by Amelia Judd
His head popped above the water. “How’d I do?” he asked, wiping water from his eyes.
“Great! But Ethan still has to go, and he’s a world-class competitor.”
“True,” Ethan confirmed with a mischievous smile. “And I always play to win.”
Claire bit back a grin and rolled her eyes. “Just jump, Lucky, or I’ll give you a yellow card for stalling.”
“You bet, Boss.” He winked and stepped off the edge, his fully grown, fully muscled body launching a massive wave on impact.
“Phew,” Claire said as soon as all three heads were above water. “Glad I’m not the judge.”
“Who is?” Ty asked, looking around.
“Ethan’s mom,” Claire told them, glancing over her shoulder.
Maxine stood halfway between the pool and the steps leading to the driveway. Even though her expression resembled a disapproving school marm, her body language betrayed nerves. Not only did she clutch her purse tightly to her body, she also shifted her weight from foot to foot as if not quite sure where she should stand.
Claire would hate to be that uncomfortable around one of her own kids. Empathy tugged at her heart, increasing her desire to help fix whatever had caused the rift between Ethan and his mom.
She gave Maxine an encouraging smile and extended her arm in a come-on-over-and-join-me gesture. “Maxine, I’d like to introduce you to my kiddos.” She paused, waiting for Ethan’s mom to move closer.
Maxine stared at her a moment and gave a slight nod. “Yes. That’s why I’m here,” she said almost to herself.
As Maxine approached, Grace, Ty, and Ethan climbed from the pool. Claire tossed them towels, waited for his mom to reach them, and made brief introductions.
“You both had excellent jumps into the pool,” Maxine said, a smile with unexpected warmth replacing her reserved expression. “At this point, it’s really too close to call. Would you be willing to jump a few more times so I can calculate a cumulative score to decide the winner?”
“Sure,” Ty answered, nodding his head in enthusiasm.
“What about Ethan? Are you going to ask him to jump again?” Grace asked, looking over her shoulder to where Ethan stood a few feet away.
Maxine shifted her gaze to her son, the smile slipping from her lips. “No. Ethan does whatever he wants.”
Ouch. Claire saw Ethan tense. He waited for the kids to head toward the pool’s waterfall before moving to stand next to Claire.
“Hi, Mom. Thanks for joining us.”
“As long as your intentions are truly to introduce me to Claire and those two adorable children, I’m happy to be here. If, however, this is an ill-advised attempt to convince me to move into this oversized home, then I’m afraid you’re wasting your time.”
“I bought this house for you,” Ethan said, his tone a mixture of frustration and annoyance. “If you’d only give it a chance, you’d see that it’s perfect.”
“Not for me.” Maxine shook her head and compressed her lips so tightly they started to turn white again.
“This is the type of home we always dreamed of moving into when I was a kid,” Ethan argued. “Now I can afford to give that to you.”
Maxine’s eyes flared. “I could have afforded a big house when you were a child, Ethan. But I chose then—and I choose now—to spend my money and my time wisely. I’ve no desire to take care of such a large property. Look at this place.” She gestured to the estate with a dramatic sweep of her hand. “It’s not designed for a single occupant. Besides, I like my home. It fits me and is close to the university.”
Ethan closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t expect you to pay for the maintenance. I’ll hire a crew to take care of everything for you.”
“You’re not listening to me,” Maxine snapped.
“I always listen,” Ethan sighed, opening his eyes.
“You most certainly do not listen to me.” Maxine’s expression looked chilly enough to freeze the pool. She clutched her purse in front of her body. “I think it’s best if I—”
“Oh look,” Claire interrupted. “The kids are waiting for you to watch them jump again, Maxine. Sit down and enjoy the cannonball show. Ethan and I need to get things ready in the kitchen before the rest of the team arrives.”
“Kids,” Claire yelled to Ty and Grace. “Ethan’s mom is going to lifeguard while we go inside to set up for the party.” She pushed Ethan gently toward the house. “We’ll be right back. Yell if you need us.”
