by Amber Heart
Dean shrugged. “Just pick one. I don’t really care.”
“Pretend that you do,” Leigh said through clenched teeth. “You’re going to be dealing with the subject for six weeks; I don’t want to hear any bitching if you don’t like it once we’ve started.”
Dean rearranged himself, stretching his long legs out and putting his hands in his jacket pockets. “Here’s the thing. I’m not going to have a lot of time to work on this with you. So it really doesn’t matter.” He smirked at her. “I doubt we’ll be having coffee again anytime soon.”
Anger at the insinuation had her skin flushing. Did he honestly think that she’d suggested this because she wanted to go out with him? “The only reason I suggested getting coffee was because I didn’t feel like waiting around for you to decide to call me!”
The grin widened. “Impatient?”
Leigh grabbed her spare set of notes and stood up, shoving them against his chest on her way to the door. “Only impatient to be done. Meet me back here in 3 days. With some ideas this time.”
“Hang on,” he called after her, but she kept going. Helping someone was one thing. Babysitting them was something else.
As she walked across the parking lot, her phone rang. She sighed, hoping that it wasn’t someone calling in. She really needed to get some study hours logged. To her pleased surprise, the call was from her dad.
“Hey there, Princess.”
She tried to inject some cheer into her voice. “Hey, Dad!”
“What’s wrong?”
It hadn’t worked. She could practically hear his parental antenna go up. She smiled and shook her head. She’d never been able to hide anything from the man.
“Nothing really,” she assured him. “Just group project issues.”
“The usual kind, or something different?”
She thought it over. Her heart was still beating a little too hard, but she strove to be logical. She wasn’t going to let Dean Harper get to her like this. “I guess the usual kind. I got paired with a guy who expects me to do all the work.”
Jack Dixon laughed. “How’s that going for him?”
Leigh’s lips tugged into a smile. “Not great.”
“And what’s his excuse for not working?”
“He plays football.”
“What’s his name?”
“Dean. His last name is--”
“Harper?” Jack asked, sounding a bit interested. “The running back?”
“Actually, yeah.” Leigh frowned slightly. “How’d you know that?”
“A couple of the guys I work with have a fantasy football thing going on,” Jack answered. “His stats are amazing. He could really go somewhere if he keeps it together.”
“I’m starting to feel like you’re on his side,” Leigh informed her father.
Jack laughed. “You know I’m backing you, kiddo. But he is under a lot of pressure. He’s the best player this team’s seen in years and he’s pretty much the glue holding their championship hopes together at this point. Do you think that scheduling might be an issue?”
Leigh chewed her lower lip. She had no idea what his practice schedule was like. She didn’t even know the game schedule, honestly. And she hadn’t asked. “Maybe.”
“It might be something to consider,” Jack replied. “Maybe next time you get together, ask him about what he needs to devote enough time to the project. Remember, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. If that doesn’t work, then you can always give him a swift kick in the pants.”
She laughed. “Good point.”
“I know you can do it, Princess.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
She hung up feeling much better than the she had when she’d left the coffee house. More flies with honey...she’d lay it on thick enough to drown the guy if it kept her grades up.
Chapter 3
Dean sat in the coffee house three days later, finishing his second cup of coffee. Little Miss Leigh Rice was nearly 45 minutes later and he was reveling in it, even if it was making him late for the date he had later on. He’d already planned several ways to rub it right in her pretty face when she walked in. The thing was, he wasn’t sure at this point that she was going to be walking in. He pulled out his phone and dialed the number she’d given him in class.
“Hello?”
She sounded out of breath. “In the middle of something?” he asked, making sure she could hear the innuendo.
“Who is this?”
He frowned. Really? She didn’t even recognize his voice? “How many football players call you? It’s Dean.”
“Oh. Hi.” She sounded less than enthusiastic. “You know, it’s not like I can tell that you play football from the sound of your voice.”
“And it’s not like I can tell that we had plans,” he retorted. “Because I’m here and you’re not.”
“I’m having some car trouble,” Leigh said. “And I couldn’t call and reschedule because you never gave me your number.”
She had him there. Dean stood up with a sigh. “Where are you?”
“Why?” she asked suspiciously.
“Because I’m gonna have a pizza delivered to you,” he answered as he pushed the coffee shop door open and pulled his keys out of his pocket. “I’m gonna come pick you up, what do you think?”
“Oh.” Leigh paused. Her tone was slightly stiff when she spoke again. “You don’t have to--”
“Do you have anybody else to call?” he challenged.
She sighed heavily. “No one that can get here right this second.”
