Starting tomorrow, he was going to spend every waking hour focused on football and his players. And if that didn’t work, maybe he could pack himself in ice.
That ought to do it.
Holly woke up slowly, feeling a delicious warmth running through her body. She stretched, thoroughly and with pleasure, feeling how delightful it was to move, to use her muscles. She must have gotten a really good night’s sleep, she decided.
Then her dream came flooding back. Alex. She’d dreamed about Alex last night.
She’d fantasized plenty, but she’d never had an honest to goodness dream about him. Or any man. Not like that, anyway. Come to think of it, this was the first sexy dream she’d ever had in her life.
It had been so real. Alex above her, Alex inside her, Alex surrounding her. It had been so real that the sexual languor started to wear off and embarrassment took its place.
Which was ridiculous, of course. She had no control over her dreams. And she was attracted to Alex, even though she had no plans of ever telling him that, so it wasn’t all that surprising that he’d pop up in her subconscious now and again.
Holly glanced at the clock. She’d gone to bed early so she’d be able to wake up early, and it had worked. It was six-thirty in the morning; she’d beaten the alarm by half an hour. She could get up, shower, dress, have breakfast with Will and still be at work by eight.
The only problem was, she didn’t want to move. She wanted to lie here with her eyes closed and imagine Alex touching her.
Suddenly disgusted with herself, Holly threw off the covers and slid her legs out to the floor. The weather had turned cooler last night and the floorboards were cold against her bare feet, sending a good bracing shiver through her as she headed for the bathroom. She added a good bracing shower, followed by a careful application of minimal, professional makeup. She picked out the most sober of all the outfits she’d bought yesterday, a dark gray wool pantsuit with a subdued pinstripe of lighter gray. Under it she wore a utilitarian bra and a gray cashmere turtleneck. Add to that her trusty chignon and a pair of low heels and she was ready to face the world.
Her head high and her steps brisk, she headed downstairs to see if Will was up before her. Alex would probably still be asleep, since his day started late and ended late.
Only he wasn’t asleep. He was right there in the kitchen when she came around the corner, and she actually crashed into him before she could stop herself.
He jumped away from her like he’d been shot.
“Holly!” he said, backing up to the other end of the kitchen. She must really have startled him.
And then, just as she’d feared, the sight of him brought back her dream in living color and she felt herself blushing. “Um, is Will up yet?” she asked to cover.
“Yes, he’s—”
“Here I am, Mom. Wow, you’re up early! I told Coach you wouldn’t be awake until twenty minutes before you had to leave for work.”
“Right. Well, I wanted to get an early start. You, too, I see. And you, Alex.”
“I’m on my way out the door now,” he said quickly. “And I’ll be back pretty late tonight. Go ahead and have dinner without me. I’ve got a lot of administrative chores to take care of, and then there’s the Steeltown game to prepare for. I’ll see you at practice, Will.” He started to head for the back door.
“Hey, Coach!” Will called out.
“What?” Alex answered over his shoulder, sounding impatient.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked significantly, indicating his mother.
Alex looked back at her, nonplussed. “Oh. Right.” He paused a moment, frowning, and then backtracked for the living room.
“What’s going on?” Holly asked Will.
“You’ll see,” he said.
Alex came back carrying a gaily if inexpertly wrapped package.
“Here,” he said without much ceremony, plunking it down on the kitchen table in front of Holly. “Something for you that Will and I picked up yesterday.”
Holly had forgotten the present that the two of them had hidden from her. She ripped open the bright paper and gasped when she saw all the CDs that spilled out.
“These are all… How did you…” She got it suddenly and smiled at her son. “You told him what to get.” She turned the smile on Alex. “And you spent way, way too much money on these. I should be mad, but…this really helps,” she said. “I mean, I know we’re not going to recreate everything we had, but this—well, this helps a lot. Thank you.”