“Time to regroup,” she whispered, following him up a stairway leading to the expansive deck.
“Did I mention she can be argumentative?” Ethan sounded exasperated as he stepped through the glass door separating the deck from the kitchen. “Look at this place. I bought her the best of everything.” He stabbed a finger toward a high-end gas range. “The range and hood alone cost more than a lot of new cars. The fridge was nearly as much, and the cabinets—”
“Are from Bennett Industries premier line which is custom made by our finest craftsmen and likely cost more than all of the appliances combined,” Claire finished, sliding the door closed to stop their voices from carrying.
Ethan turned to her with a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Forgot who I was talking to.”
“No need to apologize. Parents can be frustrating sometimes.”
“It’s been like this for years.” He began kneading the back of his neck.
“When’s the last time you two spent time together for fun?”
“You met her. She’s not exactly a ‘fun’ kinda mom.”
“Okay. Maybe fun was the wrong word. When’s the last time you were together without debating your opposing opinions?”
Ethan opened his mouth to answer, then froze, a frown creasing his brow. “Years,” he said on a drawn-out sigh. “It started back in high school. She wanted me to focus on academics, not soccer. She lost it when I decided to skip college to play professionally.”
“Most parents would have been proud.”
“Mom teaches mathematics at the university. She’s devoted her life to academics and can’t understand why I chose a sport over a degree. I come home at least once a year to see her, and we always end up fighting.”
“Let’s break that pattern.” Claire gave him an encouraging smile. “For the rest of the afternoon and evening, we’ll avoid all argument-inducing topics.”
Ethan cocked a skeptical eyebrow. “Not sure that’s possible.”
“Sure, it is.” She chucked him on the shoulder. “Once all the families from the team arrive, you’ll have to play host. That will give you a good reason to step away if you feel an argument brewing. I’ll help by changing the subject anytime I sense tension.”
He gave a humorless chuckle. “You’re going to be changing the subject a lot.”
“So? I don’t care if your mom thinks I have an attention problem as long as it lets you two spend some quality time together.” She stepped closer and placed her hand on his arm.
She felt him tense beneath her touch and snatched her hand back. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He reached out and linked his fingers through hers. He slowly raised her hand to his lips and brushed a light kiss on her heated skin. “I liked it,” he murmured, his low voice rumbling against her sensitive nerves.
So did she. Too much. “Ethan …” Her whisper trailed off, making it obvious she had no flipping clue what to say next.
“Claire,” he answered in a sexy timbre. Lowering their joined hands, he stepped closer until their bodies were only inches apart.
She tipped her head back to look up at him. She could feel the heat from his body and smell the mixture of chlorine and the summer sun rising from his skin. Only their hands touched, but her body purred in awareness.
“Unless you stop me in the next few seconds, I’m going to kiss you,” he murmured lowering his head toward hers.
She should step away. She should remind both of them this relationship was a farce, nothi
ng more than a solution to a problem. She should do a lot of responsible things. For once in her life, she didn’t do any of them.
Claire gripped his hand tighter, lifted to her tiptoes, and pressed her lips to Ethan’s, meeting and matching his kiss. He moaned a husky sigh in response and set about slowly, thoroughly exploring her lips with his. The sweet kiss went on for countless moments. Neither tried to deepen it—both content to keep it soft, gentle, and romantic.
Romantic? The word blazed through Claire’s brain like a flashing sign warning of danger ahead. She’d learned romance was nothing more than a quickly fading illusion. After her failed marriage, she thought she’d killed her romantic tendencies, yanking the nasty weed from her heart. Now, with the slightest bit of nourishment, it had reared its ugly head.
She scrambled backwards. “Ethan, I—”
“We’ve got company,” he quietly interrupted, his gaze shifting to something behind her.
Company? Her stomach sank to the polished wooden floor as she wondered exactly who had caught them locking lips.
