by Marie Harte
Simon wanted a pool.
More, he wanted to stop feeling so guilty all the time.
The silence on the phone felt heavy until Jenna said, “It’s okay, you know.”
Yep. His best friend knew what he was thinking.
He groaned. “It’s not. I can’t relax, ever, if she’s all alone. Aunt Nora’s great, but she’s got her own life. Mom’s just so… I don’t know. She’s like, vulnerable.” Adults acted as if teenagers couldn’t think about anything but themselves. But Simon had been worrying about his mom for ages.
She’d been devastated when his dad passed. He remembered her crying and never stopping, or so it had seemed. Heck, Simon loved his dad, but as time went on, the memories of his father faded. Neal Bragg’s face blurred in his mind sometimes, and only the picture on Simon’s bedside reminded him of that larger-than-life smile and personality.
Every time his mom teared up, or she spoke softly with a smile about his dad, he felt terrible because he didn’t miss the guy so much. As if numbed to his father’s absence after so much time, he didn’t feel anything but guilt because he didn’t feel anything about the loss.
But maybe if his mother had someone special in her life, a guy to take care of her and put her needs before his own, she’d move on. Stop missing the great Neal Bragg all the time. Then Simon could feel less stressed about the future. As it was, anxiety made it difficult to concentrate lately, so he’d decided to avoid it where he could.
He was smart enough to ditch class without getting caught. Normally. But he’d been busted for skipping boring Lit 101. To make matters worse, even at practice, where the coaches and players typically listened to him, no one seemed to be taking his critiques well. Even Coach Stan, an even-tempered guy, hadn’t appreciated Simon’s commentary on how to more effectively coach the linemen.
With so much turmoil, Simon had debated skipping a week of school mornings with a feigned illness, making sure to attend half days so he could still hit practice. But after talking to Flash and taking the guy’s advice, things had settled down.
He was fitting in better. Plus, the guys on the team watched Flash talking to him, mentoring him, and that gave Simon some real cred. Not that Flash only coached Simon. The guy helped everybody without asking for kudos, but his coaching had actually improved Simon’s game. Simon found himself liking, even respecting, the ex-NFL star, despite his initial impression of the dude as a conceited jerk needing the spotlight.
Heck, the reality was a one-eighty from that. Flash went out of his way to avoid attention, especially from some of the pushier football moms.
Yeah, the dude had a lot going for him. “He hasn’t fallen for Davey’s mom.”
Jenna laughed. “Well, that’s brave of him. I swear, it seems like that lady has dated half the town. Mom loathes her.”
“That’s because she hit on your dad.”
“True.” Jenna was silent a moment. “So, are you going to do it?”
“Do what?”
“Simon, please. I can tell you want to set your mom up. You want my help?”
“Maybe. I’m still thinking about it.” Jenna had smarts, charm, and a way to get people to do what she wanted because she was a genuinely nice girl. He could use her help…if he found Flash worthy. And he still had doubts. This was his mom, he was talking about.
“Well, if I help you, you have to help me.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“There’s a boy I like. He’s an idiot, but he’s cute.”
Ah. She’s finally decided to make a move. Simon had been waiting for their weird dynamic to settle. He’d thought maybe she’d made such a fuss over the summer because she liked him. Still not sure how to handle that, he nevertheless felt better that he now understood her earlier weirdness. “I’m listening.”
“Can you help me figure out how to talk to him?”
“Guys are easy. What does he like?”
“He’s into PC gaming and music. And art, I think.”
Simon frowned. “I like Xbox.” And he couldn’t care less about art.
“Duh. I’m not talking about you.”
That didn’t sound right. “But—”
“Hey, I always help you out. Now it’s your turn.”
“Look, I have no problem helping you. But this idiot… Why isn’t he approaching you? I mean, he must be a total douche if you have to figure out how to talk to him. You’re awesome. Why doesn’t he see that?”
She sighed. “I have no idea. But I figure maybe a nudge might show him I’m pretty and accessible.”
