by Liz Lincoln
Seth closed his eyes with a slow exhalation. Message received. He and Maddie would not be hanging out tonight. At least now he was free to watch Batman if he wanted. Except watching anything alone held no appeal. He wanted to spend time with his daughter.
He needed to be studying Sunday’s game plan anyway. He’d been willing to put it off to hang with Maddie. But not to watch a mediocre movie so he could see a different woman dressed in the costume Carrie chose.
Seth lifted his head from the back of the couch and turned to see Maddie. “Tomorrow after school, let’s do something. Should be an early day for me.”
To her credit, Maddie’s eyes only did a half roll when she looked at him, though the rest of her expression was impatient. “I’m going over to Noah’s after school. His mom’s taking us to the comic book store. I told you about it on Monday.”
He vaguely recalled the conversation. “Why don’t you guys come here? I can take you.” If he didn’t think about how desperate he sounded, he wasn’t actually desperate, right?
This time her eyes did a full roll. “Pass.” Textbook and papers gathered from the table, she headed toward the stairs.
“Good night, Mads. Maddie. Sorry.” He forced himself not to wince at the withering gaze she shot him. “I love you.”
In response, she tossed him a thumbs-up, then disappeared.
Adjusting his rice pack with one hand, he dragged the other down his face with a groan. His kingdom for a manual on twelve-year-old girls. Or, since he didn’t have a kingdom, his football contract.
When had being a dad gotten so much harder?
Match him up against the meanest, most brutal offensive linemen in professional football? No problem. Didn’t ruffle a single one of his feathers. Date with an MMA fighter turned movie star? He’d done that once and had been relaxed enough to enjoy himself. She’d even wanted a second date, but they couldn’t make their schedules line up. But have a conversation with the girl he’d raised for nearly thirteen years?
He was lost.
Chapter 11
Carrie was so lost in thought, she nearly jumped out of her chair when the garage door banged shut and she heard Seth come in. A moment later, he was in the kitchen, which did little to help her racing heart.
“Hey,” he said, going straight for the refrigerator. He pulled out a sports drink, twisted off the cap, downed half of it, replaced the cap, and set it on the counter.
She was absolutely not staring at the play of his arm muscles as he twisted, lifted, and twisted.
Except she was.
“Late night,” she said. Wednesdays were always his latest night, but usually he was home by the time she and Maddie returned from the pool around seven. Tonight they’d been home well over an hour.
He took another long swallow. “Coach Brandt has a few new schemes he’s installing for this week’s game. The Scorpions have some of the best offensive linemen in the league, so if we want to have any chance of getting a sack, we need a new tactic. And their running game is second in the league, so our read options on the run increased. And their quarterback loves to improvise. So we…”
His voice trailed off and he gave her a self-deprecating half smile. “Sorry. I’m probably boring you. I know you’re not a football fan.”
“No, it’s interesting. I never paid much attention to Jason in high school since he was my dumb older brother. And he was so far away for college, I ignored it.” She absentmindedly spun her pencil on her fingers as she spoke. “But getting an insider’s view, it’s actually sort of interesting.”
He made a face like he suspected she was humoring him. Which she wasn’t. She was starting to enjoy watching the games on TV with Maddie, and they’d gone to two at the stadium. Those were a lot of fun. Understandably, Maddie knew a lot about the game, and she pointed out the things her dad did well every play, not just the big plays like when he caught an interception. Carrie was learning a lot about the sport.
“Anyway, lots of new stuff to learn.” He brought his tablet and drink and sat down across from her at the table. “I’ll be up late with this tonight.” He tapped the tablet.
A dozen ideas for ways they could stay up late together jumped into her head, heating her cheeks. She bit the inside of her lips to keep them from slipping out. Without thinking about it, her hand started doodling on the paper in front of her.
Seth cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. Was he thinking the same thing?
She needed to look for another new job. And a new nanny for Maddie. The awkwardness and the tension were going to suffocate her soon, and her plan to meet a new guy to divert her interest was a nonstarter. She’d even dragged Amy out to a club last Friday, and while she’d talked to and even danced with some attractive, interested guys, she hadn’t been able to make herself even give out her phone number. Her hormones were only interested in one man.
“Whatcha working on?” Seth nodded at her notebook.
“It’s nothing, really.” A silly idea, but one that would never go anywhere.
He twisted his head, trying to see her paper better. “That’s not your diary or something, is it?”
“No!” That would be embarrassing. If she kept one, it would likely be nothing but lamenting how she couldn’t have Seth even when she wanted him so badly. “I think I told you, I did a panel about using more illustrative texts, almost like comics or graphic novels, to teach reluctant learners.”
“Sure. I went to your talk. I remember.”
Again, the knowledge that he’d attended her panel and actually paid attention to what she said both warmed her and excited her.
He was a dangerous man. And they were edging into dangerous territory. Because if they became friends before she got over her idiotic lust for him, she’d be a goner.
