Winning the Right Brother

by Abigail Strom

  Okay, so some things hadn’t changed.

  Alex had always been a flirt. He never bragged about his conquests the way some guys did, but his relationships had always been…casual. Casual and numerous.

  He was running the table now, amidst loud cheers. The single mom was cheering the loudest, and Holly felt a sudden wave of depression. She felt out of place in her work clothes, out of place in the midst of this boisterous, celebratory group.

  She was just tired, that was all. It had been a long work week and she hadn’t planned on going out tonight.

  She found her son playing video games with his friends. “I’m feeling a little beat, honey. Do you mind if I head out now? I asked the Washingtons to drive you home so you don’t have to leave the party early.”

  “No problem, Mom,” Will said, giving her a quick grin before turning back to his game.

  A few minutes later Holly was standing in the brightly lit parking lot, looking ruefully at her left rear tire. It was flat as a pancake. She remembered the broken glass in the stadium parking lot, which she’d thought she’d avoided.

  Apparently not.

  She thought briefly about going back inside for Will, but she knew he was still having fun. And, anyway, she was perfectly capable of changing a flat tire by herself. She’d been doing it for fifteen years.

  She opened her trunk to get the spare.

  Alex sat out the next pool game, but there was still a crowd around him—fans of the Weston Wildcats and parents bubbling over with enthusiasm for their sons’ new football coach.

  He was familiar with this kind of instant popularity. If they lost their game next week, it would just as instantly evaporate. But victory celebrations were always fun and he was enjoying himself, listening respectfully to one father’s analysis of the game, when he caught sight of a familiar redhead walking away from the crowd.

  “Absolutely,” he said. “That’s a good point about our pass defense. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s another parent I need to say hello to.”

  He was determined to talk to Holly again tonight. On the drive over from the stadium, he’d decided to try one more time to have a normal conversation with her. The past shouldn’t define the present. The relaxed atmosphere of the Texas Grill was the perfect setting—he could buy her a drink or challenge her to a game of pool. He refused to believe that two rational adults couldn’t get past whatever friction still lingered from their high school days.

  He saw her exchange a few words with Will, but before he could catch up to her she disappeared out the back door.

  He paused, frowning. He thought about asking Will why she was leaving early, but it wasn’t really any of his business. She was probably just tired.

  It was none of his business, he reminded himself as he followed her out to the parking lot. But he’d check on her, anyway, just to make sure she was all right.

  He saw her as soon as he stepped outside. She was over by her car, looking down at what was obviously a flat tire. After a moment she opened her trunk for the spare.

  He crossed the parking lot toward her, noticing that the cool evening breeze was ruffling her hair, teasing strands out of the complicated bun. He came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head quickly, and when she saw it was him she pulled away, just like she’d done after the game. He dropped his hand and took a step back.

  “Need some help?” he asked, gesturing toward the flat.

  “No,” she said, reaching into the trunk for the spare and laying it on the ground. She set the iron and jack down next to it and shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it into the car.

  “Come on, Holly. Changing a tire is a two-person job. Admit you need help.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew they were the wrong ones. Holly stiffened as she knelt down on the ground, grabbing for the tire iron.

  “I do not need help. And even if I did, I wouldn’t need yours.”

  Her words stung, childish as they were. “Fine,” he said. There was a pickup truck parked next to them and he leaned back against it, folding his arms.

  She glared up at him as she placed the iron over the first wheel lug. “That was your cue to go back to your adoring fans. Why are you still here?”

  “On the off chance you come off your high horse and realize you need me. That’s a moment I don’t want to miss.”

  “I hope you enjoy disappointment,” she said before using both hands to bear down on the tire iron in an effort to loosen the nut—to no avail.

  She sat back on her heels.

  “I can bench press two hundred and eighty pounds,” he said.

  She gave him a dirty look before picking the iron up again.

  Her blouse was silk, a soft peach color, and through it he could see the outline of her bra. Her hair was starting to come down, tendrils clinging damply to the back of her neck. Perspiration made her skin glow.

  Thirty seconds later, the nut hadn’t budged.

  “I eat lugs like that for breakfast,” he told her.

  She glared at him over her shoulder. “Do you mind? I’m trying to concentrate.”

  “I could change that for you in a minute flat.”

  “No, you couldn’t.”

  He grinned at her. “Twenty bucks says I can.”

  She turned her back on him and picked up the iron again. And this time, after a breathless, all-or-nothing effort, she actually succeeded in loosening the nut.

  He didn’t need to see her face to know she was feeling triumphant—he could read it in the line of her shoulders and the satisfied tilt of her head.

  “Very impressive. But you know you have to do it three more times, right?”

  “Shut up, Alex.”

  Maybe it was the flush of success, but she didn’t have any trouble with the other three lugs. She ignored him completely as she moved the jack underneath the car and began to crank it up.

  But when she was struggling to position the heavy spare over the wheel studs, he decided enough was enough.

  “Okay, you’ve made your point. Now let me hold that up for you while you get it aligned.”

