by Amelia Judd
His gaze darkened and he tipped his head to study her with a smoldering expression.
“Well,” she amended, setting her drink on the table next to her, “besides that.”
He chuckled, amusement effectively replacing his smolder. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t visit you at work?”
“The pretend kind.”
“I always aim to over-deliver no matter what position I’m playing. It works well for me.”
“So this visit is an example of you over-delivering?”
“Absolutely. I figured we should decide on a strategy for the pool party on Saturday. I think you should arrive early. We’ll look more coupley if you’re there to greet everyone with me.”
Claire arch a brow. “Coupley?”
“Yeah.” His lips turned up in an undeterred smile. “It’ll send a nonverbal message that we’re together. Trust me.”
“Okay.” She shrugged, amused and a little impressed by his dedication to the ruse. “We’ll get there early.”
“I should also warn you that my mom accepted my offer and will be there too.”
“Warn me? Interesting choice of words.”
His humor faded. “Mom has strong opinions and sees no reason to keep them to herself which at time makes her …” He paused, considering his next words. “Argumentative.”
“No worries. You’ve met Kat. I can handle argumentative.”
“Mom makes Kat look like a kitten. Don’t tell Kat I said that,” he hurried to add.
“Afraid of Logan?”
“Hell, no. I’m afraid of Kat.” Ethan took a sip of his iced tea and frowned. “I’ve never gotten used to leaf-flavored water. Mom loves the stuff. Says it’s better for you than all those sugar-infested sports drinks. You can imagine her reaction to seeing me in a Gatorade commercial,” he added dryly.
“Ty showed me that one last night. I liked it.” Claire managed to hold her voice impressively neutral considering the enormity of that understatement. Watching the commercialized version of the gorgeous man in front of her racing down a field, his muscled body skillfully evading everyone in his path as he maneuvered the ball with a combination of grace and power, had kicked both her pulse and her guilt into overdrive. Her son had been trying to show off his coach’s awesome footwork, and Ethan’s feet were the only part of his body she hadn’t been watching while the video played.
“I’m glad someone did. Mom definitely did not enjoy it.” He sat back in the chair and blew out an exaggerated breath. “She blasted me on the phone for an hour after it aired. Compared it to selling crack at a playground.”
Claire winced. “An extreme comparison.”
“She has a few hot buttons. That’s another reason why I stopped by. When you meet her Saturday, it’s best if you don’t bring up my father. That topic always sets her off.”
Now she was the one to choose her words carefully. “Care to share the details?”
He studied her for a moment, his bright-blue eyes flashing with a mixture of emotions. “Like I said the other night, mom loves kids. She didn’t feel the need to be in a relationship before having one.”
“Sperm donor?”
His brows arched in surprise. “Yeah. You don’t look surprised. People usually assume my dad left us. Which always ticks her off.”
“She sounds like a strong woman, and it would take a lot of strength to make that decision,” Claire said. “Also, there’s no mention of your father online.”
“You looked me up?” Ethan asked, sounding pleased she’d taken the time to research him.
“Don’t read too much into it. It simply seemed the most efficient way to learn more about you.”
“Find out anything interesting?”
“Lots. You started playing professional soccer at eighteen. On the national team, you started in two different World Cups. In Major League Soccer, you played five years in LA and then six years in Chicago and signed a major endorsement deal with Nike. During the eleven years you played in the MLS, you scored 133 goals and were making a run at becoming the highest goal scorer in MLS history before you unexpectedly retired at the end of last season.” She stopped recounting his impressive stats to draw in a breath. “Of course, most people believe your retirement isn’t permanent and that you’re using it as a negotiation strategy to force Chicago to up your salary. The consensus is you’ll be back on the field at the start of next season—if not sooner.”
“I’m retired.”
“Currently,” she said, matching the curtness in his voice. “I talked to my kids about you. I told them we met before you started coaching Ty’s team and that I like spending time with you. I let them know we are going on a few dates while you’re in Silver Bay. But I made it very clear it’s unlikely you’ll be in town for long.”
