by Lee Taylor
“You look pretty, Mom. I like that sweater. It’s the same color as your eyes.”
She had desperately wanted to see Dameon and just as desperately didn’t. But after three hours of grueling sessions with the team of juvenile counselors—some of them with her alone, others with her and Trey together—she still hadn’t seen Dameon. She’d hoped that he would be in some of the sessions.
As they prepared to leave, she swallowed her disappointment, determined to focus on Trey who looked understandably shaken. The sessions Jesse had been in were tough. She could only imagine what Trey’s had been like. The counselors were courteous but didn’t pull any punches. Trey was in serious trouble and he was going to have to work hard to pull himself out.
As they walked by his office, Dameon came to the door and called out after them. Jesse was startled at the rush of heat surging over her. She prayed to God that her face didn’t look as hot as it felt.
Dameon edged up close to her but focused on Trey.
“I’ve been watching for you. How did it go, Trey?”
Trey shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”
Dameon explained. “I was in some of the conversations with Trey, but I had a meeting and couldn’t stay for them all.”
He turned back to Trey who was shuffling his feet, staring at the ground, his hands shoved in his pockets.
Dameon persisted. “Did you think about our offer, Trey?”
Trey mumbled what sounded like a qualified affirmative.
In explanation to Jesse, Dameon noted. “As part of his probation, we offered Trey the opportunity to join my basketball team.”
He looked back at Trey who had his eyes locked on the ground.
“What did you decide to do, Trey?”
Trey looked up at him then flushed and looked back down.
“I… I think I’d like to do it.”
Dameon was curt.
“Good. I’ll talk to your principal and have my secretary arrange a bus from your school. We practice on the NMU courts at Isotopes Park. Our practice lasts for a solid two and a half to three hours. Come prepared to play ball, Trey.”
Trey swallowed hard and nodded.
While he talked to Trey, Dameon had moved over beside Jesse. He’d clamped his hand around her arm—like a vise. Not hard, but he held her in place. She was trapped, she couldn’t leave if she wanted to. Luckily, she didn’t want to.
Dameon waited until Trey had moved down the hallway, then murmured in her ear.
“Got a question for you.”
She managed to conjure up enough spit in her desert dry mouth to croak out an answer.
“What kind of question?”
His eyes were dancing and a sexy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Do you have a permit for that?”
She frowned, flustered. “I already told you that I did.”
His smile widened to a grin. Leaning down, he murmured, “I wasn’t talking about the gun. I was talking about your mouth.”
~~~
The next day, Jesse drove over to Isotopes Park. She’d asked Trey if he minded if she came and watched him practice. She was surprised by his quick affirmative.
“Please, Mom. I want you to come.” He’d hesitated, and then appealed to her. “If… I don’t feel like I’m doing very good, can I go home?”
Jesse’s breath hitched, aching for him. He was such a serious kid, tall, gangly and shy. His question underscored how young he was, something she sometimes forgot.
“Yes, you can. But let’s see how it goes first.”
Jesse got to the park early and went for a grueling ten mile run on the trail she’d found on the internet. When she was finished, she walked over to where a group of parents were watching the basketball practice. She stood at a distance, her heart in her throat watching them play.
She was astonished at Dameon. He was active, involved, shouting out one play after another. He frequently pulled one of the players aside and worked with him on a move or a pass. She swallowed hard. In addition to being accomplished, he was gorgeous. Tall and muscular, his lean body was lithe, powerful. Jesse’s stomach pitched remembering his hands roaming over her eager body, then stopping to touch and torment her most sensitive places. Watching him engage the group of supposedly ‘bad’ kids, she saw a man thoroughly in control and enjoying every moment. Most compelling was his engaging grin. From the reaction of the players and the comments she overheard from the cluster of parents, she wasn’t the only one impressed by the dark-haired, blue-eyed coach.