“Then what are we still talking about it for?” He jogged across the street to his car and slid into the driver's seat. “Text me some directions.”
****
Leigh was leaning against the rear bumper of the car when Dean pulled onto the shoulder of the road. He couldn’t help giving an appreciative whistle as he got out. The dark blue, vintage muscle car wasn’t what he’d expected to see when he got there. He eyed the long lines of it in surprise.
Her mouth seemed to want to tug into a grin, but she resisted. “Keep the cat calling to a minimum; she’s a lady.”
“I’m not sure I can. That's one sexy car, Leigh.” He stepped closer, wondering...“What year is this?”
“64 and 1/2,” she said, patting the mustang’s bumper. “And normally she’s really nice to me, but today she’s being stubborn.” She indicated the flat tire and the jack. “One of the lugs is rusted. I can’t get it loose.”
Dean took his leather jacket off and draped it over the trunk of the car. “How’d you get this anyway?” he asked.
“The way most people get cars,” Leigh said, watching him as he pushed up his sleeves. “By buying them. And what are you about to do?”
“Help with your tire,” he said slowly. “Unless you want to leave it like this.”
“Hey, if you think you can do it, feel free.”
He grinned at her. “Watch and learn, babe.”
Leigh crossed her arms and leaned back against the hood of his car. “I’m prepared to be impressed.”
Dean leaned down and gripped the wrench. Leigh’s eyebrows went up as he pulled. He had a lean build, which contributed to his amazing speed on the field, but there was some serious muscle stretching the thin cotton of his Henley shirt. She bit her lip as he leaned into the wrench. She couldn’t hold back a shiver as she watched the smooth shift of muscle on his back. She wrapped her coat more tightly around her midsection. It had to be cold. There was no way that the shiver was related to him. No way.
“There you go.” Dean tugged the tire off and slid the spare on.
“I can handle the rest,” Leigh said quickly, stepping forward. The faster she could send him on his way the better. She didn’t know what was wrong with her today. She didn’t even like the guy!
“Yeah, so can I,” Dean said, waving her off. “I’ve already got the jacket off, might as well let me work.”
“I just don’t want you hurting my baby.�
� And, more importantly, she wanted him out of there before he saw her blushing. She definitely needed to get a date. It had been way too long if a guy changing a tire was affecting her like this.
“My uncle Jay is a mechanic,” Dean said, kneeling down and tightening bolts. “He used to let me hang around his shop while he worked.” He looked up at her, catching her staring. “What about you?”
“I never hung around your Uncle Jay’s shop,” she quipped.
“Ha ha.” Dean stood up and lowered the jack, pulling it out. “You put the jack in the right place and you got everything but one bolt. You obviously know something. Where’d you learn?”
“My dad taught me. He said that if I was going to own a classic car, I should know what the problems were.”
“You’re doing a good job.” Dean looked at the car. “I can see myself in the paint, for God’s sake.”
Leigh grinned in spite of herself. “Helpful when I have to touch up my makeup.”
He took a close look at her face, leaning in and studying it. She raised her chin, determined not to look uncomfortable. “You don’t wear makeup.”
“Not to see you,” she replied, but he saw the amusement in her dark blue eyes. “But for important things...”
Dean laughed, enjoying the fact that she did too. He’d never heard her laugh before. She had a sexy laugh. Lower than he’d thought it would be and almost dirty sounding. He found himself hoping to hear it again as he leaned against the car beside her.
The past two times they’d spoken, he’d been only too happy to see her flounce away. Today, he didn’t care how late she was making him. Hanging out with her wasn’t all bad.
“So,” she said, pushing her hands more deeply into her pockets. She could feel his heat just standing beside him. She couldn’t remember the name of the cologne that he was wearing, but she knew she liked it. It was a little citrusy and woodsy at the same time and it smelled so good that it was all she could think about for a second. “Um, what do you think?”
“I think it’ll be fine,” he said. “I mean, you should probably go get a new tire, but your spare is in good shape--”
“No, I mean about the assignment.” She had to get them back on stable ground. She was liking Dean Harper way too much right this second.
“The assignment?” Dean asked blankly. He’d never noticed just how long Leigh’s legs were before. And the curves under that plain jacket were distracting as hell. The girl had a body, that was for sure.
“Yeah, the list I gave you?”
Dean froze. He was pretty sure that it was still in his other jacket pocket. Exactly where he’d shoved it three days ago after she’d pissed him off so badly. “Uh, I haven’t...I mean...” He wasn’t usually this inarticulate.
“You didn’t read it, did you?”