“Anytime,” Alex said. “I mean it, Holly. You and Will lost so much, and it’s going to take a long time to put it all back together again, but if I can do anything to help, you only have to ask.”
She smiled at him a little crookedly, and he smiled back at her, the warmth she’d begun to rely on lighting up his blue eyes.
“Have dinner without me tonight,” he said again, heading to the back door. “See you later, Will. I hope you have a good day back at work, Holly.”
“Thanks,” she answered, but he was out the door and she didn’t think he’d heard her.
A little odd, but very sweet, was Alex McKenna. If someone had told her seventy-two hours ago that’s how she’d be characterizing him today, she would have laughed at them.
A few minutes later Holly was sliding one of her new CDs into the car stereo and backing out of Alex’s driveway.
She’d picked one at random and it turned out to be Van Morrison, an album she hadn’t listened to in a while. The music tugged at her, and she remembered the conversation yesterday between Alex and Will. About music being a map of your soul.
She braked at a stoplight and her fingers drummed against the steering wheel. She wasn’t sure she wanted anyone running around with a map of her soul. Definitely not Alex.
Just as she was thinking that the light turned green and the next song began. It was “Moondance,” and in the blink of an eye Holly was engulfed in an old memory.
It was prom night, and Brian, now a freshman in college, had come home to be her escort. They were still boyfriend and girlfriend, and Holly was sure she loved him, although he seemed even busier and more ambitious now that he was actually taking the pre-law classes he’d dreamed about.
Still, he had taken the time to come home for her prom. Holly appreciated the gesture even though they didn’t really have a good time. Not a bad time exactly, just not a good time. Neither of them was big on dancing. Brian would never engage in anything so frivolous, and Holly was too shy to dance in public, although she loved to bop around in her room at home.
They decided to leave early. Brian went to say his goodbyes and get their coats, while Holly went to get one more glass of punch.
She was waiting for Brian at the edge of the dance floor, gazing wistfully at all the couples—the band had just started to play Van Morrison’s “Moondance,” which was one of her favorite songs—when someone came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist.
She could tell it wasn’t Brian. There was something a little too…well, physical…in the way those arms felt against her, in the way those hands moved slowly over her hips.
“Want to dance?” a voice said softly in her ear, and Holly twisted around to see Alex McKenna standing there, his face only inches from hers, his blue eyes glinting with mischief and something else.
Holly pulled away sharply, angry at the way her body had responded before she’d known it was him.
She had caught glimpses of Alex all evening, dancing with a dozen different girls—bad girls mostly, including her friend Brenda, but a few good girls, too—all of whom had seemed only too happy to be in his company.
Holly had noticed the contrast between his partners and herself. Her dress had a high collar and big puffy sleeves, and the white satin material made it look a little like a wedding gown. The girls Alex favored tended to wear red or black, cut low in the front or the back or both, with spaghetti straps or no straps at all. Some of them had come here with d
ates, some alone, but all of them seemed more interested in Alex than any other guy in the room.
Alex had come stag, of course. He wasn’t exactly the boyfriend or prom date type. Truth be told, Holly had been surprised to see him here at all, and in a tux no less.
Of course he didn’t look like any of the other boys, despite being dressed exactly the same. He had none of the stiff, awkward formality that made them look like kids playing dress up. In fact, he looked oddly debonair, with his bleached blond hair looking natural for once instead of spiked up, and wearing his tux easily, comfortably, as if he’d been born in it.
“I know you want to dance,” he said now, his eyes challenging her to deny it. “I’ve been watching you move your hips to the music while stick-in-the-mud Brian lectures about life.”
His eyes were bright as he stepped close to her. “Just one dance, Holly,” he said seductively, his mouth near enough that she got a whiff of his breath.
“You’re drunk,” she said accusingly, taking a step back.
He grinned at her wickedly. “Maybe a little,” he admitted.