But other than Amy, no one in her life gave a crap when she talked about her ideas. So she couldn’t stop herself from continuing. “Amy and I have been toying with the idea of actually making a textbook. We’d start with one targeted for seventh-or eighth-grade science, since that’s what I know best. I’d write the text and ideas for the illustration, and she’d do the actual drawing.”
“And that’s what this is?” He nodded at her notebook, where she’d sketched images so rough they’d embarrass a four-year-old, interspersed with blocks of text.
She shrugged. “It’s really rough. I was goofing around while Maddie worked on her math. And when she went upstairs, I kept playing.”
He shrugged back at her. “Gotta start somewhere. I bet Spider-Man wasn’t Stan Lee’s first doodle.”
He knew who Stan Lee was?
At her startled look, he laughed. A full, hearty sound so warm and welcoming, she wanted to wrap herself in its warmth.
“I’ve paid a little attention to Maddie over the years.”
“I guess he is pretty well known.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, her making absent doodles on the page, him finishing his drink. Every second that passed made her feel more at ease. More like she belonged in his home, as a part of an odd little family. It didn’t erase the tension stretched between them, didn’t make her want him any less. But it made it a little less uncomfortable.
“You think you’ll do this textbook instead of going back to teaching?” He pushed back from the table and took his empty bottle to the recycling bin in the pantry.
“I honestly haven’t considered that.” She and Amy had never had a serious conversation about actually making their book.
“You do want to go back to teaching, right?” He paused at the pantry door, watching her. Lines creased his forehead, but she couldn’t interpret his expression.
With a sigh worthy of Maddie, she said, “I don’t know.”
Now his expression was easily read: surprise. “Really? I assumed…”
“I love science, obviously. And I love the kids. Or most of them. There are always a few you want to strangle.” Because she couldn’t sit still with him watching her, she
took her empty cup to the kitchen to refill her Diet Dr Pepper.
“But…?” he supplied for her.
“But I hate the politics. Both the administration and the district, and how rigid the curriculum is. Teaching to standardized tests instead of developing kids’ critical thinking.” She wasn’t going to think about the circumstances and politics and funding cuts that had led to her losing her job. She’d spent too much of the summer angry.
She took a large swallow from her drink and leaned back against the counter. Seth wandered over to lean against the opposite counter.
“Would a private school be better?”
“Doubtful. From what I could tell at the ones where I interviewed, the politics are sometimes different, but still prevalent.”
He looked thoughtful, working his mouth in a way that drew attention to his beard. Which made her think of how those rough whiskers felt against her skin when he kissed her.
Her stomach hollowed and she had to look away from him so she wouldn’t close the distance between them and shove her hands into his hair. He usually wore it back in a ponytail, but tonight it was loose around his shoulders, which was torturous.
“So what’s your plan? I mean, Maddie and I love having you here, but I assume this isn’t a long-term career plan for you.”
She looked up and their gazes connected. She couldn’t quite catch her breath. Something stretched between them, some kind of acknowledgment that neither of them wanted her to stay his daughter’s nanny forever. So they could be other things.
Which was an idiotic reason to made career decisions.
He looked away and pushed off the counter. “Much though I hate the idea, Maddie will be an adult in far too few years. Off to college.”
Five and a half more years seemed like an eternity of living with him and fighting her attraction. But to a parent, it probably did feel like nothing.
He grabbed his tablet off the table and headed for the living room.
She should answer his question and head up to her room. Get away from him, douse the heat that had surrounded them since he sat down at the table with her. It was the smart thing to do.
Instead, she picked up her notebook and joined him in the living room. Since he was on the sofa, she took the loveseat. But it was still close enough for the tension to arc between them. Her skin buzzed with awareness of him.
She should have given her number to one of the guys she danced with on Friday.
“I don’t know. Schools aren’t really hiring teachers at the moment, so I guess I’ll keep feeling things out and see what pops up.”
He shot her a sideways glance. It took her a moment, then she realized he was side-eyeing her word choice.
Feeling things out. What pops up.
Oh, hell. Her subconscious was evil.
She laughed self-consciously. “So to speak.” At least they could have a sense of humor about a frustrating situation. “Anyway, for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t take any job until your season is over. I don’t know what the off-season is like, but I assume you don’t travel as much.”
“Not really.” He swiped at his tablet, not looking at her as he spoke. “Occasionally I have to go somewhere for a charity thing or an endorsement deal. But my mom could always come. Or I can find someone else.”
He shot her a glance, his eyes hooded and heated. “Another sitter.”
“Right.” Deep breath in. Deep breath out. The image of him with someone else in a non-nanny way sat uncomfortably in her gut. She couldn’t be with him, but it would kill her if she thought those whiskers were scratching up another woman’s cheeks.
Her thighs twitched with the need to crawl over the ottoman and straddle his lap.
A choked sound escaped her throat, absolutely without her permission, and he turned to her. His blue eyes were full of fire. Again without her permission, her legs straightened, lifting her to her feet. She took one involuntary step forward and he sat up a little straighter, his gaze never leaving her face.
“Bed,” she blurted out.
