Slow and Steady Rush

by Laura Trentham

  “Whenever we had a fight, you’d invariably bike over bearing a plateful of cookies.”

  Darcy poked at the sodden mass of napkins, avoiding Kat’s knowing gaze. “I love Ada and want to help her get better. I should be happy to come home.”

  “But?” Kat leaned forward on her arms.

  “But … I’m up for a promotion at work. This months-long sojourn isn’t going to look good. I’m already the youngest one in the running. I keep getting calls and texts from my temporary replacement. Am I being a selfish brat for worrying about my job?”

  “You’re entitled to some resentment. Your life has been turned upside down. But, you did come home, and you’ll stay as long as Ada needs you. Right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

  Darcy heaved a sigh and fanned herself with the menu. “I swear to God, in Atlanta, I’m totally professional and competent. I step one foot over the city limits, and I’m pulled over by Rick, get drunk and disorderly at The Tavern, and—” For some reason, she was hesitant to confess Robbie had caught her skinny-dipping.

  Kat heaved a relieved sigh when Mitch put a full paper bag and two drinks complete with lids and straws on the table. She handed the man a twenty-dollar bill. “Come on or we’ll be stuck watching with the retirees.”

  “Have you been taken into an alien ship and brainwashed? You couldn’t care less about football.”

  “True. But I love hot men, and the new coaches are on fire. Your cousin included. The army sure cleaned him up nice.” Kat cuffed Darcy’s wrist, and she was pulled along in Kat’s wake. Nothing new about that. Kat was an elemental force unto herself.

  They trailed behind a group of tittering, well-dressed women who strangely seemed to be headed toward the summer practice field too. The towered lights of the main stadium were the tallest structures in town and stood farther down the road.

  “Your cousin really stuck his neck out for Dalt. I hope it pays off.”

  “What do you mean? Did Logan pull some strings? I didn’t think Logan even had strings to pull.”

  Kat slowed their pace, and they fell behind the group. “The school board meetings have been like watching Days of Our Lives or something. The drama. First of all, we’re still recovering from the Coach Hiddleston drug scandal.”

  “Ada told me all about it. Is the loser still in jail?”

  “Yep. No coach worth anything has wanted to touch Falcon’s program for the last five years. Our record was a measly two and six last year. Of course, Perkins has been salivating for the job since Hiddleston got sent up.”

  Darcy shook her head and chuffed. “According to Logan, there is no way Perkins didn’t at least know about the steroids even if Hiddleston was the one who distributed them.”

  “Innocent until proven guilty,” Kat said with a definite ironic lilt. “I happen to agree, but none of the boys implicated him. Anyway, this spring the board did something shocking and most unlike them.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Got their heads out of their asses and hired an outsider. Logan lobbied hard for his army buddy.”

  “Robbie,” Darcy said in a near whisper.

  “On a first name basis with Coach Dalton, are we?”

  “He’s the one who drove me home last night.” Darcy looked up at the cloudless blue sky and blinding sun.

  “Well, well … how interesting.”

  Regret tingled in her heart. “Nothing happened, of course.”

  The gaggle of women made their way across the open field, trotting as if they had cloven hooves to keep their pointed heels from sinking into the soft ground. Darcy was the only one without makeup and in sensible running shoes.

  Kat slipped off her jacket and climbed to the top row of the aluminum bleachers. Darcy perched on the edge of the scalding metal next to her. Three contingents crowded in. Overdressed youngish women on the prowl, middle-aged motherly women checking on their young, and old retired men attempting to prognosticate the season. The buzz of the female voices filled the air like a hive—some shrill, some throaty, but all reflecting an excitement bordering on arousal.

  The boys ran on the field in workout clothes and tossed their pads aside. They started suicide runs from the 50-yard line. Granted, some of the players were big, manly looking dudes, but were any of them even eighteen?

  “Kat, this is probably illegal and definitely creepy.”

  “Don’t worry, we’re not here for them. We’re here for … them.” Kat pointed a red-tipped finger and sighed like a third-grader seeing her favorite boy-band on the cover of a magazine.

  Out ran five grown men. Four of them hotter than sin.