Something about the disappointment on her face made him feel guilty. It wasn’t a feeling he enjoyed. “No, okay, I haven’t, but--”
Leigh shook her head, her long hair flying in the strong autumn wind. She was so angry that he hadn’t even bothered to read the list that her father’s advice was totally forgotten. “I can’t believe this!”
“I’ve been busy!” Dean defended himself.
“Doing what?” she demanded. “What were you so busy doing that it could have prevented you from reading one little list and making one little decision?”
Okay, now he remembered why he didn’t like her. Sexy laugh or not, she was so damn sure that he couldn’t possibly have anything meaningful to do. He’d been practicing and working out and trying not to fail his other classes and have a social life at the same time, that was what he’d been doing.
“Stuff!” he shot back, unable to condense all of that into a pithy comment. God, she pissed him off.
Leigh rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m glad that it was important enough to be so memorable!”
“It was!” Dean answered. “You might know if you’d get a damn life instead of sitting around worrying about one stupid project!”
“I have a life,” she snapped. “And this is part of it! I’m not paying to go to this school so I can screw around!”
“Neither am I!”
“Yeah, because you got a scholarship to throw a ball!”
“I got a scholarship because I can run the ball,” Dean corrected, clearly annoyed now. “At least get the position you’re insulting right!”
“Good for you.” Leigh dug her keys out of her pocket and stomped toward the car. “And I’ll keep that important information in mind.”
Dean caught up with her in two long strides. “Hang on. I’m sick and damn tired of you walking away from me.”
“I’m sick and damn tired of you ignoring me!”
“I’m not!” he shouted. “I’ve showed up both times you asked!”
“And you didn’t do anything!” Leigh yanked the car door open. “We’ve wasted an entire week. I’m going to talk to Professor Kennedy in the morning.”
Dean grabbed the car door. “Come on, my grade in there is low enough.”
“Then I guess you should have done something.” Leigh looked up at him, her full lips pressed into a firm line. “Let go of my door and back off.”
He was too close. She could feel the heat again, but this time she thought that it was probably anger. She was dangerously close to starting to shake. He pushed one hand through his crew cut and took a step back.
“Look, I’m not trying to freak you out--”
“I’m not freaked out!” Her voice was too high. “There’s no point in talking about this anymore. I’ve got five weeks to do six weeks’ worth of work and I’m going to ask for a partner who actually gives a damn about the grade they get.”
She dropped into the seat and slammed the door. Dean grabbed his jacket off of the trunk of the mustang and stomped back to his car as she pulled out onto the road.
Chapter 4
The next day, Leigh waited until class was over and then took a deep breath before approaching Professor Kennedy’s desk. The professor had said that she couldn’t switch, but maybe someone else was having the same trouble with their partner. Surely Professor Kennedy wouldn’t let her take a forty percent hit on her grade just because she wanted to help Dean Harper realize his potential.
“Can I talk to you?”
“Sure,” Professor Kennedy said, glancing up from her papers. “Uh oh. That’s a serious face.”
She needed to sound rational, not hysterical. Logic was the answer here. “Well, I just wondered--”
There was a rustle and flurry of movement and Leigh caught her breath when Dean slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close in a friendly side hug. She stood stiffly in the circle of his arm wondering just what the hell he thought he was doing.
“So, we mainly had a question about our topic,” he said. “We’ve got two options. One is mental health services for kids in foster care and the other one is community gardening.”
Leigh blinked at him in shock. His arm was still around her shoulders and he gave her a casual smile. She could see the question behind it though. She sighed. The community gardening idea had been down near the bottom of the list. He’d clearly read it. More than that, he’d remembered. She’d take her dad’s advice and pile on the honey.
“Well, which one interests you the most?” the professor asked, leaning forward.
“Uh...” Dean trailed off. “Well...” He was clearly out of ideas.
“I’m much more interested in the mental health services,” Leigh said. “But we’re thinking that the community gardening benefits might be easier to prove.”
“Understandable,” Professor Kennedy said, leaning back. “However, I think that with proper research, the first topic could be very well done and much more interesting than what usually crosses my desk.”
Dean nodded. “That’s what I thought too,” he lied smoothly. “So, does that answer your question, Leigh?”
Leigh smiled sweetly up at him and then glanced back at her p
rofessor. “It’s too late to switch partners, isn’t it?”
Professor Kennedy laughed. “I think you’re doing fine.”
Dean ruffled Leigh’s hair and steered her out into the hallway with him.
“Happy now?” he asked once they were out of earshot.
Honey. Honey and not vinegar, no matter how badly it got under her skin that he’d lied to her favorite professor and made her look like she was the one who was dragging her feet. “It all depends on how serious you are about getting to work.”