  She set the spare down for a moment and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand—her first sign of weakness. But when he moved to pick it up she slapped his hand away.

  “No,” she said. “I’m not a damsel in distress.”

  “I’m not trying to rescue you,” he said in exasperation. “Just let me hold the tire while you fit it over the studs. Teamwork.”

  “I can do it myself.”

  “Come on, Holly. You’re just being stubborn.”

  “I’d rather be…stubborn than…helpless,” she panted as she finally managed to get the wheel in position. It only took her a few more minutes to tighten the lugs and lower the jack.

  “There,” she said in satisfaction, tossing her tools in the trunk and using an old rag to wipe off her greasy hands. “That wasn’t so hard.”

  “Right,” Alex said, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d be halfway home by now if you’d just let me—”

  “I can take care of myself, Alex. I don’t need anybody’s help.”

  Something else about her that hadn’t changed.

  The summer after their graduation, he’d heard that Holly was pregnant. He figured she and Brian would just step up their plans to get married and have the perfect yuppie life together. But when he found out how wrong he was, that Brian was turning his back on her, something inside him had snapped.

  He’d broken Brian’s jaw first. Then he’d gone over to her house and asked Holly to marry him.

  It was crazy, of course. A white knight impulse that had hit him out of the blue. There’d been no reason in the world to think she’d say yes, and considering their history of mutual dislike, every reason to think she’d say no.

  Still, her scornful refusal had stung.

  Just like it did tonight. The stakes had been higher then, but the feeling was the same.

  “I know yo
u don’t need my help, Holly. You’ve made that pretty clear. But that doesn’t mean you can’t accept it. What’s so terrible about being rescued once in a while? Why are you so damn stubborn?”

  She glared at him. “You’re calling me stubborn? I told you I didn’t need any help, but you insisted on staying out here, anyway. Why are you so damn stubborn?”

  “Uh…guys?” It was Will, standing a few feet away.

  How long had he been there? Alex glanced at Holly, who was looking as uncomfortable as he felt, and then back at Will, who was obviously confused by the tense conversation between his mom and his coach.

  “So,” Will said after a moment of awkward silence. “I guess you guys weren’t best friends back in the day, huh?”

  Holly took a deep breath and let it out again. “Not exactly,” she admitted. “But that was a long time ago, and I’m sure we can keep from arguing every time we see each other now. Can’t we, Alex?” she asked pointedly.

  Not in this lifetime.

  “Sure we can,” he said out loud.

  He glanced back at the restaurant and saw parents and their kids beginning to come out. “Is the party over already?”

  “Well, yeah. You guys were out here a long time.”

  “It wouldn’t have been so long if—no, I won’t start.” He shook his head. “Good night, Holly. Take it easy driving on that spare, okay? And, Will, I’ll see you in practice next week.”

  Lying awake, staring up at the ceiling, Holly kept replaying Alex’s words in her mind. What would it be like, she wondered. To let someone help her. To be rescued.

  She hated herself for even asking the question. She’d been strong and independent for so long. The moment she let herself think about some man sweeping in and taking care of her, it would be over. She’d be lost. She’d be giving in to weakness, and it would destroy her.

  She knew that. She knew it. And in case she was in any danger of doubting it, all she had to do was remember the day she’d gone to Brian with the news that she was pregnant.

  Yes, it was unexpected. Yes, it was years sooner than they’d planned. But Holly had never doubted that Brian would support her, marry her now instead of after law school like they’d talked about. She’d gone to him trustingly, sure he’d take care of her and their unborn child.

  It had been a long time since she’d thought about that day but the memory still hurt. The way he shouted at her that she was trying to ruin his life—his career.

  He wouldn’t have to quit school, she said. She could work part-time, and his parents might be willing to help. Her own parents hadn’t taken the news well when she first told them, but they’d come around. And her grandmother would help as much as she could.

  All she really wanted was to hear him say he loved her. That everything would be all right. That they’d figure things out together.

  “If you go through with this, Holly, you’re on your own. I won’t have anything to do with you or the baby.”

  Holly could still remember the pain of that rejection. It had felt like the end of the world.

  But it would never happen again. Because that was the last time she’d rely on someone else for any part of her happiness or welfare.

  She hadn’t spoken to Brian for four years after that. They seldom spoke now, although he saw Will once in a while. And she rarely spoke to her parents, who ended up kicking her out of the house after she refused to “take care” of the situation. They’d relented a few years later, asking to know their grandson, but Holly herself wasn’t close with them anymore.

  After Will was born, her friends had told her she should get a lawyer and sue Brian for child support. But she had refused. She had learned the one lesson that would become the cornerstone of her life: the only person you can trust is yourself. She wouldn’t ask Brian for a damn thing.

  Somehow she’d survived, even though she hadn’t let anyone help her that first year or two—not her friends, not even her grandmother. Once she’d proven to herself she could stand on her own feet, she was able to accept her grandmother’s love again, and be grateful for the way she doted on Will. And by that time Gran was nearly eighty and needed her almost as much as Will did, so Holly didn’t feel as if she was in any danger of losing her hard-won self-reliance.

