by Amelia Judd
“Are you ready to order?”
Huh? Claire wrinkled her nose and shook her head. Her mom always asked her about men. Always. She looked to her sisters for help, sending a confused look their way.
Kat shrugged. “I like the salads here.”
“The quiches are good too,” Hannah added, flipping her menu open.
Ugh. She wanted to talk about men, not food. It figured the one time Claire wanted her mom probing into her love life, it didn’t happen.
She ran a quick mental diagnostic test, trying to comprehend the situation. Her anxiousness to discuss Ethan must have clouded her judgment. Her mom would likely ask about her dating life once the food arrived. She simply needed to be patient.
For the next hour and a half, they discussed family, friends, work, Pax and Sage’s December wedding, and a few other topics Claire would typically find interesting. Today, the conversation chipped away at her patience like a craftsman’s chisel on wood. After they settled up the check, her mom picked up her purse and pushed back her chair to leave.
Tapping a beat on the table in frustration, Claire reworked her plan. Sure, it would have been more believable to tell them about Ethan after her mom questioned her, but she had to readjust plans all the time in her job at Bennett Industries. This shouldn’t be any different.
She took a calming breath and squared her shoulders. “I almost forgot to mention …” She paused, waiting until all three sets of eyes were focused on her. “I’ve started seeing someone.”
Her voice shook a little on the lie, but she didn’t think they noticed. In fact, her mom and sisters were so busy gawking at Claire, she doubted they’d notice if a flock of aggressive gulls had suddenly started scavenging the table for scraps.
“Seriously?” Kat asked.
“It’s more fun than serious.” Claire faked a coy smile. “But I have to admit, I like him more than any other man I’ve met recently, even though he’s in his twenties and still lives at his mom’s house.” Which was all completely true.
Hannah went brows up. “He lives with his mom?”
“He doesn’t have a job,” Claire explained helpfully.
Ann cocked her head. “He’s unemployed and lives at home, and you’re attracted to him?”
“Once you see him, you’ll understand.” She winked and rose from the table. “Thanks for joining me for lunch, ladies. I had a great time.”
Her mom and Hannah gaped in wordless wonder, while Kat studied her with an amused smirk.
Before anyone could ask any questions she wasn’t ready to answer, Claire strode from the table, pleased with the progression of her plan. She’d laid the groundwork for her relationship with Ethan to accomplish multiple goals over the next two months. Not only would she get out of the auction and prove she didn’t need charity to get a date, she’d finally shake off the role of injured little bird in need of help. Nope. After this, she’d be known as a sharp-eyed hawk hunting for young pups to scoop up in her talons.
Okay, that was probably an exaggeration. She grinned to herself, passing through the hotel’s double-door entry. But it still felt damn good to take some control back of her personal life.
She slipped on her sunglasses and stepped into the bright August sunshine. Talk about a great return on investment, or a lot of bang for your buck as Kat would say. Her investment in Ethan looked to be the best two grand she’d ever spent.
•••
A few hours later, the click-clacking sound of Claire’s peep-toe pumps echoed through the library’s two-story foyer as she hurried up the curved stairs. Ty’s soccer coach, Josh Klein, had booked one of the conference rooms at the library for the parent-only meeting, and she was late. Again.
As a single mom with a demanding career, Claire knew a thing or two hundred about the intricacies of balancing a jam-packed schedule. Like a house of cards, it only took one miscalculation to bring the whole thing crashing down.
Lunch with her family had meant she’d needed to push back her early afternoon appointment with Bernie Bell, her long-winded head of human resources. Bernie had showed up at her office at four o’clock, promising to only take a few minutes of her time, then proceeded to vent about his staff’s incompetence for over an hour. The moment Claire had finally shooed him from her office, she’d raced to her car and sped through a few orange-ish stoplights, keeping an eye on the darkening sky overhead.
While she’d managed to make it inside the library before the impending summer storm hit, she’d arrived five minutes after the soccer meeting’s start time.