“Accessible?” What the heck did that mean?
“Try to come up with some ways I can approach him without him thinking I like him. Okay?”
“Fine.” What kind of loser wouldn’t like Jenna for who she was? “But don’t you think games are beneath you?”
“It’s called dating, Simon. And maybe if boys weren’t such morons, girls wouldn’t have to do weird stuff to make them take notice.”
“Well, yeah. But—”
“Gotta go. Mom’s back. Talk to you tomorrow.” She hung up before he could say any more. Then she texted, And come up with something good, or else!
Simon scowled.
He wanted Jenna happy. He wanted his mom happy. He thought, just maybe, Flash might be the man to keep his mom on her toes. At least he wasn’t creepy or stuck-up like that boring restauranteur. Darren What’s-His-Face. Ugh. What a loser… like the idiot Jenna wanted to notice her.
He had an odd feeling about her dating a guy. For the longest time, it had just been him and her, friends despite their different backgrounds and genders. He had a mom who worked her tail off to make ends meet. Her parents rode in private jets. He liked football, guy stuff, video games. She liked…well, football, guy stuff, and video games.
Aside from that, she was most definitely not a dude. Jenna, he recalled with surprise, not realizing how much he’d buried of what he’d actually seen this past summer, had grown curves. Like, boobs. And she was pretty. More than pretty, actually. Gorgeous. Hot.
Geez. What the heck? If it ever came down to one of them liking the other, she was supposed to be all into him, then he’d let her down easy and they’d continue to be strange best friends.
But trying to get some guy to notice her?
Maybe Jenna had something else going on. His mom was always complaining about his moods and puberty, though he didn’t see any big deal. But what if Jenna had girl stuff going on? He wondered if he should ask his mom about it, then remembered the one time he’d mentioned Aunt Nora being constantly on her period. His mother had gone ape on him. No, best not to mention confusing woman chemistry to his mom.
He’d deal with Jenna on his own. In the meantime, he’d figure out how to get his mom to move on with her life, so he could move on with his. And he’d stop feeling guilty about it. Flash seemed cool. The guy liked football. He had money, so he wouldn’t be sponging off Simon’s mom. But just how decent and trustworthy was he?
And damn it. How trustworthy was this jackass of Jenna’s? Now thoroughly annoyed, Simon plotted. And plotted some more.
******
Becca wheeled her cart down the aisle and groaned as she did a mental rundown of her list. They’d run out of everything, mostly because Simon had a hollow leg. He devoured a bag of potato chips in one sitting. And forget the Oreos. If they lasted longer than an hour it meant her son had taken sick.
Hmm. Maybe she should run to the big club grocer instead. But that meant more shopping, and she’d already filled half her cart.
Decision, decisions.
She stared at the rows of canned baked beans, dithering on what to do, when a cart tapped hers. She blinked up into Mitch Flashman’s penetrating gaze. Gray should be a cold color, but as he watched her, she felt a disturbing warmth fill her.
He smirked. “Well, well. The woman who has a debt to pay. Becca Bragg.”
“Oh, ah, hi…”
“Mitch. Don’t tell me you’ve
forgotten my name already?”
She tried to ignore his grin but felt herself smiling. “Well, Mitch isn’t exactly what I was calling you.”
He laughed, and she liked the sound of his amusement. It wasn’t forced and came from deep inside him. “I can just bet. Simon already told me you thought I was an ass.”
She felt her cheeks heat. “That boy has a big mouth.”
“I know.”
“But you seem to have gone up in his estimation. Are you the new coach now?” Simon had mentioned how little they’d been seeing of Coach Deacon lately.
“Just filling in for my brother while he deals with the pub. His partner’s wife had her baby, so they’ve been busy.”
She smiled. “How nice. But that’s got to be making it difficult for your brother. From all the practice time Simon has, I know you coaches spend a lot of time with the kids. And Simon told me you watch films about the plays too, even when they’re not there.”
