by Amelia Judd
“A more powerful force than luck intervened,” Claire explained. “Apparently, once my dad heard about Ethan, he made a few well-placed phone calls to ensure his grandson’s team had the honor of being led by Silver Bay’s finest athlete.”
“Your dad rocks.”
Claire snorted. “He has his moments.”
Deb stuffed her curly blond hair inside her bike helmet, adjusted her bike shorts over her eye-catching curves, and gave Ethan a little wave. Happily married and outgoing, Deb interacted with him with ease.
Claire fastened her helmet and jammed her water bottle in the holder. “Ready to go? I don’t want Ty to think I’m spying on practice.”
“Bull. You don’t want Ethan to know you’re watching him. I still can’t believe you thought he was my cousin.” Deb chuckled.
Claire scrunched her eyes closed and squeezed the bridge of her nose. “Can we not relive that moment?”
“You really should have taken him up on his offer to help.”
Claire dropped her hand with a sigh and focused on Deb. “I couldn’t once I found out who he really was.”
“Why not?”
“He lied to me,” Claire said. “Besides, he doesn’t need the money, so why’d he agree to help?” She shook her head. “I don’t do business with people unless I understand their motives.”
“Sex is a pretty strong motivator.” Deb waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe he was hoping to get some.”
“Please.” Claire rolled her eyes. “He probably has female sportscasters and Hollywood It girls on speed dial. Why would he bother pursuing a small-town mom with a reputation duller than a pair of safety scissors?”
“You’re not dull. You’re classy. There’s a big difference,” Deb insisted, sounding offended on Claire’s behalf.
“Thanks, Deb.” Claire was appreciative of her friend’s glass-half-full opinion. “Now can we go? At this rate, practice is going to be over before we even start our ride.”
“Good point. If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss Ethan leading the cooldown stretches. That’s one of my favorite parts.” With a determined look, Deb hopped on her bike and pushed off toward the bike path.
Claire caught up and settled into pace by her side, glad of the comfortable silence on these rides. The last thing she wanted to do was talk more about her inconvenient attraction to Ethan.
Eager to clear her mind of her son’s coach, she shifted gears and pedaled past Deb. As she pushed the bike, the sound of it whizzing along mingled with the laughter of children in the park’s playground. The intricate designs of the gardens and the passing trees blurred into a kaleidoscope of color in her peripheral vision. Her breathing deepened; her focus narrowed to the path ahead.
She maintained the grueling pace until she reached a shaded bench beside the trail that overlooked a bend in the creek. Sweating, panting, legs shaking, she pulled to the side and reached for her water, waiting for Deb to catch up.
“Holy hell, lady.” Her friend panted to a stop next to her a minute later. “I haven’t ridden that fast since I tried to ditch the twins during our family bike ride three weeks ago.” She paused to take two large gulps from her water bottle, then leveled Claire with an inquisitive look. “What’s up?”
Claire turned to look at the creek. “Nothing. It just felt good to let off some steam.”
“Sex is a hell of a lot better way to let off steam,” Deb mumbled. “You’ve gotta start getting some, or I’m quitting these rides. They hired a new cop in town. I’ve seen him getting coffee at Fresh most mornings. He’s tall, blond, and all kinds of hot. Plus, you can’t go wrong with a guy who really knows how to work a pair of handcuffs.”
“Don’t start,” Claire warned. “I’ve told you, I’ll date when I want to and not because some hunk with an expertise in restraints moves to town.”
“Fine. If you don’t want to talk about your real love life, then let’s discuss your fake one.” Deb glanced at her watch. “We have a few minutes before heading back to practice. Fill me in on whatever new plan you’re concocting to get out of the auction. Are you going to pay someone else to squire you around town? Maybe send away for a mail-order husband? Or maybe you could try something really crazy,” Deb said dryly, “and simply take part in the auction, go on one silly date, and put the thing behind you.”
“You were in my fourth-grade class. Remember what happened last time I was super nervous on stage?” Claire faked a heave.