With a mental cringe, Claire did a slow one-eighty to discover about half the team’s parents and players standing on the deck outside of the kitchen, the wide wall of windows providing no visual division between the two spaces. Some parents were jockeying for a better position. Some were covering their kid’s eyes. All of them were wearing the same stunned expression.
“Smile,” Ethan said, throwing his arm over her shoulder. “It’s game time.”
Chapter 9
IN her professional life, Claire handled stressful situations with a combination of clear-headed thinking and trust-inspiring composure. Known for her cool confidence, people from all over the company came to her when issues spiraled out of control. Claire had a way of breaking even the biggest crises down into manageable pieces.
She’d like to think she faced stressors in her personal life with the same aplomb. If the way she remained rooted to the kitchen floor, staring saucer-eyed and open-mouthed was anything to go by, then she seriously sucked at dealing with crises in her personal life.
“Breathe,” Ethan soothed, likely in response to the nervous, slightly bizarre, guttural sound coming from the back of her throat.
He kept a casual arm around her shoulders, guided her forward, and slid the door open. “Welcome, guys. Make yourself at home. Hop in the pool, check out the beach, or grab a drink and enjoy the patio.” He sounded completely comfortable with her inches from his side. “We were just about to fire up the grill.”
Needing no further invitation, the kids bolted from the deck in a rush of excited chatter. A few seconds later, splashes from bodies hitting the water and laughter filled the air.
The team’s parents weren’t so easily distracted.
“So, you two are … ?” Chuck Lenley, the town’s best electrician and dad of the team’s top defender, gestured between Claire and Ethan with a tentative, curious expression on his lean face.
“Together,” Ethan filled in the blank.
Heather Haventale shouldered her way to the front. “Isn’t that a major conflict of interest? My son shouldn’t sit the bench because she’s”—Heather curled her lip and pointed at Claire—“working it.” She crossed her arms and glared, outrage oozing from her short frame.
Claire ground her teeth to stop herself from telling Heather to shut the hell up. From the amount of time her son played in a game to the team’s uniform color, the woman whined about everything. She was one of those utterly annoying people who failed to understand the compromises and trust required from being on a team.
“Every decision I make regarding the team is based on what I think is best for the boys’ development as soccer players, teammates, and—more importantly to me—decent human beings.” Like any great leader, Ethan’s voice carried an authoritative weight that managed to inspire confidence and head off dissent. “But I’m the new guy here,” he said with a charming smile, his tone going light and friendly. “I can ask to be transferred to a different team if you all don’t feel comfortable that I’m dating Claire.”
Well played, Claire thought, biting back a smile as an overwhelming chorus of support for Ethan to remain coach thundered through the air. Shaking her head like crazy, even Heather looked panicked at the thought, likely not wanting to be known as the woman who drove a world-class coach from the team’s roster.
“Okay,” Ethan said, beaming at his adoring fans with an aw-shucks expression. “It’s settled. I’ll coach the team and date this beautiful lady.” He pulled her close to his side and dropped a playful kiss on top of her head. “I’m a lucky guy,” he murmured next to her ear.
She rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the gut. But truthfully, her elbow lacked any real force and lingered—of its own accord, she was pretty sure—against his muscled abs a little longer than necessary. She knew his adoration was an exaggerated act for the audience. Honestly, she did. But that didn’t stop her heart from doing flip-flops every time he flirted with her, or touched her, or murmured anything next to her ear.
Thankfully, the rest of the evening passed by quickly in a festive blur of activity. Claire bounced between feeding hungry kids, sidestepping questions about her love life, and eavesdropping on conversations between Ethan and his mom in case things started to escalate.
She could tell Ethan was doing his best to keep the peace, and it looked like his mom wanted to get along as well, even if she did sneak in a few zingers. At one point or another, Claire heard her complain about Ethan’s career choice, his lack of a college degree, and, of course, his “nonsensical housing purchase.”