“Why do you assume I won’t be in town long?”
“You don’t have a long-term job or home of your own, and as far as I can see, you have no intention of getting either one of them here. And you’ve only committed to coaching the boys through the season’s end in November.” She rested her elbow on the arm of the love seat and crossed her legs, confident in her assessment. “My instincts tell me you’re in Silver Bay to take care of a few things—most likely concerning your mother and the house you bought her—while you work stuff out with your old team or a new team or whatever it is that you’re planning for your future.”
Ethan took another sip of tea and grimaced, obviously forgetting the contents of the glass. He glared at the offending liquid. “Maybe I haven’t got anything planned for my future,” he said, his voice tight.
She shrugged. “It’s possible. But I’d be surprised if a successful pro-athlete retired young and in good health solely to live off endorsement deals for the rest of his days.”
Ethan drew in a long breath, leaned forward, and propped his elbows on his knees. “You’re incredibly perceptive,” he said, absently swirling the glass of tea in his hand as if it really were a scotch. “It’s a little intimidating.”
Tension straightened her spine. Jack used to complain that people found her intimidating, saying they couldn’t relax around her. “Sorry.” She didn’t mean to stress people out. She honestly didn’t know what she did that was so intimidating. “I don’t know how to stop.”
“Why would you want to stop? It’s damn sexy,” he drawled with a wicked, dimpled grin.
The grin promised trouble … or pleasure … or both.
Her nipples tightened again. Sheesh. What was wrong with her? She usually had control in spades.
Claire cleared her throat and pulled her wayward thoughts back on track. “You find intimidation sexy?” she asked, aiming to put him on the defensive for once. “That’s borderline disturbing.”
Looking more amused than offended, Ethan sat back, propped an ankle on one knee, and stationed his laced fingers behind his head in a relaxed position of confidence. “I like to be challenged,” he said unapologetically. “I never enjoyed an easy win in soccer. My favorite games were the close, adrenaline-pumping matches against skilled opponents that I both feared and respected. It’s a major rush to know if you lose focus for even a second, you’re going down.”
Clarity blazed through her. “That’s it!” Claire sprang from the love seat. “That’s why you’re doing this. You’re a world-class competitor, and you can’t resist the challenge of wooing a woman who doesn’t want to be wooed.”
“That’s not entirely true,” he said in a soothing voice as he slowly rose from the chair.
“But it’s not entirely untrue either. Right?”
He blasted her with his dimpled, brighter-than-the-sun smile. “You send off a vibe that you’re happy with yourself and happy with your life without a guy in it. It’s a rare trait. Any guy … hell, every guy would be drawn to it.”
“At least I understand your motivation now,” she grumbled, pacing to the large wall of windows and blindly staring out.
“There are a lot of reasons why I’m attracted to y
ou, Claire. You’re beautiful, intelligent, funny, and capable. And yes, I also like the fact that you challenge me.”
She turned back to face him. “I’ve got a busy life, a full life. I’m not playing hard to get or whatever you think I’m doing. I don’t have the time or desire”—or maybe even the ability—“to manage a relationship.”
He nodded his head in agreement. “I understand.”
“Oh.” Surprised he’d given up so quickly, her voice dropped an octave halfway through the word. “Good. I’m, um, glad.”
She was glad he’d given up on her, right? Why wouldn’t she be? The sinking feeling of disappointment in her belly couldn’t be about Ethan.
“Yeah, I understand completely,” Ethan drawled as he walked toward her, stopping a foot away. “You had a bad experience and now you need convincing that playing on a team is better than playing solo. And as a former professional athlete of a team-based sport, I’m the perfect guy to convince you.” Ethan leaned down and brushed a kiss on her cheek. “See you Saturday, Boss.”