She checked her watch again and hurried down the long corridor. She glanced in each conference-room doorway as she rushed by, hoping to find the team before Coach Klein started talking.
At the third room, her heels stuttered to a stop on the slick tile. Inside, a tall, muscular guy stood near the whiteboard, lighting up the room with a thousand-watt smile. Recognition and stupefaction hit her with the old one-two.
“Ethan?” she squeaked.
Thumbs tucked casually in the pockets of his jeans, he turned to her. “Evening, Claire,” he said, looking way happier to see her than she was to see him. “Come on in and take a seat. We were waiting for you to get started.”
Mouth agape, her fingertips tingling, she heard a rush of white noise in her ears. Her pulse kicked into frantic overdrive. No, no, no, no, no. Her fake boyfriend couldn’t be here for her son’s soccer meeting. No way would the universe be that cruel.
Ethan encouraged her into the room with a cute little wave. “Don’t be scared. I don’t bite.” He winked.
His teasing comment set off a chorus of laughter. Though Claire couldn’t see far into the room from where she stood in the hallway, it sounded like every single one of the team’s parents had beat her to the meeting. Terrific.
Without thinking, she let her wayward feet carry her inside. Once she cleared the doorway, approximately twenty-five sets of eyes blasted her with amused interest.
“Sorry I’m late,” she mumbled, fighting the blush creeping up her neck as she slid into a back-row seat.
“No problem,” Coach Klein said, stepping forward, his round face flushed and beaming with pleasure. “I’m just glad everyone was able to make it tonight for the big announcement.”
What announcement?
Slouched in her chair and fighting back rising anxiety, Claire peeked through her fingers at the surreal scene at the front of the room.
Coach Klein continued, “Unless you’ve been living under a rock, I’m sure you all recognize the amazing man next to me, the greatest athlete to ever come out of Silver Bay, our very own Ethan DuBois.”
The room exploded in thunderous applause and whoops of excitement.
Claire reeled back as recognition slammed into her. She’d heard Ty talk about the soccer star before. And way before that, when she’d still been in college on the East Coast, she remembered her mom talking about a high school soccer player from Silver Bay who’d made the national team.
“While Ethan takes a … ” Coach Klein paused and cleared his throat. “ … a break from soccer, he’s generously volunteered to coach a local youth team for the season. I’m thrilled to announce the club has made him head coach of our boys’ team!” He pumped his fist in victory as another deafening wave of applause swept through the room.
Claire’s stomach dropped, and her face caught fire. Oh. Holy. Smokes. She’d propositioned the town’s favorite son and her kid’s new soccer coach.
Her gaze flew to Ethan’s in pained accusation as the commotion carried on around them. The jerk had purposely let her believe he was some slacker with no direction in life.
To his credit, Ethan looked back with a hesitant half-smile and an apologetic tilt to his eyebrows rather than full-out mocking amusement. He mouthed the word “surprise” in that anticlimactic way people do when they know damn well the person they’re surprising is so not going to like the flipping surprise.
Thankfully, Coach Klein pulled Ethan�
��s attention away from her a moment later.
Sinking lower and leaning to the left, Claire managed to hide behind the tall father of the team’s goalie for the remaining thirty minutes of the meeting. Too proud—or maybe too stupid—to run for cover, she even mingled with a few parents afterward, all-the-while avoiding Ethan. She needed time to smooth the jagged-edged embarrassment slicing through her before dealing with the jerk.
She silently cursed her sister’s stupid bachelorette auction. Maybe she should have swallowed her pride and stood on that blasted stage like an idiot. Instead, she’d tried to find a business solution to a personal problem. Big flipping mistake.
He must have found her offer to ‘buy’ his services hilarious. Glaring at Ethan’s back and ridiculously wide shoulders from across the room, she ground her teeth and drew in a long, slow breath. Rather than clarify the misunderstanding, he’d let her believe he was a goalless pretty boy who needed cash.