Each time, Claire made up an excuse to pull Ethan away before old battles could flare back to life. By the time the last two families packed up their soggy swim bags and headed for home around nine o’clock, she could see the signs of stress building around Ethan’s eyes.
“You did good tonight,” Claire said, helping Ethan pull inflatable toys from the pool.
Still in his board shorts, he tossed a grin over his shoulder as he snatched the lanky neck of a giant blow-up flamingo and hauled it from its watery home. “Thanks. I knew the team’s parents would see things my way. I wish I could say the same thing about my mom.” He deposited the flamingo on the pool deck to dry and looked around. “Did she leave?”
“Nope,” Claire said, picking up balls and dive sticks scattered around the pool. “I told Ty and Grace to take her around the house on a self-guided tour while we cleaned up out here.”
“Great idea.” He eyed her with an impressed look as he walked closer. “Maybe she’ll be more positive about it if I’m not the one showing her around.”
“That’s my hope. Plus, I wanted to discuss our next date without an audience. Would next Saturday night work for dinner and a movie?”
“I might have plans for next Saturday. How about Friday night instead?”
“Plans?” Hurt and surprise slashed through her. “Are you two-timing your pretend girlfriend with a real one, Lucky?”
“I’m trying to.” He grinned.
She narrowed her eyes and poked him hard in the chest. “You’re the one who insisted on helping.”
He cocked his head. “Even though you’re absolutely adorable right now, there’s no need to be jealous. I—”
“I’m not jealous,” she snapped. “I have no right to be jealous. We aren’t together. The idea of you with another woman doesn’t bother me at all. I don’t even care who she is.” Claire crossed her arms and glared, unable to stop her foot from tapping impatiently atop the brick patio pavers. “Solely out of curiosity, who is she?”
“You.”
Her foot stopped tapping. “Me?”
“Yeah. I called in a favor and have four tickets to the soccer match in Chicago on Saturday. I want to take you and the kids.” He shrugged. “Grace mentioned she doesn’t enjoy soccer as much, so I thought we could hit the zoo in the afternoon before the match for her.”
Claire swallowed hard, inexplica
bly touched he’d not only included her kids, but he’d planned a day based on what they’d like to do. “That sounds really nice. They’ll love it. We can skip plans for Friday night and make Saturday our weekly date instead.”
“If you want people to believe you’re gaga over me, it’s okay if we see each other more than once a week.”
She drew in a breath and opened her mouth, ready to argue.
“Nope.” He shook his head. “Soccer practice doesn’t count.”
She went brows up. “How do you read me so easily?” She shot up her hand in a stop-right-there gesture. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.” Turning from him, Claire picked up her beach bag and started gathering her kids’ clothes, googles, and towels.
“You know I’m right.”
Avoiding eye contact, she crammed a dripping towel into the flowery bag. “Fine. We don’t have to always limit our dates to once a week. We do need to remember that our pretend relationship ends mid-October.”
“Absolutely.” He winked.
Claire dropped a pair of googles into the bag and eyed him suspiciously. “I get nervous when you’re this agreeable.”
“I’m always agreeable,” he countered.
She hefted the bag to her shoulder, then shifted it in front of her—using it like some sort of overstuffed, soggy, floral shield against him. “Good. Then we both agree this only lasts until the auction.”
“Whatever you say. Now we should finish cleaning up before Mom breaks into her lecture on why students need to take as much math as possible.” Ethan scooped a thick foam mat from the water with ease, his wet body glistening in the landscape lighting. “While it’s a real crowd pleaser with her mathematics buddies, Grace and Ty will never want to hang with us again if they have to smile and nod through the unabridged version.”
Claire tore her gaze from Ethan’s bare torso as he walked by with the mat and cleared her throat. “Um. Yeah. Okay,” she mumbled, scanning the area for a distraction. Her eyes landed on a smiling, life-sized, inflatable dolphin floating a few feet from the pool’s edge. Bingo.