Chapter 8
SATURDAY afternoon, Claire pulled her SUV to a stop in front of a gorgeous two-story lakefront home that matched the address Ethan had given her. The cottage-style house had gray shake siding, white trim, a plethora of windows, and an oversized back deck she could see from the driveway.
With no neighboring homes in sight, Ethan’s place sat on a huge lot with lots of shade trees and a private beach. While large and obviously new, the house somehow managed to maintain its charm, something most high-end construction failed to do.
She cut the engine and turned to look at her kiddos in the backseat. “This must be it. Make sure you take your swim bags.”
“Lit!” Ty grabbed his bag and hopped from the car. Giddy with excitement, he bolted toward the backyard where Ethan had instructed the team to head upon arrival.
“I wish you would’ve worn the dress I picked out for you,” Grace grumbled, absently toying with a strand of her long blond hair. “You look so pretty in it.”
And here we go again, Claire thought, eyeing her petite nine-year-old with a mixture of exasperation, amusement, and love. “I like what I’m wearing.” She gestured to her simple white maxi dress with a red band around her waist. “Besides, it’s Labor Day weekend. I wanted to be patriotic.”
“You looked like a princess in my dress.”
“You watch too many Disney movies,” Claire teased, climbing from the car and opening the back door.
“Grandma said you loved princess stories when you were a kid,” Grace countered.
“I did,” she conceded. “And I know you’re trying to help, which is really cool of you. But I told you, sunshine, Ethan is only in Silver Bay for a few months. That’s not enough time for anything lasting to develop between two people. Please don’t get your hopes up.”
“Dad said he fell in love with Gemma the moment he saw her.”
He used to say the same thing about me, Claire thought, resisting an eye roll. In hindsight, she should have realized her relationship with Jack had been built on little more than physical attraction and short-lived romantic euphoria. If they had dated longer before rushing into marriage, they would’ve likely figured that out. Once the bright rays of reality had burned off the foggy haze of romance, they learned too late that they weren’t compatible.
“Your dad and Gemma are lucky to have found each other,” Claire replied, shooting for a diplomatic tone. “Now let’s focus on the pool party instead of my dating life.” She extended her hand to Grace. “It’s so pretty and sunny. We don’t have many more days of swimming left this summer, so we better enjoy it.”
“Fine,” Grace murmured, climbing out of the car after dramatically heaving the bag onto her shoulder as if it were full of books rather than a swim towel, goggles, and a change of pint-sized clothes.
Fighting a smile, Claire hugged Grace to her side and dropped a kiss on top of her head. As always, love squeezed her heart at the feel of her daughter’s silky strands and the fresh scent of strawberry shampoo. “Love you, kiddo,” she said to Grace before retrieving a large veggie tray from the backseat and bumping the door shut with her hip.
“Love you too,” Grace said, falling in step beside Claire as they followed Ty’s route to the backyard.
Claire had worried telling her kids about Ethan would upset them. Her stomach had been in knots the entire day leading up to her big announcement. A totally wasted day of worry considering after she told them, they’d bounced around the house cheering like she’d just scored the winning goal in a big game. Ty’s reaction hadn’t surprised her. Ethan walked on water in her son’s opinion. Grace’s better-than-going-to-Disneyworld excitement, however, had thrown her for a loop.
She still hadn’t figured out if Grace liked the idea of her dating Ethan or if she just liked the idea of her dating anyone. From her build, to her features, to her temperament, Grace resembled Claire as a kid in a ton of ways. Odds were good Grace might have also inherited Claire’s past delusional fantasies that blurred romance and love. She’d need to gently and repeatedly remind Grace that it was okay for two people to go on a few dates and then go their separate ways. Romance did not always equal love.
When they rounded the rear corner of the house, Claire’s step faltered. “Holy smokes.”
The backyard looked more like a five-star resort than a private residence. A massive stone and wood deck spanned the middle level of the house. Below that, a wall of glass windows and a sliding door led into a walkout basement. A flight of stairs from the deck landed on a brick paver patio featuring a lagoon-style pool with a rock grotto and waterfall at the far end. Farther on, the yard slopped gently downward before leading to a sandy beach, then eventually the lake about fifty yards away.