She glared at him suspiciously. “You didn’t spike the punch, did you? Because if you did—”
“You’ll tell on me? Don’t worry, Holly, you don’t need to get your panties in a twist. I didn’t spike the punch.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small silver flask. “See? Just for me. You and your boring friends don’t have to worry.”
“My friends are not boring.”
Alex slipped the flask back in his pocket. “Well, maybe not as boring as your date. Where is the college boy, by the way?”
“He’s getting our coats,” she said stiffly. “We’re going home.”
“Right.” Alex pulled back a little. “Heading out to do the nasty, I suppose,” he said, his voice unconcerned.
“Of course not,” Holly snapped. “God, Alex, why do you always have to be so crude?”
He stared at her. “You’re leaving your prom early and it’s not to have sex?”
“That’s right,” Holly said coldly. “Brian respects me.”
“He respects you,” Alex repeated. He shook his head slowly. “What I’m thinking right now can’t be true. It’s too pathetic even for Brian. But is it possible he’s been dating you for two years and never in all that time made a move?”
Holly glared at him. “Of course he’s made a move. Brian’s a fantastic kisser.” Actually that wasn’t the case, but she’d be damned if she’d let Alex know it.
“A fantastic kisser. Right. I’m not talking about kissing, Holly. Have. You. Had. Sex.”
“Of course not!” Holly said, outraged that he’d asked her that and outraged that she was even standing here having this conversation. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”
Alex took two quick steps and grabbed her by the shoulders, looking at her with unexpected intensity in his blue eyes.
“A girl who deserves to be with a guy who appreciates what he’s got. If you were mine, Holly, I’d seduce you every night of your life. I’d throw you on the back of my bike and take you somewhere private, somewhere I could find out what’s underneath all this.”
His eyes roved downward, and in spite of her high collar and puffy sleeves Holly felt exposed under his gaze, vulnerable. His hands moved to her waist, and she had been so slender back then that his thumbs and fingers had almost met as they circled her. She had never realized how big and powerful his hands were, and yet his touch was unexpectedly gentle.
She had never felt so fragile and feminine. Brian’s hands were much smaller.
His eyes met hers again. They were so blue, so penetrating, and they seemed to see things other people didn’t. Things that no one should see. When he spoke his voice was low, and rough with some quality she couldn’t name.
“Brian doesn’t seem very curious about what’s inside this package, but I am. Why are you with him, Holly? Why do you hide behind all this?” Somehow she guessed he wasn’t just talking about her prom dress.
His hands were still on her waist, but now they moved up her torso, slowly, until his thumbs just brushed the underside of her breasts.
She’d never felt like this before. There was a strange, hollow feeling in all of her bones. She closed her eyes, unable to move, and when Alex spoke again his voice was right by her ear.
“You don’t belong with him,” he whispered.
She was standing on the edge of an abyss. One step and she’d go over.
Her eyes flew open. “I hate you,” she spat at him, finally finding her voice. She shoved him away from her and looked desperately around for Brian, furious at herself for the melting heat she’d felt at his words, for the goose bumps he’d raised with his touch and most of all for how long it had taken her to push him away.
Alex backed off. “Maybe you hate me, but at least I’m alive,” he said nastily. “Near as I can tell, Brian’s ready for the undertaker. And you? Let’s see, what’s the word I’m looking for? Starts with F and rhymes with rigid—”
Brian finally made his appearance, saving Holly from making a scene at her own prom by punching Alex in the face. She’d grabbed Brian by the arm and stormed away, refusing to look back at Alex and unable to speak until she’d had a few minutes to cool down.
But that hadn’t been the end of that memorable evening. With Alex’s words and Alex’s taunting expression playing over and over in her head, Holly had practically attacked Brian in the front seat of his car.
Abruptly, Holly came back to the present.
Oh, well, at least she could laugh about it now. Sort of. And one good thing had come out of that night. A great thing, actually. Will.