He nodded. “It’s amazing how many long hours are involved in coaching at the high school level. The guys don’t get paid nearly enough for all they do.”
She’d wondered about that. Deacon Flashman had also been in the NFL before leaving due to an injury. But she’d have thought he’d still have a sizable fortune tucked away somewhere. He had to coach for the love of the game. “So, what’s your deal?” she asked before she could think the better of it.
“My deal?” Mitch crossed his arms over his chest, and she noticed a very fine male form beneath a blue, cable-knit sweater. Good Lord, it felt as if the temperature in the store had spiked.
She cleared her throat, wanting to remove her coat. “Well, it’s obvious you don’t need the money. You must really love football to agree to help out with our small high school team.”
His stare seemed even more intense.
She refused to squirm. “What?”
“Are you seriously asking about my finances?”
A few people had parked their carts nearby, pretending to browse the canned beans. Please. As if she couldn’t see them listening in.
She frowned. “Finances? I was asking about your love of the game.”
He grinned, and the transformation took him from handsome to drop-dead gorgeous. Damn it.
“I’m filthy rich.”
She sighed. “Not what I was asking.”
“Hey, I’m an open book. You want to know something, just come straight out and ask. No need to beat around the bush.” He wiggled his brows. “And yes, I’m single.”
“I can see why.” She didn’t find him amusing anymore. He made her feel… She didn’t know how he made her feel. But she didn’t like it. “And you wonder why I called you an ass before.”
“What kind of ass? A jackass? A horse’s ass? Can you be more specific?”
She hated how hot her face felt. “Okay, I really need to get going. Great talking to you.” Not.
She wheeled away as if the chased by the hounds of hell.
One aisle over, she moved with deliberation, as if not at all trying to escape from such an annoyingly attractive man. She took deep breaths, forcing her racing heart to slow, and dithered over a box of crackers. She loved the things, but Simon had a tendency to eat them all in one sitting. Hmm. Maybe she’d hide them.
And maybe she could pretend crackers were the most fascinating things on the planet to ignore the fact that Mitch Flashman stood one short aisle over from her. What if he followed her? What should she do?
“Well, you caught me.” Though he didn’t yell, his voice was deep enough to carry.
A woman answered him. “Wonderful to finally meet you, Flash. I’m Marsha Gaines.”
Oh boy. Becca felt for him. When Marsha was in the mood for a feature article for the paper, nothing could shake her.
Marsha gave a light-hearted laugh. “I’ve been dying to get an interview with you. You’re all anyone talks about, lately.” Happily married and part owner of the local paper, Marsha wrote the local foodie column, which kept her stocked in free treats from the smart eateries in town—including Bragg’s Tea. She also wrote whatever editorials she wanted, and apparently, she wanted an inside interview with Mitch.
“Oh, right. Marsha Gaines. The woman who’s been leaving me messages day and night.”
Marsh ignored his dry tone. “Can I get that interview soon? I— Hold on. That’s my cell.” After telling whoever she’d been talking to good-bye, she said, “I need to go. Accident on Broadway. Hey Mitch, can we do the interview tomorrow? By phone is fine if that’s easier.”
“Yeah, that’ll work. Call the school and they can put you through to me in the gym. Say, three thirty, okay?”
“Great. Thanks a ton.”
Becca glanced down the aisle to spot Marsha running past the check out lines.
Then a voice she could have done without hearing said, loudly, “Oh, Flash. Funny running into you here.” Linda Madison sounded positively swoony.
Becca bit her lip to keep from laughing, now buoyed at the thought of the poor man having to deal with Linda after braving Marsha.
“Ah, well, with a town as small as this one, I’m bound to run into all the football parents at one point or another. Nice to see you again, Linda. How’s Davey doing?”
Becca gave him credit for trying to steer the conversation into a safe zone. He obviously didn’t know Linda well.
“He’s great now that you’re coaching him. Thanks so much.” That breathy voice did nothing to Becca but make her long to hand Linda an inhaler. She wondered if Mitch thought it sexy. Then wondered why she cared.