“Whoa,” Grace murmured beside her, sounding as stunned as Claire felt.
Claire had assumed the house would be nice. She hadn’t known it would leave nice coughing and sputtering in its dust.
“Hi, ladies,” Ethan called from the edge of the pool. “Ty challenged me to a cannonball competition. Winner gets bragging rights. Care to enter the contest?”
“That pool is massively cool,” Claire said to Grace. “What do you say, sunshine? Are you going to let them have all the fun?”
Grace looked up at Claire, her perfect, heart-shaped face beaming with excitement. “Heck no. I’m going to win.” She grinned. “Wait for me!” Grace yelled, racing toward the pool.
Love swelled Claire’s heart as she watched her little girl peel away her cover-up and kick off her flip-flops on her mad dash to the pool. She couldn’t believe how much her kids had aged in the last year. Before she knew it, they’d be in college and she’d be … Claire gave her head a quick shake, not wanting to finish the thought.
“Are you the beautiful mother of two I’m supposed to meet?”
Startled, Claire whipped around to find a tall, stern-looking woman standing directly behind her. Judging by the amount of gray in her chin-length bob and the lines around her bright blue eyes, Claire placed her somewhere in her fifties. This must be Ethan’s mom.
She smiled, shifted the veggie tray to her left arm and extended her right hand. “I’m Claire Bennett.”
“Maxine DuBois. Ethan’s mother,” she confirmed, shaking Claire’s hand with a firm grip. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I believe my son might be using you.”
“Is there a right way to take that?” Claire asked, hiding her surprise with an even tone. Her father had taught her the importance of keeping a clear head and an open mind. Emotions could screw up any business deal, especially an unorthodox deal like the one she had with Ethan.
“As bait. To get me to this house. My son is using you as bait. Ethan has a rather extraordinary IQ. I’m sure it was quite simple for him to realize I wouldn’t be able to resist meeting a girlfriend, especially one with two children.”
Huh? Claire couldn’t tell if she’d just been insulted. It certainly felt like she had
, but Maxine’s clipped, cool tone would likely make any statement sound like an insult. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad you decided to join the party.”
“How did you meet my son?”
“Ethan is my son Ty’s soccer coach.”
Maxine pressed her lips so tightly together they paled from loss of blood flow. “Yes.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Ethan told me about his new … job.”
“You don’t care for Ethan’s career choice?”
“Soccer isn’t a career. It’s a sport.”
“In this country alone, professional soccer generates around a half a billion dollars in revenue a year.” Claire silently thanked Wikipedia for providing that nugget of knowledge during her online research to find out more about Ethan.
“That simply proves Americans are willing to spend a ridiculous amount of money on a game.”
Yikes. She’d just met Ethan’s mom, and she’d already hit a hot button. Time to lighten the mood. “What’s your opinion on cannonball competitions? Care to participate?” Claire asked, motioning at the pool with an innocent expression.
“Regrettably, I didn’t bring swimwear,” Maxine said, not sounding the least bit regretful.
“Then you can be the judge.” Claire started down the steps artistically built into the landscape. “Come on, or they’ll start without us.”
Even though Maxine hesitated behind her, Claire felt sure she would eventually join them. Ethan said his mother was argumentative, and argumentative people didn’t usually run away. Instead, they tended to stick around and … well, argue.
Near the edge of the pool, Claire plopped her beach bag on a navy-and-white striped cushioned chaise, shaded her eyes with one hand, and looked to the jumpers standing atop the five-foot waterfall. “Who’s up first?”
“Me!” Grace yelled, jumping in with a loud squeal. She hit the water with an impressive splash for a fifty-pound lightweight.
As soon as she cleared the area, Ty leaped off. His size advantage carried him farther and higher than his sister, but he didn’t stay in as tight of a ball.