Holly sighed as she pulled into the company parking lot. Alex had always had the ability to get under her skin, whether he was making her furious or making her hot. The night of the prom…yesterday in her bedroom…last night’s dream.
At least she didn’t have to worry about him flirting with her anymore. Ever since she’d asked him to stop doing that with her, he’d gone along with her request. She’d asked for friendship and that’s what she was getting.
And Alex’s friendship was a gift she should be grateful for. He was generous and kind, and he made her laugh, and Will was crazy about him. That was what she wanted. A good, safe friendship. Not the other stuff. The dangerous, pulse-accelerating, nitroglycerin stuff.
Yes, Alex was giving her what she wanted. Trying to not feel depressed at that knowledge and resolving to put Alex firmly out of her mind for the next eight hours, Holly stepped out of her car and prepared to once again take the world of financial planning by storm.
Chapter Seven
Well, it was working. Sort of. Alex supposed he should consider himself lucky that Steeltown was going to present such a challenge Friday night. Preparing for the game kept him from thinking about Holly every five minutes.
Unfortunately, he didn’t feel that lucky. Steeltown was big and mean, and had a reputation for playing dirty. Late hits, personal fouls, all the things no coach liked to think about, especially with a young, light, inexperienced squad.
He worked his kids hard, telling them in no uncertain terms that the team they were about to face, on their turf, was going to be their toughest test yet.
He was proud of them, Alex thought when he’d wrapped things up and sent them to the showers. If guts and hard work could do it, they’d hold their own against Steeltown Friday night.
Now if only he could hold his own against Holly Stanton.
Last night they’d eaten at the mall after their afternoon of shopping. Tonight, Alex stayed resolutely in his office until he figured Will and Holly had finished dinner, trying not to think of how fun it would be to share a meal with them at his big dining room table, the one he hardly ever used since he usually ate off a TV tray in the living room.
It was easy to imagine what it would be like. Mother and son would talk and laugh and include him in all their jokes and affection and warmth. Alex was amazed at how
much he wanted that, and then realized he was having a fantasy about Holly that for once had absolutely nothing to do with sex.
Alex sighed and filed the last of his paperwork, grabbing his jacket from the door and turning out the light. He shut and locked his office door and walked along the silent, empty corridor toward the exit.
Sometimes it felt a little strange to be back in this place. It also made the don’t-think-about-Holly project tougher, since his memories of high school were all intertwined with memories of Holly. It was good to be back, too, though. It gave him a chance to redeem himself, to make up for the mistakes he’d made as a teenager by helping other kids avoid them.
As hard as it was to live in the same town as Holly Stanton, Alex knew he belonged here, at least for now. He liked this town and he liked the kids he was coaching. He believed in them. They needed him. Well, they needed someone, anyway, and he’d do until someone better came along.
Alex grinned as he pulled into his driveway. Hell, he even liked his drafty old house. He was almost looking forward to the off-season, when he’d have time to take care of it. By then, maybe Holly and Will would be gone and he could get his sanity back, too.
Alex walked through the front door and knew immediately that something was different. He turned on the light and looked around.
The place was clean. Someone had vacuumed, and dusted and done something that made the whole place smell fresh and crisp and lemony.
“Alex, is that you?” Holly called out as she came out of the kitchen, wearing jeans and his Pittsburgh Steelers T-shirt. He was going to let her keep it, because to ever wear it himself after it had been on her, drenched in her warmth and her scent, was not going to be possible. She was holding some kind of cleanser in one hand and she looked guilty.
“What did you do?” he asked suspiciously.
She looked guiltier. “I’m sorry, Alex. I didn’t mean to do the whole stereotype. You know, waltz into the bachelor’s house and wield domestic tyranny. It’s just I don’t think you’ve dusted since, well, forever, and I didn’t want Will developing asthma or anything. Especially now that I’m counting on him to get a football scholarship, join the NFL and buy me a yacht.”
Winning the Right Brother Page 9