  One was her cousin … so, ick.

  One was Robbie … gay and taken.

  One was a burly, handsome black man. Kat’s gaze followed him to the nearest end zone.

  One was a stranger with a tall, lean build. He threw tight spirals with two boys on the far sideline.

  The fifth man was older, fatter, grumpier. He spit a mouthful of tobacco and yelled at the offensive line until his face was as red as a full-bellied tick. Coach Perkins. Obviously, his panties were still in a wad about not getting the head job.

  A mangy-looking three-legged dog trotted up and down the field and retrieved stray balls. Its face was black, its body tan, and its ears cocked and alert. It didn’t bark or chase the boys, and an innate intelligence shined in the way it anticipated the trajectory of the balls. It checked in frequently with Robbie, who caressed the dog’s head and earned affectionate nudges.

  Darcy leaned close to Kat. “Who’s that working with the quarterbacks?”

  “Alec Grayson. He was a highly touted QB in the NFL before he got hurt. He’s a contractor, new to town, and he’s single.” Kat shot her a side-eye glance and a half-smile.

  “Good grief, I’m not looking to date while I’m home, Kat.”

  “What happened with you and your boss?”

  “Gavin was not my boss. He’s on the library’s board of directors. I went out with him twice. Huge mistake.” Darcy tried but failed not to sound like a prude. “He tried to charm me into bed on the second date.”

  “Oh, the horror of having a successful man find you attractive.”

  At Kat’s mocking tone, Darcy elbowed her in the ribs.

  A woman with a smile on her face, malice in her voice, and a steel rod implanted up her butt interrupted their teasing laughter. “Darcy Wilde. How long are you staying in town?”

  The woman tossed blonde hair with dark brown roots over her shoulder. Recognition jolted Darcy. Sheila Robinson had graduated high school with Logan and married a star wide receiver turned town dentist. She had also been the woman talking to Rick last night.

  “As long as Ada needs me.” Darcy’s gaze ricocheted back to the field. Not to the hot, available quarterback coach, but to Robbie. The epitome of masculine power and grace, he ran wind sprints with the cornerbacks and wide receivers.

  “You left with Coach Dalton last night.” Sheila’s accusatory tone was out of place and disconcerting. She crossed her feet at the ankles and cocked her head toward Darcy with an arrogance only upper-crust Southern women can emulate. Darcy had never perfected the skill. “What are your plans?”

  Some of the women cast her curious looks from the corner of their eyes and others turned away as if embarrassed by Sheila’s cattiness, but the entire semicircle seemed to lean in with their ears.

  Darcy tucked a few pieces of stray hair back into her ponytail, and her shoulders sloped in a defensive posture she’d worked hard to correct since high school. “My plans with respect to what? Dinner tonight? Does James know you’re out here gawking at other men?”

  Swift intakes of breath huffed around them. “James and I are separated. And thank you for bringing it up. As if everyone doesn’t know he cheated on me with that … that floozy of a hygienist.” Sheila’s tears looked real.

  Darcy felt about as big as a fire ant and jus
t as hated. “I’m sorry, Sheila, I honestly—”

  “It was embarrassing to watch you throw yourself at Dalt last night. As if he would be interested in you.”

  Any embarrassment melted under her anger. They were both grown women now, and Darcy refused to cow to her. “Are you dating him?”

  Sheila narrowed her eyes but stayed silent.

  “Of course not. So, why are you insulting me and acting like I’m poaching in your territory?”

  Kat laid a hand on Darcy’s knee and squeezed, her voice jokey. “Settle down ladies. We’re a little beyond playground fights over boys, aren’t we?”

  Darcy jerked her knee out of Kat’s grasp and rose, shifting the lamp to her hip. This was exactly the kind of thing she’d wanted to escape when she left for college. The women were silent as Darcy stomped down the rows of bleachers. The distinctive clang of heels on metal sounded behind her. Kat caught up with her halfway to the gray concrete cube that housed the public restrooms.

  “Thanks for backing me up,” Darcy said, unable to stop frustration from biting through her words.

  “You should thank me. Sheila has turned positively rabid since James left her. No offense, but she would rip you to threads. The woman is cray-cray.” Kat circled her temple with her forefinger.

