises for two hours straight.
Sam straightened and put his hands on his hips, still appearing out of breath. He nodded with the other boys.
“All right, you’re dismissed. Give it to me, here.” He put his palm up for them to slap a high five as they filed away. Sam was at the end of the line. “Good job, Sam.”
The kid looked up, as if surprised to be called out by name, and then flushed with pleasure. “Uh..thanks, Coach.”
He sensed her presence before he heard the sound of her voice. “Hey champ, how’d it go?”
His skin prickled with the memory of her naked in the shower the night before. But her kid was here, and he wasn’t going to confuse him by acting overly-friendly toward her. God, he’d hated it when guys came onto his mom while he was standing right there. He remembered being Sam’s age and wanting to throat-punch them.
Brandy had stopped with Sam a few feet away, asking him about his day. She had a young girl with her, around age ten or 11 but already as beautiful as her mother. Brandy looked up and flashed him her heart-stopping smile.
His body responded instantly, cock hardening in his pants.
Damn, this woman was dangerous. And her kid was right there.
He grit his teeth and gave her a bland, impersonal smile, lifting his hand to wave.
Surprise flittered across her features. “How’d it go, Coach?” she called out.
Ah, hell. He really didn’t want to go over there and talk to her. He wouldn’t be able to play it cool.
He gave her an inattentive wave again. “Real good,” he called out over his shoulder, walking away from her. Yes, it was a Class A blow off, but he didn’t want it to seem like he knew her any better than any other parent picking up their kid. Like he’d cupped her tits in his hands. Or had seen the way her face screwed up right before she came.
He distracted himself by talking shop with Phil and Dave until the field had cleared. But when he got in his Escalade to drive home, a nagging voice said he’d been an ass. But surely she’d understand? They’d already talked about not dating. They were a casual hookup, nothing more.
Too bad that pestering voice kept eating away at him.
He’d fucked up.
He hoped there wasn’t hell to pay. Hadn’t this been precisely what he wanted to avoid? Someone getting hurt?
* * *
Brandy drew in her breath and lifted her chest when Coach Morehouse stepped through the glass doors to the gym. It was only 9:30 in the morning—she certainly hadn’t expected to see him at this time of day. She’d spent the last 24 hours hardening every part of herself toward him, and she was not about to get the pants charmed off her again.
The way he’d dissed her at the practice had been unforgivable. She’d been nauseous afterward. She’d never wanted to undo a one-night-stand more than theirs. It seemed she’d been right about Rick all along—he was a shallow, self-important player and she’d been dumb enough to get played.
It’s not that she’d expected him to ask her on a date or call her up afterward, but she hadn’t expected to be treated like she was invisible. Or like it just hadn’t happened.
Despite their mutual vow to that they were only interested in a casual sex hook-up, she’d still expected to be treated... well, if not special, then with a little more warmth and charm than he’d shown out there. She wasn’t a diva, but... sheesh. She deserved a little more polite attention than that!
She purposely bent over to file something as he sauntered up to the front desk, hoping he’d just pass on by. She’d caught the smile he flashed her. Ugh. It looked so damn genuine. Now she understood. He just played to get what he wanted. He played sweet to get f
ree access to her club, played charming to nail her against a shower wall.
No, none of that rang true, and she really didn’t want to regret their hook up. She’d used him as much as he used her. Heck, he hadn’t even gotten off.
“How did your son like the clinic?” Rick asked brightly.
She straightened and arranged her features into what she hoped looked cool but pleasant.
Professional.
“He had a great time, thank you.” She tried to make the thank you sound dismissive, so he’d walk away, but he didn’t take the hint.
“Well, I haven’t tested him, but he looked like he worked hard and brought a good attitude.”
For her son’s sake, she mustered a cheerful smile. “Glad to hear it.” In an effort to get rid of him, she walked around the counter. She’d read that somewhere once—how to get rid of colleagues who stand in your office shooting the shit. You’re supposed to stand up like you’re leaving. “I’d better get to the studio for my next class,” she said, when he didn’t move.
Rick may be charming, but he wasn’t stupid. She caught his recognition of her coolness in the way he studied her, some of his cheeriness fading away. “I’ll catch up with you after your class?” He looked serious, like he was scheduling a real appointment.
She made an indistinct noise, giving him a blank but pleasant expression as she passed him and headed toward Studio B. She should’ve just said she wasn’t available. But she didn’t want him to catch her in a lie, since she didn’t have anything scheduled. She needed to think of some pressing appointment fast.
She didn’t exhale until she reached the empty studio and closed the door. The sight of the headset Rick had bought her sent a shard of pain rattling through her chest.
No, she was a big girl. She could handle awkward. She certainly had been a willing participant in the extracurricular shower activities, she would have to manage the fallout.
She taught her class on autopilot, the words coming out but without her awareness of even what she’d said. Her morning class was full of her regulars—the same diehards who never missed. They didn’t need any special help or encouragement, so it worked out fine.
Scoring With Santa: Book One in the Second Chance Series Page 6