Her embarrassment began to morph into anger. The more she thought about it, the more she fumed. He’d played her to perfection.
Ugh. She’d even offered him a cash advance in case he didn’t have enough money to pay for a date with her. A big-time pro soccer player probably made more money in one endorsement deal than she did all year at Bennett Industries.
Wanting to cringe or growl or punch something, she had another thought occur to her. Ethan had been interested in her father and her kids’ ages the night she’d offered to buy his services. Had he put two and two together? Had he figured out he’d be coaching her son’s team and not flipping told her?
“Bastard,” she growled under her breath, her pulse pounding in her ears. The startled looks around her jolted her into action. “Custard,” she improvised. “Just remembered I need to buy custard on the way home. Gotta go,” she mumbled to no one in particular and slipped from the room.
She bolted down the stairs, not even slowing when she saw the torrential rainfall pounding down outside. Welcoming the onslaught, she burst through the front door and raced into the downpour to the safety and seclusion of her SUV.
Soaked and dripping all over her car’s leather interior, she slammed her door closed and indulged in a few self-indulgent forehead thunks against her steering wheel.
A moment later, three firm knocks against her side window startled her upright. She swiveled her head so quickly to the left her wet hair whipped across the headrest. Ethan stood outside her car, looking unfazed at the assault of horizontal rain.
He blasted her with his spellbinding smile. “We need to talk,” he mouthed through the closed window.
“Go away.” Claire angrily gestured in the other direction.
“Can’t hear you in this storm,” he yelled. “I’ll join you in there.”
Aghast, she watched him jog around the front of her car. Before she had the sense to hit the locks, he slid into the passenger seat.
“Sorry to soak your car,” he said, slicking his hair back from his face. “I forgot how quickly storms blow in around here.”
“I’d worry less about my car’s interior and more about me strangling you.” Claire squinted through the water cascading down her windshield. “Do you think the fog on the windows will provide enough cover? Or could somebody still see me murdering you?”
“Upset I didn’t tell you the other night?”
She narrowed her eyes, shooting him a don’t-be-an-idiot look.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Would it have changed anything?”
“Absolutely. Deal’s off.”
He went brows up. “You’re firing me? Again?”
“You lied to me.”
His expression soured. “I never lied.”
“You let me think you were an unemployed pretty boy who lived with his mother.”
“I told you I was retired. Which I am,” he said. “Even if no one wants to believe me,” he added under his breath. “And I didn’t say I lived with my mother. I said I lived in her guest room, which is true. Mom hasn’t moved into the house yet. So it made sense for me to stay there.”
“If it’s her house, why hasn’t she moved in?” Claire snapped.
An almost imperceptible tension tightened his face. “Long story.” But he didn’t elaborate.
She studied him, staring into the depths of those gorgeous blue eyes, trying to work out what he wasn’t telling her. He locked gazes with her. For once, his eyes burned with heated intensity rather than good-natured humor.
The air pressure shifted. A growing awareness of him hummed through her, and the car seemed to shrink. The fogged windows and the blinding rain of the summer storm brought an unexpected intimacy to the enclosed space.
“Ethan.” It was meant as a warning, but her throaty whisper sounded more like a plea. She licked her lips and gave her head a small shake, trying to clear the sensual haze from her mind.
His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Claire.”
Her name on his lips was neither a plea nor a warning. His voice held only confident intent. He slowly stroked his thumb down her jawline and across her sensitive lower lip, his eyes darkening with desire.
Her heart pounded in her chest as every nerve ending in her body came alive. Oh God. He wanted to kiss her.
He played you for a fool. He played you for a fool. He played you for a fool.
By the third repeat, the depressing anti-pep talk roared through her head and broke the spell. Claire clenched her teeth and leaned away from his touch—both frustrated by and thankful for her maturity.