“I don’t buy it.” Deb looked skeptical. “You’re an exec at Bennett. You speak in front of people all the time.”
“That’s totally different,” Claire countered. “That’s business. I don’t get nervous conducting business. But standing on stage in front of the entire town, including my ex-husband, looking desperate and pathetic.” She turned her head from side to side, slow and emphatic. “No way.”
“Fine.” Deb held up her hands in surrender. “What’s your new plan?”
Claire blew out a breath. “I haven’t come up with one yet.” She looked hopefully at Deb. “Any chance your cousin is back on the market and looking to make some extra cash?”
“Nope. He’s bringing Roberta over next Sunday for a cookout. He thinks she may be the one.”
“The one?” Claire jerked back. “Didn’t he just meet her?”
“Yeah. Seems quick to me too.” Deb shrugged. “Oh well. Who am I to question love at first sight?”
Claire gave a mental eye roll and rubbed the heart-shaped pendant around her neck. She used to believe in love at first sight and happily-ever-afters. She’d even been known as the family romantic once upon a time. But for her, true love didn’t exist in the passionate embrace of a lover. True love lived in the pure, unconditional love she felt for her children.
And that was enough for her.
“Time to head back to practice,” she said, climbing onto her bike.
“Good point. They’re probably doing the cooldown stretches.”
“No catcalls this time,” Claire warned, setting off at a slower pace for the return ride. “I honestly thought Ethan might ban you from practice last week.”
“Not my fault. He stripped off his sweatshirt.”
“You yelled for him to ‘take it all off,’ twice.”
“What was I supposed to do?”
“Say nothing?” Claire suggested.
Deb’s eyebrows dipped in confusion. “That’s no fun.”
“True.” Claire grinned. “But it’s mature and responsible.”
“Being mature and responsible sounds kinda boring.”
Unable to argue the point, Claire let the conversation drift to silence as they finished their ride back to the soccer field.
“This is better than I could have ever imagined,” Deb yelled over her shoulder to Claire and hopped off her bike to watch the last few minutes of practice.
Claire brought her bike to a stop and looked to the field.
Holy smokes.
Ethan had joined the end-of-practice scrimmage on the skins’ side. Broad shoulders, washboard abs, and powerful legs filled her vision. He moved with a mesmerizing combination of power, grace, and testosterone. Her heartbeat pounded in avid appreciation. She tried to look away and failed.
Transfixed, she continued to watch the boys race up and down the field, their faces lit with youthful joy as they played the game they loved. Ethan appeared to be having a great time too, hustling, jostling, and laughing as much as the rest of the players.
“If Mike took Pilates, do you think his abs would look like that?”
Claire turned her gaze from the male paragon on the field to take in her friend’s wistful expression.
Oh boy.
Deb’s husband, Mike, managed the local grocery store, spent most of his day under florescent lighting, and was rumored to polish off the day-old bakery items during his break time. He had a big heart, friendly smile, and a body more reminiscent of a professional bowler than a soccer star. Should she be honest or should she be nice
?
Who was she kidding? A crusher of dreams, she was not—best to avoid answering the question directly. “Mike is great. He loves you and the boys more than anything. That’s better than perfect abs.”
Deb blew out a sigh. “Yeah. The only six-pack in Mike’s future is the one he brings home from the store every Friday night.”
Thankfully, Ethan called an end to practice, saving Claire from a further discussion of Mike’s doughy body.
While most of the boys began gathering their bags and gear to head home, she hauled Ty’s sleepover stuff to Deb’s minivan. Ty, as usual, lingered on the field to ask Ethan some soccer-based question.
She watched as he paid rapt attention to his coach’s response. A wave of gratitude slammed into her. She wondered if Ethan knew her son had already elevated him to a near godly status.
Claire found herself walking toward them. Her body seemed as drawn to Ethan as her eyes. She’d cut the distance between them in half when Ethan ruffled Ty’s blond hair and shot him a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Ty beamed back, then hurried to his soccer bag to switch from cleats to street shoes.