  Except for Will, there was nothing more important to Holly than the independence she’d worked so hard to achieve. That’s why she could never let herself fantasize about some man rescuing her…including Alex McKenna.

  Especially Alex McKenna. He was already too dangerous to her sense of stability.

  As maddening as he was, he was also one of the few people who could get past her defenses. He caught her off guard. Made her feel things. Her heart rate picked up whenever he was around.

  Holly rolled her shoulders and tried to let go of some of the tension keeping her awake. So what if Alex had come back into her life? So what if he hadn’t lost his uncanny ability to get under her skin, to make her question herself? She’d been doing just fine before he came back to town, and she’d continue to do fine, thank you very much.

  She’d avoid him from now on, that was all. She’d go to Will’s games but she’d stay away from Alex, and with any luck, he’d stay away from her, too.

  She remembered how hard it had been to change that tire with him standing behind her, his presence making her hands tremble as she struggled to loosen the lugs. Knowing his eyes were on her had made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.

  She shivered now, thinking of those blue eyes. Then she thought of his chest, his shoulders, his smile, and her muscles turned to water. Damn her body, anyway. What kind of primitive programming made her stomach tie itself in knots whenever she saw him?

  It didn’t matter, she reminded herself firmly. Because from now on, she was going to stay away from Alex McKenna as if her life—or at least her sanity—depended on it.

  Chapter Three

  It would be a lot easier to forget about Alex if Will would stop talking about him day in, day out. How was she supposed to stop thinking about the man when he was her son’s favorite topic of conversation?

  The worst part was that the stories Will told made it harder to hate him. Will was a good judge of character, and he was crazy about Alex. Coach has such a great work ethic. Coach has so much integrity. Coach is so tough and smart and funny and—

  It was Sunday afternoon, and Holly and Will were eating pizza in front of the TV and watching—big surprise—a football game. During the commercial breaks Will treated her to more rave reviews of Alex the Great.

  “Mom, are you listening? Isn’t that amazing? Don’t you think Coach is—”

  “Amazing?”

  “Well, isn’t he?”

  Holly popped a mushroom into her mouth and licked tomato sauce off her fingers. “You bet. He’s a paragon.”

  Will folded his arms and frowned at her. “Why do you always do that when I talk about Coach?”

  “Do what?”

  “The sarcasm. The eye rolling. Did you guys really hate each other that much when you were in high school?”

  Holly sighed and leaned back against the sofa cushions. “Yes, we really did. Sorry. It’s just hard for me to see Alex the way you do. When I remember the way he used to be.”

  Will looked interested. “So, what was he like back then? When you were teenagers.”

  Holly pulled the purple-and-yellow crocheted throw off the back of the couch and tucked it around her knees. Her grandmother had made it, and it always gave her a feeling of security.

  “He was…irritating. So are you going to watch this game or what? ’Cause if not, I’m going to put on the financial news.”

  “Geez, Mom. If you don’t want to talk about Coach just say so. You don’t have to threaten me with unholy torture.”

  That Friday night, Will got to play for most of the second half. He completed seven passes, and Holly was pretty sure she’d never seen him so happy in his entire life.

  Of course she also saw Alex
, but she was getting used to that. Seeing him down there on the sidelines, fired up and intense, was becoming part of her Friday night routine—just like avoiding him was. But it was worth it to see Will so happy, so confident.

  She wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but she was actually starting to enjoy going to the games. She understood them better, for one thing, thanks to constant tutoring from her son. Then there was the crisp autumn air, the excitement of the crowd…and the fact that the Weston Wildcats were kicking butt.

  Of course there was still a little too much pummeling for her taste, especially when her only child was on the receiving end of it. But still, all in all, Holly was starting to enjoy Friday nights.

  So when a friend started off a sentence one day with, “I know you hate football, but—” she was surprised to hear herself say, “Oh, football’s not so bad.”

  Gina looked at her skeptically over her turkey club sandwich. “Since when is football not so bad?”

  Holly shrugged as she poured vinaigrette over her salad. “My son’s on his high school team and he’s sort of getting me into it. What were you going to say?”

  “Well.” Gina’s eyes sparkled as she leaned over the table. “You know my fiancé?”

  Holly raised her eyebrows. “Pretty well, yes. Considering the fact that I’ve worked with Henry for six years and actually introduced the two of you.”

  Gina grinned. “Okay, you get all the credit for my future marital bliss. And now I’m going to return the favor.”

  Holly took a bite of salad. “Uh-huh. And you’ll be doing this how?”

  “By fixing you up with your future husband, of course.”

  Holly sighed. “Gina, I love you, but we’ve been through this before. Do you remember the last time you fixed me up with my future husband?”

  Gina waved it away. “Mark looked good on paper, didn’t he? Nice guy, stable job, easy on the eyes. I thought he was perfect for you. And you liked him in the beginning.”