“Nice try at seduction, but you still lied.” She kept her voice as neutral as possible under the circumstances. “And you’re still fired.”
Chapter 4
ETHAN effortlessly juggled the soccer ball from thigh to foot and back to thigh again. While August afternoons in Wisconsin could be hot and humid, today a cool breeze blew off of the lake, tempering the late summer sun. Based off the laughter coming from the group of ten-year-old boys he’d been coaching for two weeks, his team liked the reprieve from heat as much as he did.
“Remember, guys, you have to complete twenty-five juggles during warm-ups before shooting on the goal.”
That earned him a few groans from his team. Smiling at the predictable reaction, he dropped the ball to the ground and did a quick head count. Claire’s son, Ty, hadn’t arrived yet, which meant she hadn’t arrived either.
Before he could even finish the thought, her silver, high-end SUV turned into the complex and rolled to a stop by the practice field. Ty bolted from the passenger seat and ran to join his team. Smart and dedicated, he exemplified everything Ethan could want in a player.
“Hi, Coach,” Ty said with a big grin as he dropped his bag and immediately started warming up.
“Hey, Ty. Have you been working on the extra drills I showed you last practice?”
“Yeah, they’re lit! Mom said I look like a pro doing the Maradona.”
“Great,” Ethan said, smiling at Ty’s youthful enthusiasm.
Naturally talented, Claire’s son also focused more and worked harder than any other player at practice. If Ty maintained that work ethic and signed up for some additional training over the next few years, he could develop into an exceptional regional player.
Of course, having full parental support behind that goal would help Ty tremendously. Ethan looked toward the parking lot, wondering if Claire understood soccer could be more than just a recreational sport for her son. And if she knew, did she care? Not all parents approved of making soccer a priority.
Maybe he could talk to her about Ty?
He watched Claire lower her bike from a rack hanging on the back of her SUV. At the end of practice, he knew he’d watch her load it back on the rack, like he did at every practice. She still hadn’t spoken to him since firing him—for the second damn time.
If she hadn’t called off their arrangement, tonight would have been their first date at Bayside. Ethan had to admit that he was a little thrown by her rejection. He looked down at the
soccer ball in front of him and stepped into it with his right foot. The ball rocketed past the team and into the back corner of the net. His players whooped in appreciation. If only he could impress Claire so easily.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to work at impressing a woman. Hell, women generally chased him. He’d been asked out via social media more times than he could remember. Even his last few girlfriends had approached him first, either directly or indirectly, through mutual friends. Not so surprisingly, they’d all turned out to be clingy, needy, and way more interested in his celebrity status as a professional athlete than in him as an actual person.
The fact that Claire seemed both underwhelmed and immune, provided an interesting change and an irresistible challenge. And when had he not been up for a challenge?
He turned toward the parking lot again. Instead of Claire biking her cute butt out of the park, she stood motionless, staring directly at him with a gaze hot enough to start a fire. Maybe she wasn’t as immune as she pretended to be.
Ethan felt a slow, predatory smile spread across his face. He raised his head in a cocky nod of both greeting and acknowledgement of her inspection. When she shook her head in a nearly imperceptible warning, adrenaline pumped through him. His smile widened in silent acceptance of her challenge.
Winning over the reserved, beautiful Claire Bennett might not be an easy goal to achieve, but he’d made a career out of making goals others deemed impossible.
First things first. They’d need to spend time together if he wanted her to warm up to him. And what better way to spend time together than going on a few dates—pretend or otherwise?
Time to get unfired.
•••
Crap. Double crap. Ethan had caught her staring at him. Cheeks burning, Claire shoved her phone and car keys into the small cargo bag attached to her bike. Why did she always embarrass herself around that man?
“We probably used up a lifetime’s worth of luck the day Ethan DuBois got placed as the team’s coach,” a raspy voice observed behind her. Grinning, Deb Saunders, her friend and biking companion, pulled her bike to a stop beside Claire. “I feel like we won the lottery.”