At the same moment that Claire realized she was standing in the middle of the soccer field for no apparent reason, Ethan looked up and caught her staring at him. Again.
Ugh.
His smile amped up to its full thousand watts. “Hey.”
She quickly scooped up a plastic bottle discarded by one of the players, desperate for an excuse to be standing there. She waved it around with a little too much enthusiasm. “Just picking up some litter.”
Could she sound any more ridiculous? She usually prided herself on her quick thinking and easy banter. Like lightening striking a computer, Ethan’s hotness must have fried the area of her brain responsible for logical communication.
“Mom!” Ty charged up beside her before Ethan could comment on her sudden interest in soccer-field cleanliness. “Could you take my soccer bag home? I don’t want to take it to Rhys and Aidan’s house for the sleepover.”
“Sure, kiddo. I already put your sleeping bag and duffle in their car.” She swung his backpack onto her shoulder and pulled him in for a big hug. “Be good for Ms. Deb. Go to bed at a decent hour, and remember to brush your teeth.”
“I will. I love you, Mom! Bye!”
“Bye, kiddo. I love you too,” she said to herself. Ty had already sprinted off to join his friends.
Claire turned and hustled back to her car, hoping to avoid any more embarrassing interactions with Ethan. When would she get over this annoying physical attraction? Maybe Deb was right. Maybe she did need to get some. With a half snort, half grunt, and a full eye roll at her pathetic lack of a sex life, she tossed Ty’s bag onto the backseat and moved to the back of her SUV to load her bike.
The air suddenly thickened. Only one guy could make her body go on high alert simply by being near.
“Let me help you.” Ethan’s voice sent a shiver of awareness down her spine. Before she realized his intentions, he moved forward to pick up her bike, and his hand inadvertently brushed her arm.
Claire jumped back with a small squeak as electricity shot up her arm and quickly headed south.
With her bike suspended in midair, Ethan looked over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Yup. Dandy.”
Dandy? Nobody under the age of sixty said dandy.
She looked down, as if she found the piece of gum stuck on the pavement a few feet away incredibly interesting. Thankfully, the wind blowing her hair across her face hid the blush she could feel all the way to her hairline. She needed another minute to get control before her red cheeks would subside.
Sheesh. She’d blushed more around Ethan than she had in years.
“I think something flew into my eye,” she lied, wiping her eye in a pretend effort to remove the pretend object.
“Let me take a look.” Ethan put his hand under her chin, leaned in close, and thoroughly examined the eye she’d been fiddling with. “Hmmm,” he hummed low in his throat. “I don’t see anything.”
His breath on her face sent another ripple of awareness through her. He must have sensed her response because he looked hard into her eyes—but no longer in an effort to find a stray eyelash. His lips curved in a sexy smile that engaged his dimples.
He dropped his hand from her chin and straightened, not stepping back. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
“No,” she said, a bit too quickly in retrospect.
He cocked his head and studied her with a teasing light in his eyes. “Is it too short notice to find a sitter?”
“It’s not that. Ty’s sleeping at Rhys and Aidan’s house tonight, and my sister Hannah asked Grace over to binge watch MasterChef.”
“Then why not have dinner with me?”
“Because you’re my son’s soccer coach. That’s the extent of our relationship.” The words sounded so logical. So reasonable. Why couldn’t her body get the message?
“This is about soccer.” His hypnotic smile returned. “I’d like to talk to you about an opportunity for Ty.”
“So this would be a meeting between coach and parent?” Claire narrowed her eyes at him.
“Something like that. Seven at Bayside?”
She stared at him for a long, heavy beat—well aware he’d just suggested they go to dinner on the exact same day and at the exact same time and location of the date she’d planned for them before firing him. “I’ll only go if you agree it’s a soccer meeting, not a date.”
“Let’s compromise and call it a soccer date.” He winked. “See you tonight.”