The flame in his eyes scorched her and he set his tablet on the couch next to him. “Carrie.” His voice was low, a gentle caress over her skin.
God, she wanted what would be so easy to take. What he was clearly offering. She couldn’t breathe from how much she wanted him.
“I need to go to bed.” She licked her lips; his eyes snapped to them, making her instantly regret her action.
“We shouldn’t—”
“Alone.”
The silence hanging between them was heavy. Palpable. Tense.
“Yes. You should do that now.” His voice was tight, a warning.
She snatched up her notebook and soda. “Good night, Seth.”
“Sweet dreams, Carrie.”
Sweet didn’t describe the dreams she would likely have. But he would star in all of them.
Chapter 12
If Seth had to look at his playbook for one more second, he was going to go out of his mind. He tossed the tablet onto the bed beside him and shoved to his feet. He needed to get out of his bedroom. It wasn’t doing him any good to sit there staring at a screen. No more information was soaking into his brain.
As he stalked out of his room and to the kitchen, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket to see a text from his teammate Marcus James.
Marcus: Coupla us goin to Bubble if you wanna come.
He’d never been to Bubble, a swanky club downtown that Marcus was a financial backer of. He knew Marcus went every few weeks, but Seth hadn’t joined him, since Friday was typically the night he spent with Maddie. But tonight she was sleeping over at Emilia’s. So he was home alone with his tablet and his big, empty house.
“There’s a Seinfeld marathon on, if you’re looking for irreverent comedy.”
Not alone. Seth looked over to the couch where Carrie was sprawled out, watching TV. He’d thought she was going out with her friend Amy, but apparently not.
In his hand, his phone buzzed again.
Marcus: Baxter and his girl, Trask has a date, and Kendall. Be there bout 8. You in?
Going out would be good for him. A group of players would inevitably draw the attention of women. Maybe he could meet someone to take his mind off Carrie. He wasn’t a fan of one-night stands, but making out with someone might help. He had to do something. Having Carrie so close and not having her was driving him batshit. The other night when she’d told him about her textbook idea, he’d barely been able to keep himself from hauling her into his arms and kissing the hell out of her.
Seth: I could be talked into it.
“There’s leftover chicken in the fridge,” Carrie said, sitting up to peek over the back of the couch. Her hair was tousled around her face, making her look like she’d just rolled out of bed.
Heat flashed through him. Hell, she could probably stop showering for a week and he’d still find her sexy; he was that into her. Picking up a random woman in a bar wouldn’t help.
“Thanks.” So he didn’t have to keep looking at her, he turned to the refrigerator and pulled out the container she’d put the leftovers in. Even though he often ate at the players’ cafeteria after practice, she always made enough for him and left it with a sticky note on how best to reheat it.
He loved that about her.
He stood by the microwave as the meat and a side of rice heated, then took the plate to join her in the living room. He should sit at the table. He should text Marcus back and say he’d join the guys. He should absolutely not sit at the other end of the couch and watch reruns with Carrie.
But he did.
She moved her feet as he sat, scooting back and sitting halfway up. She had on a fitted T-shirt with superheroes on it, as she did most days, and a throw blanket over her legs.
She totally didn’t look like the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. She looked like a woman he could hang out with on a Friday night, keeping his hands to himself and remaining professional and friendly.
Yep. He definitely could do that.
“You ready for your game on Sunday?” she asked when the show went to commercial.
Seth finished chewing. “More or less. Can’t seem to cram any more plays in there right now. There’s always time tomorrow, when I’m fresh.”
“I never realized how much non-athletic stuff goes into football.”
He glanced over at her. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not just running drills and lifting weights. All the time you spend reading your playbook and watching game tape is what I mean by non-athletic. You’re not working out, being physical.”
He liked that she was learning more about football. Liked that his job interested her enough to bother. “There’s a lot to know. Strategy. You can’t just run at a guy and hit him. You gotta know which guy to hit, or tackle, or block. And it changes every week. Hell, every play. And you have to know how that guy plays, so you know the right way to tackle him.”
Her attention stayed on him as the commercial ended. He liked that. Too much.
“Is it super different when you change teams?”
He chewed his last bite of chicken as he considered her question. “Sorta. I mean, some of it is the same no matter where you are. Fundamentals. But every coach, every coordinator, has a different style. So coming here has been a bigger change than, say, when we got a new defensive coordinator in Houston.”
“You just…I don’t know.” She poked him with her foot.
Before he could stop himself, he grabbed it and set it on his lap. Dangerous. Probably inappropriate. But he couldn’t help himself. He needed to touch her.
What he really needed was to hold her. Kiss her. Strip her naked and slide inside her. But he’d settle for having her foot rest against his thigh.
Totally professional and friendly.
He shifted a little, angling toward her and putting his arm along the back of the couch. “I just what?”
Her other foot poked out from the blanket and slid toward him. She didn’t seem aware of it when she started sliding her toes back and forth along the side of his thigh. He looked down, watching her subtle caress. Willing himself not to get hard and ruin whatever was unfolding between them.