by Amber Heart
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 memo
rable!”
“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 professor. “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.”
He sighed and pushed one hand through his hair. “I don’t want a zero on this. Want to meet at the coffee shop later today?”
“I can’t, I’m working.”
“Where do you work?”
“The coffee shop in the library.”
Dean was surprised. “I’ve never seen you there.”
She shrugged. “I’m usually in the back.”
“All right, what about tomorrow?”
“I’m working then too,” Leigh answered, pulling her phone from her pocket to look at her calendar. She wanted to make this easy for him, but she really did have a pretty full schedule.
“The coffee place closes at 9, we could meet after that.”
“No, I’m working at the pizza place tomorrow night so I’ll be there till eleven.” She scrolled through looking for free time.
Dean stared at her. “You have two jobs?” he asked incredulously.
“Yeah. Sometimes I pick up shifts in a call center too.”
Leigh gathered her long hair in one hand and wrapped the rubber band she kept around her wrist around it, making a low ponytail. He liked her hair. It was a chestnut brown and it was nearly waist length. An image crossed his mind. Her hair curtaining them as she moved on top of him, leaning down for a kiss. He shook it away. What the hell was that about?
“I thought you were a full time student,” he said, mostly just for something to say.
She shrugged and pushed her phone down into her jacket pocket. “I am. Okay, listen. If you can come to my house on Wednesday night at 9:30, we can get some work done.”
“I guess that works,” he agreed, still turning over the idea of working two and a half jobs while doing a full load of classes. It was just barely possible that she was busier than him.
“All right. Text me before you come over and I’ll send you directions. I’ll try to get some research together so we can get started. I’ve got a few ideas.”
He looked at her warily. “What do you want me to do?”
She looked up, surprising him with a grin. “Show up, Dean. I want you to show up.”
****
Leigh opened the door before Dean even raised his hand to knock.
“You’re way too excited about this project,” he informed her.
“I have a picky roommate who doesn’t like noise after 9:00.” She inclined her head toward the hall and rolled her eyes good naturedly.
“She’d never make it in my dorm,” Dean said, following her through the hall. “Most of the guys don’t shut up till sunup.”
“That would explain why you don’t do so well in class.”
“Hey, I go to bed at the reasonable hour of 3 a.m.”
“Very responsible.” Leigh led him into the kitchen. “Want something to drink? I’ve got soda and...” She opened the fridge. “Um, water.”
“Why are you being so nice?”
Leigh laughed at the suspicion in his tone. “Because I’m actually a pretty nice person. We got off to a bad start, but I think we can turn it around.”
She was certainly going to do her best. She admittedly didn’t know much about college sports, but she’d done a little research in the slow moments at the coffee shop. Her dad had made some good points about the pressure Dean was under.
He accepted the glass she handed him. “Okay. Yeah, we�
�ll give it a shot.”
“Good. I think that the first thing we need to do is make a schedule.”
“What for?”
“For lots of things!” she said enthusiastically. “For working together, for working separately, for deadlines within the project itself, for final edits and proofreading...”
He couldn’t help but smile at the way her dark blue eyes lit up. “I’m guessing you have a schedule of your own?”