“Excuse me,” a woman said, trying to get to the crackers Becca was blocking.
“Sorry,” she mumbled and moved back, angling toward the cookies. She studied them, listening hard to the conversation on the other side.
Linda doggedly pressed for more one-on-one time to discuss her son. Mitch kept deflecting, at one point telling her straight up that he didn’t feel comfortable giving any one boy too much attention. Plus, Davey was a terrific kid and didn’t need as much help as Linda thought he did.
Becca started to grow annoyed on his behalf. For all that he’d come across as egotistical at first, from all that Simon had said about him and hearing him gently refuse Linda’s advances, Mitch seemed like a decent man.
Plus, her son was going to school and getting along better with the team. She owed Mitch for that. Hadn’t they made a deal?
She found herself hurrying to rejoin him without any idea of what she intended to say. But seeing Linda’s hand on his arm irritated the crap out of her.
She called out to him, “Oh, there you are.” As if she hadn’t just left him five minutes ago.
Linda glared at her, and Becca made a decision she knew she’d regret.
Chapter Five
Spite was never a great motivator in the long run. Becca knew this, yet she still forced a smile. “Hey…Mitch.” Saying his first name felt weird. Intimate. Wrong.
He gave her a relieved smile. “There you are, Becca.”
When she drew within reach, he put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her to him. Ignoring her racing heart, she wrapped her arm around his waist and pinched him where Linda wouldn’t see. Damned if she could get anything but a thin layer of skin between her fingers, though. The man felt like solid muscle.
Oh boy. There went her pulse again.
Linda stared at them, confused.
Becca cleared her throat. “Hi, Linda. I was just helping Mitch find a few things for dinner tomorrow.” Inspiration struck. “Nora and I are welcoming him to town.”
Yes, adding Nora is a stroke of genius. Then it shows Mitch and I are friendly but not direct competition since my sister will be there too. And Nora said she couldn’t think on her feet.
Linda’s expression cooled, but it didn’t turn venomous. A good thing. Mitch might not realize it, but Becca knew how influential Linda Madison was in this town. Despite having divorced her super rich husband—Becca’s landlord�
��Linda maintained plenty of connections with important people.
Becca knew better than to stir things. She should leave Mitch and Linda well enough alone. Yet somehow, she’d taken leave of her senses.
“Nice to see you again, Linda. Come on, Mitch, we have to—”
“How nice,” Linda said, obviously not meaning a word. “I’d asked Flash to join me for dinner, but he said he couldn’t.” She paused. “That it wouldn’t seem right for him to be alone with one of the mothers of his players.”
The number of bean shoppers continued to grow, people taking root in the aisle as they watched the show.
Mitch smiled, and Becca noted the effect that grin had on the ladies around them. She’d swear half of them were salivating over the man.
“Well, now, Linda,” Mitch drawled. “Maybe if you weren’t so attractive, that wouldn’t be an issue.”
Linda blushed. “Oh.”
Wait. She’s too attractive to draw attention, but I’m not?
He continued, “Becca’s been a real sweetheart helping me settle in.” He leaned closer and said in a low voice, “But to be honest, my brother’s got a crush on her cousin, so the ladies are helping me out with a ‘welcome dinner,’ if you get my drift.”
Wouldn’t Nora be thrilled to hear that. Then again, knowing Nora, she might be.
Linda’s eyes widened. “Oh. Well. Enjoy your dinner. And let me know when we can talk, Flash.” Emphasis on the word told Becca, and everyone else, that talk was the last thing on Linda’s mind concerning Mitch.
Linda walked away. In a loud voice, Mitch announced, “Man, is there a sale on beans or what?”
The crowd scattered.
Becca fought the urge to laugh hysterically. She hadn’t been involved in anything so dramatic since her middle school play.
Mitch leaned closer. “You okay? You look weird.”
She laughed. “Oh my God. Your life is crazy.” She got herself together and whispered, “Do you have women hitting on you like that all the time?”