Jesse’s heart tugged watching Trey. All of the basketball players were big. A couple of them towered over Trey. He was almost as tall as most of them, only skinnier and younger. They were all accomplished players but Trey looked like he was holding his own. At least his ball handling was as good as any of them. If he took a chance and shot, he seemed to sink a decent percentage. When Trey stayed with her, he spent most of his free time at a neighborhood park shooting baskets. She’d been encouraged hoping he’d find friends, but when she asked, he’d said no. He’d rather play by himself. Watching the level of play, Jesse was glad that Trey had practiced as much as he had or he would have been swamped by the level of ball these young men were playing.
A buxom black woman came over to her.
“Hi. I’m Shaunda Williams, DaShon’s mother.” She pointed to the player who was obviously the star on the team. Shaunda continued. “Your son is the new kid, the one with the strawberry blond hair?”
Jesse swallowed and forced herself to speak, a reminder where Trey got his shyness.
“Yes. My name is Jesse O’Donnell. My son’s name is Trey Chambers.”
The woman studied her thoughtfully. “What happened? Whaddid he do?”
Jesse cringed, shocked at the blunt question. She’d forgotten for a moment that all these kids were here because like Trey they were in trouble. She steeled her voice.
“Honestly, I would rather not talk about it. I’m just starting to get my head around it.”
The woman nodded, then spoke matter-of-factly.
“You don’t know it yet but you have an angel on your shoulder.”
Jesse gasped in surprise. “I do?”
“Yes, you do, and I do too.” A sunny smile split the woman’s face, causing her eyes to twinkle. Pointing to Dameon, she said, “An angel brought that man to me and now he’s brought him to you.”
Jesse could only stare at her. Any response she might have made was stuck in her throat.
Shaunda continued as if she hadn’t struck Jesse dumb. “My son idolizes him. So does my husband. We’re hardcore Wolf fans.”
Jesse found her voice. “Why do you call him ‘Wolf’?”
Shaunda looked surprised. “You don’t know the Chief?”
“I… I guess not. Not really, not… well.”
If Shaunda saw Jesse’s confusion she ignored it.
“Everyone calls him Wolf. It’s his nickname. All the men at the station call him that. Something from his military days. Some venture he was on. The kids picked up on it. Now we all call him Wolf.”
Jesse forced herself to speak. “I’ve watched a lot of basketball. My father loved the game. Your son is extraordinary. I’ve never seen a player his age play like that. He’s remarkable.”
Shaunda flushed with obvious pride. “Yes he is. Thank you. Wolf has been working with him for two years now. Even I can’t believe the difference. How old is your boy?”
“Trey just turned fifteen two weeks ago.”
Shaunda blew out an impressed breath, her ample chest heaving. “Phew, he’s got a lot of talent for a kid that young. Even in this two hour practice he started out tentative, but has gotten more assertive. Wait until Wolf works with him. You won’t believe the difference. That man could draw talent from a stump. In a couple of months, your boy will be playing like a pro, Jesse.”
The practice ended and all the players and parents clustered around Dameon. Jesse faded back, feeling uneasy, shy. Trey spott
ed her and headed toward her. If he hadn’t looked so young, so pale, she would have laughed. He looked like she did when she was a girl. Her hair was a darker red, his was more blood. But other than that they could have been twins. With his emerald green eyes and dark brows he was a stunningly handsome young man. Jesse knew how much Garrett hated Trey’s hair although he’d said he liked hers—in the beginning.
Jesse smiled at her son.
“You looked good out there, Trey. I was proud of you.”
He shook his head. “Yeah, but, Mom, did you see those other guys?”
“Yes I did. They’re amazing.”
Trey hung his head. Jesse thought she saw tears caught in his lashes. He swept a hand over his eyes and muttered, “I don’t know, Mom. I don’t know if I can do it. They are so much better than I am. I… I barely know any of the plays. Most of them I’ve never seen. I feel like an idiot.” When she started to protest, he shook his head. “No, Mom, I’m telling you. I really don’t know if I can do this.”
Jesse rubbed his shoulder. “Honey, I can understand. This is a lot harder game than you’ve played. It’s a different level of ball. But don’t make a decision now. Wait and talk to the coach.”
She looked up and was relieved to see Dameon coming toward them.