  They propped themselves on the far side of the bathrooms, out of sight from the bleachers. Darcy set the lamp on the ground, and Kat handed her a sandwich. She took a bite, but between the heat and the confrontation with Sheila, her appetite was nonexistent.

  “Sheila is determined to bag Dalt,” Kat said between sips of her Coke.

  “That is ridiculous considering the man is gay. Does she think her ginormous, obviously fake boobs will make him switch teams?”

  Kat stared at her as if a huge, pus-filled zit protruded out of her forehead.

  Darcy’s lips went numb. “You look surprised. Is he not out?”

  “Try flabbergasted. Who told you Dalt is gay?”

  “He told me. He was pretty upfront about it.”

  Kat looked toward the buildings of town. “This is not going to go over well.”

  A nugget of panic settled in Darcy’s stomach. “Things are different now. People are more accepting.”

  “If it’s their hairdresser or interior decorator, sure, but not the football coach. Falcon is a good twenty years behind the social curve.”

  “Cyrus never got bullied. People love him,” Darcy said.

  “My brother never pretended to be anything but what he was. Soon as he saved enough money, he left.” Kat took another long pull on her Coke until she hit ice. “Let me get this right. Coach Dalton said, ‘I’m gay.’”

  Darcy rubbed her forehead. “Well, not in so many words—”

  The squeak of the bathroom door froze them. Kat put a finger to her lips and popped her head around the side. “Shitfire. Margie’s hot-footing it back to the bleachers.”

  “Do you think she heard us?” Darcy crouched and stuck her head below Kat’s to watch the women.

  “Is everyone pulling out phones?”

  “Doesn’t look like it.”

  Kat turned to face Darcy. “What does ‘not in so many words’ mean?”

  “Logan insinuated he was gay, and then Robbie said Avery was waiting for him and that Avery wasn’t a girl. He talked about Avery like he was really special. It was humbling.”

  Kat’s face waged a battle between laughter and horror. “Avery? You think Avery is Dalt’s gay lover?”

  With her stomach crushed somewhere beneath her feet, Darcy wiped at sweat that wasn’t caused by the heat. Her underarms grew damp. “Who the hell is Avery?”

  The hand over her mouth distorted Kat’s words, and Darcy wasn’t sure if she was trying to stem laughter or a horrified gasp. “He’s on the field.”

  “He’s here?”

  “He’s never too far away.” Kat jerked her head toward the cacophony of yells and grunts and crashing helmets.

  Darcy left the shelter of the restrooms to scan the field. An occasional glance was fired over a shoulder from the bleachers, but no one acted like they had the choicest piece of gossip to hit the town in years between their teeth. “Is it the running back coach?”

  “Nope. That’s Laurence Malone. Think shorter and hairier and with three-legs.”

  “Three-legs …” Her gaze settled on the dog. “No,” she repeated over and over. “The dog? The freaking dog? That’s Avery?”

  Darcy dropped into a squat and wrapped her arms around knees, rocking back and forth. Along with the blanket of guilt, embarrassment, and shame came a stab of relief. She pushed herself back up as if she were the one with two broken hips. “Should I go make an announcement? Apologize publically?”

  Kat paced and fiddled with the ends of her scarf. “This is tough. What if Margie didn’t hear anything? If you go over and announce Dalt isn’t gay, it’s going to raise all sorts of unnecessary questions. Any rumors about him will spread like kudzu.”

  “Maybe I should wait it out. If Margie heard, then we’ll hear and I can …” She gnawed the inside of her mouth. What kind of damage control could she implement at that point?

  “Have sex with Dalt? Preferably with witnesses? Halftime at the first home game on the fifty-yard line would do it.”

  “Very funny. Not helping, Kat.” There was no reason for Kat to know how alluring Darcy found the possibility. But now she knew Robbie wasn’t gay, other questions arose. Why hadn’t he made a move in his truck … or her bedroom, for that matter? Was he that much of a gentleman? Which only made him even more attractive, dammit to hell. Or was he not interested?