Eyes wide, Claire watched Ethan stride toward his Jeep, hands in his pockets, whistling an off-key, carefree tune. Had she just agreed to go out with him? Damn. She knew he was a world-class striker, able to blow past defenders with ease. She hadn’t realized his abilities carried to off-the-field situations as well.
She wouldn’t kid herself into believing a pro-athlete was seriously interested in dating a small-town single mom. The guy must hit on every woman he met if he was putting this much effort into going out with her.
She needed to put a stop to whatever he was up to before it went any further. She’d amp up her defenses, meet Ethan for dinner, and make it crystal clear to the thick-headed Adonis that he needed to move on to the next girl in line because their relationship would never advance beyond the parent-to-coach level.
The simplicity of the plan pleased her. As long as she kept her cool and maintained focus on her goal, Claire felt confident nothing could go wrong.
Chapter 5
EXACTLY fifteen minutes before his date with Claire, Ethan pulled his Jeep into a parking spot directly in front of Bayside, the town’s best bar and grill. Like most of the popular businesses in town, Bayside sat on one of the four streets circling Sullivan Square—or the Square, as everyone referred to it.
Since Ethan had moved from Silver Bay, the town had poured money into making the Square an appealing destination for locals and a growing number of tourists. Two blocks long and one block wide, it represented small-town Wisconsin at its finest. Old-fashioned street lamps, wide sidewalks with brick accents, planters full of bright flowers, and small trees with twinkling lights lined the streets.
Bayside was located in a brown brick building on the northwest corner. With an interior with more brick, dark wood, and multiple wide windows, the restaurant had an upscale pub atmosphere and great food that had made it a Silver Bay institution.
Ethan slid into a booth in the bar area along the wall of windows. Outside, couples of all ages strolled by, hand-in-hand. Moms pushed strollers, dads carried toddlers, and teenagers lounged on the benches dotting the pedestrian-only blocks across the street.
Nostalgia tightened his chest. When he moved from Silver Bay to Los Angeles after high school, he’d assumed he’d spend the rest of his life in some urban location, enjoying the big-city attractions Silver Bay lacked. At the time, he hadn’t appreciated the charm and camarader
ie of small-town life.
Distance had brought clarity. Silver Bay didn’t have any professional sports teams, Michelin-star restaurants, or all-night dance clubs, but it did offer a place to live where you could feel connected to and vested in a welcoming community. Even after living elsewhere for so long, Silver Bay felt like home to Ethan. It probably always would.
Continuing to look out the window, he spotted Claire a block away, her efficient stride carrying her through the locals and tourists. She occasionally nodded in greeting as she worked her way through the Friday night crowd.
When she stepped through the door, a shot of adrenaline hit his system. Her blond hair was loose, the straight, thick strands brushing her shoulders. Her fitted white blouse, heeled sandals, and dark denim jeans lengthened and narrowed her slender build.
As their eyes met, he stood up and smiled. “Thanks for joining me for dinner. I’m a lucky guy to have such a beautiful date.”
She sighed and squared her shoulders, her expression a cross between determination and resignation. Flirting didn’t look to be on her agenda tonight. Which, of course, only made him want to do it more.
“Ethan,” she said with a nod, her tight voice making his name sound like an obstacle to overcome.
Good thing he loved a challenge. He fought a grin and gestured for her to take a seat.
She slid into the opposite side of the booth and scanned the room. Her body radiated tension as her fingers tapped out a nervous beat on the weathered, wooden table-top.
“You okay?” he asked.
Her focus snapped to him. “This is a very visible table. Anyone inside or outside the restaurant will see us together.”
“A couple of weeks ago, you wanted to show me off around town as your new boyfriend. Now you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.” He shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “I feel like I just got cut from the team.”
“You’ll survive,” she said, sounding half amused and half exasperated. “I’m trying to avoid people getting the wrong idea. I plan to make sure everyone knows we’re only here to discuss soccer.”