“Hi, Jesse. I thought that was you flying around the park. I didn’t know you were a runner.” He pointed to her legs. “That must be where those come from.”
Jesse smiled. “I don’t know about that, but I’ve always run. Put it this way. I’ve done a lot of running in my life—mostly away from things.”
She stopped surprised feeling her cheeks heat. “I don’t know what made me say that….”
Dameon raised an eyebrow. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you Jesse? You even surprise yourself.”
He turned to Trey. “What did you think, Trey?’
Trey flushed and looked down, not meeting Dameon’s eyes.
“It was good, Coach. They’re good.” He hesitated and took a deep breath. “But… I… I … don’t know if… I don’t know if I’m really up to it.”
Dameon held his gaze. “Why not?”
“I… I don’t know….” The rest of Trey’s sentence was lost in a helpless shrug.
Dameon nodded his understanding. “Well, Trey, you’re the one who’s going to make that decision, aren’t you? When you know you’re up to it, then you’re up to it. Right?”
Trey swallowed and looked up at Dameon.
Dameon raised a questioning brow. “How are you going to find out?”
Trey flushed a rosier red and gave him a sheepish grin. “By coming to practice every day and working as hard as I can?”
Dameon clapped him on the back and winked at him. “I knew you were a smart kid.
“How about something to eat? Are you two as famished as I am? I know a place where we can get the best pasta this side of Italy. How about it? They’re accustomed to sweaty athletes who’ve been playing hard for a couple of hours. And they’ll go nuts over that red hair of yours, Trey.”
Trey frowned. “I thought Italians liked dark hair.”
Dameon chuckled. “That’s why they like me. Wait until you meet the woman who runs the place and you’ll understand what I mean. The courageous Italian owner faced down his family and married a red-headed Irish woman. Pepe is a miracle in and of himself. Anyone who can cook the way he does and survive Kathleen deserves undying gratitude and respect.”
Jesse held back. “I… I can’t, Dameon. I’m really sweaty. I ran and I only have my sweat pants.”
“C’mon, Jesse. Do you think Trey and I have been making mud pies? You look great.”
He knelt down and unzipped his large gear bag. Whipping off his shirt, Dameon bared the most incredible chest she’d seen. And that didn’t begin to describe his shoulders and biceps. When Jesse gasped, he looked up at her and winked. She was sure her tongue was hanging out. He dragged out another T-shirt and pulled it over his head. Standing up, he tossed a shirt to Trey and said with a grin, “You and I can pretend to be clean.”
Reaching for Jesse’s arm, he smiled down at her. “As for you? You stay the way you are. You look and smell great.”
Chapter 15
A very buxom, very red-headed woman sprinkled with a thicket of freckles met them at the entrance to La Grotto. Jesse’s stomach clenched in anticipation, at the enticing aroma of roasted garlic, onion and spicy tomatoes. The heady tang of fresh-baked bread filled the crowded restaurant. Jesse’s mouth watered. She realized for the first time that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
The shapely freckled woman shouted over the sound of music and rowdy chatter. Gushing, she lunged toward them.
“Wolf, Wolf, Mo gra! A chuisle mo chroi, my treasure. Where have you been? I thought that you’d forgotten le gra mo chroi, the love of your life!”
Dameon laughed and hugged her. “Kathleen, there are some things in life that are truly unforgettable and you are one of them.”
Before he’d stopped talking the astonishing woman had turned on Trey.
Clasping his shoulders, she pulled him up in front of her gazing at him as if he were a mythical Irish warrior riding out of the mist.
“Look at you, alannah! Just look at you, child. You could be my brother Patrick’s son. Where did you get those eyes, milish?”
Dameon moved between them, rescuing a startled Trey. “Maybe it will help if I introduce you to his mother. Kathleen, this is Jesse O’Donnell and her son, Trey.”
The mammoth woman turned to Jesse, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She pounced on Jesse murmuring one Irish endearment after another. Jesse knew some of the terms. She was surprised that tears burned her eyes remembering her fierce Irish father’s loving names for her.