  Clanging metal and an increased buzz of voices filled the air. The bleachers were clearing of women, and the boys were running back into the football pavilion. Too late now to do anything. She rubbed at the lump in her throat. Rumors could be dangerous, hurtful things. Once spread, they lived and breathed and destroyed.

  Kat checked her watch. “I’ve got a land transfer to file. I’ll be over sometime this weekend to see Ada. Mama and Daddy are expecting you for a visit. You’d better make it this week or you know Mama will get her feelings hurt.”

  They walked in silence to the door of Kat’s law office. Her sweet-smelling hug imparted a small amount of comfort. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

  Darcy trudged back to her car. Her headache was back, acerbated by the smashing heat. The pantry still needed stocking. Her guilt went into overdrive. What said “I’m sorry for thinking you’re something you’re not”? A German chocolate cake? Peach cobbler? Banana pudding?

  Chapter 5

  “Dude …” Logan drew out the innocuous greeting, imbuing it with a wealth of questions. He took a seat across from Robbie’s desk in the football pavilion and settled his hands on spread knees.

  Christ, had Logan divined the confused, lustful thoughts Robbie had entertained about his cousin? He’d seen Darcy in the bleachers. Normally, he tuned out the buzz of female chatter and laughter during his practices. He lasered his attention on conditioning the team for their first game, but his gaze had darted to her more times than he cared to admit. Her swinging ponytail, T-shirt, and shorts were in sharp contrast to the rest of the bleacher babes.

  His stoicism had turned him an unwilling challenge for every unattached female in Falcon—and even some of the married ones. Football practice had become a minefield of lipstick, short skirts, and cleavage.

  Logan was his best friend—outside of Avery. Did he believe Robbie had taken advantage of Darcy? Robbie’s anxiety grew to fill the silence. He broke. “Nothing happened with Darcy last night. I didn’t touch her.”

  Not for lack of wanting to, he failed to add.

  “Obviously.” Logan chuffed and gestured from Robbie’s head to his toes.

  “She was buzzed, and I—wait, why ‘obviously’?” Robbie held his hands up and stopped his excuses. “I’m not a troll living under a bridge.”

  “You could have told me, you know. I’m op
en-minded and accepting.” Logan wagged his finger toward Robbie. “But you’ve been with women, unless you were faking it. Are you bi?”

  His blood picked up speed. Adrenaline, shock, incredulity hammered at his heart and disembodied his mind. All he could do was stare at Logan and blink.

  “I’m not bi,” Robbie finally said.

  “Gay?”

  “I’m not gay or bi. Where the hell did you get the idea I was? Did Sheila say something?”

  Logan crossed his arms and slouched back in the chair. “Sheila said Darcy outed you at practice.”

  “Why would Darcy think I’m gay? Last night …” Robbie shuffled a hand through his hair to rub at his nape. A headache due to the heat and the late night throbbed at the base of his skull.

  “You said nothing happened.” Logan’s voice turned hard, protective, as did his stance, elbows braced on knees.

  “Nothing did happen … but I thought … I mean, she seemed … never mind.” She had been attracted to him, hadn’t she? Had he completely misread her signals? “Has she got something against me?”

  Logan scratched at the stubble on his jaw. “I don’t know. She’s worried you’re being nice to Ada to get all her land.”

  The destructive rumors bordered on hateful. Maybe his first impression of her at the river was right. Maybe she was flighty and selfish. But last night she’d been funny and sweet. “Is she trying to get me run out of town?”

  “If Darcy said you were gay, she believed it.”

  Robbie grabbed his baseball cap and stood so forcefully the chair rocketed back into a whiteboard, scattering markers. “Where is she?”

  “Back home with Ada by now, I’d guess.”

  Without another word, he whistled for Avery and walked out. Pulling his brim low, he ignored the sideways glances and whispers. He’d served side by side with gay men. “Don’t ask, don’t tell” was a farce to appease the political machine. You couldn’t live with a man, face the danger they faced, and not know. Never bothered him.

  But his foothold in the town and with the football team was tenuous. Not everyone on the school board had wanted to hire an outsider. He still had to prove himself, and he wasn’t naïve. Rumors circulating about his sexual preference weren’t going to garner him fans in the generally conservative town.