Kathleen studied her and then in her thick Irish brogue turned to Trey, “Gah! I bet whoever your dada is, he’s not too happy. You don’t have a drop of anyone in you but her.”
Jesse smiled. “We’ve heard that before.”
“O’Donnell? You married an Irishman?”
“No, I go by my maiden name.”
The force of nature’s bright hazel eyes widened. “You’re not married, mo daor?”
Seeing the woman cast a knowing glance at Dameon, Jesse flushed. “Uh, no.”
As Jesse’d anticipated, Kathleen’s eyes gleamed and she twitched her hips suggestively.
“Ahhhh, so you’re here with Wolf?”
Jesse stammered, embarrassed by the fact that she was embarrassed. “Uh, no, not really. I… Dameon is coaching my son.”
Kathleen pinned a narrow gaze on Trey and nodded in understanding.
“Dea. Good. You look like a nice kid, milish. If Wolf is helping you, you do what he says and you’ll make all of us Irish proud!”
She caught Dameon’s arm as he went by and asked in mock dismay, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “Mo gra, should I be worried? Do I have competition from the álainn bhean?”
Wolf laughed. “Kathleen, you occupy a special place in my heart and you always will.”
~~~
After perusing the mammoth menu, Jesse gratefully accepted Dameon’s offer to order for them. Antipasto, fresh bread, fragrant cheeses and a carafe of wine arrived within minutes.
Jesse protested as Dameon reached over and filled her glass.
“I need to drive. I really can’t have wine.”
Dameon swept his hand across the plates of food that were increasing in number before their eyes.
“Don’t worry, we’ll stick enough pasta in you, it’ll absorb one glass of wine. Besides, you’re tight with the Chief of Police, I understand.”
As if he’d commanded it, plates of pasta in a mélange of sauces began to arrive. When a platter of fish and roasted meats was added to the feast, Jesse put up her hands in dismay.
“Good God, Dameon! How can we possibly eat all of this?”
Dameon laughed and pointed to Trey.
“That’s why you have us, Jesse. Trey is a g
rowing boy and sometimes I swear I am too. For some reason, I never lost my adolescent metabolism.”
Knowing that eight-pack abs, and innumerable lean muscles on a six-foot-four frame required more fuel than she could consume in a week, Jesse smiled in admiration. Whether it was the wine or the festive atmosphere of the bustling restaurant, she felt relaxed, at home. She wasn’t put off by the countless patrons who came by to greet Dameon. Some people called him Chief, others called him Wolf. It was clear he was a celebrity. Both loved and admired. Ordinarily Jesse would have felt small in comparison to his magnetic presence, but he introduced her and Trey to every well-wisher making them part of the festivities.
After she couldn’t eat another bite and even Trey and Dameon had put down their forks, one of the Kathleen’s sons came over and invited Trey to the game room. Jesse flushed when she saw Dameon wink at Kathleen across the crowded room knowing that the irrepressible woman was making sure they had time alone.
Jesse was grateful for the opportunity to talk about Trey.
“What did you think about Trey—about how he was at the practice?” Jesse couldn’t mask her concern. “He seems uncertain, scared.”
Dameon shrugged. “He should be, he deserves to be. The young men on the team play way above him. They’re in a different league. Trey’s coach was right. He should have tried out for the high school team. He would have been a superstar. The kids I’m working with are four steps above high school.”
Jesse frowned in dismay.
“So you think it’ll be too much for him?”
“No, actually I don’t. Not eventually. He’s a talented kid. And he’s smart. He understands the game, has a real sense of the court. Right now, his biggest issue is lack of confidence and learning new plays. Plus, he’s scared. He doesn’t think he’s good enough to play with these guys. Humility is good, but Trey needs a dash more confidence to balance it out.” Catching her worried glance, he amplified. “It all depends, Jesse. If he applies himself and works like crazy, he’ll be a sensation.” Dameon’s eyes crinkled. “And from what I hear, he’s got a good coach.”
Jesse smiled a tentative smile. “So I heard. The parents all told me that you walk on water.”