Pete Sebastian, Coach
Page 9
“Goodnight.”
Coach Bass pulled away from the curb and headed home.
Jo climbed the stairs where her pug sat patiently, holding the leash in her mouth. “Right, girl. It’s walk time.”
After the walk, Jo undressed and slipped into bed with Daisy curled up next to her. It seemed strangely empty without the coach. She stared out the window. Maybe it’s time to rethink my overnight rule.
She smiled as she slipped into a deep, restful sleep.
Chapter Six
The Sunday pancake breakfast turned into an all-day date. They ate, walked on the beach, made love, cooked dinner together, and watched a movie. Daisy explored the large house, sniffing every corner. She chased seagulls and barked at the waves, while the couple waded in the chilly surf and looked for shells.
Before she left, they renewed their vow to keep their affair out of the office.
“Remember, tomorrow, at the stadium, we’re only colleagues,” he said.
“Right. Of course.” She nodded.
At ten, Jo packed Daisy into the car and drove home. Her house seemed quiet and empty. Pete was a big man, tall and well-built. He filled the space around him. She missed it in her small house. As she sat on the edge of her bed, brushing her dog, she analyzed her budding relationship with Coach Bass. Surprised she was so relaxed about it, she smiled. Jo admitted to herself that her comfort level with the sexy man grew with each encounter.
Old worries entered her thoughts. Will he dump me? Am I going too fast? She pushed aside concerns, determined to enjoy herself, and passed a peaceful night, cuddled up with her snoring pug.
The next morning, Jo awoke full of energy and eager to see Pete. Arriving at the office early, she put up a pot of coffee and sorted through her email as she sipped. Coach Bass rolled in around eight thirty. Her pulse jumped as she recognized his footfall coming down the hall. She couldn’t suppress a smile. Without making direct eye contact, he stopped at her door, gave a brief nod with a curt “good morning,” and then continued on to his own space.
Jo’s heart twisted. She hadn’t expected such a cool demeanor. It hurt. We said professional in the office. But not frigid. Insecurity made it hard for her to accept that his coldness was simply an act. Anger rose in her throat. He’s not going to toss me aside so fast.
She sauntered to his door and blocked the doorway. With his back to her, Pete sloughed off his suit jacket and draped it over his chair. She cleared her throat.
He whirled around.
“We said professional in the office. Not icebergs. If you want to stop seeing me, just say so.”
“Morning, Josie,” he said, before grabbing her. He wrapped his large hands around her arms and pulled her into his office and his embrace. His mouth found hers for a passionate, deep kiss before he released her.
Jo’s eyes widened as she stared at his grinning face. “What the hell?” she gasped.
“No one’s here. No one can see us. I like to kiss my girl good morning.”
Jo burst out laughing. “I thought we were playing it cool.”
“Only in front of other people. I’m sorry about before. I thought Edie was here. I could swear I saw her coat.”
“She must have been in the ladies’ room.”
“Then, I did the right thing. But no one is down here, or even walking by, at this hour.” He advanced toward her with lust in his eye.
Jo straight-armed him. “Whoa. Wait a minute. Lyle could come through at any moment.”
“He never gets in before ten. I think his wife wears him out every night. I’d like to wear you out…”
“Pete…” she started, but his lips trapped her words as he kissed her senseless.
Voices drifted down the hallway, causing the couple to jump apart. Jo straightened her blouse and jacket before smoothing her hair. Lipstick. One glance told her where her lip rouge had gone. All over Pete’s face! She whispered, “Handkerchief?”
He whipped one out of his back pocket and handed it over.
She cleaned the color off his mouth and stuffed the cloth back in his hand. She took a deep breath. “I was just saying…” Jo fussed with her ponytail as the voices got louder.
“Oh, there you are. I need your help. The media are calling for interviews about the new anger management thing, and I need you to prep me. Morning, Pete,” Lyle said. Edie stood by his side, scribbling on a pad.
Jo wondered if she was blushing. Lyle appeared unaware of their clinch, but Edie cast a suspicious eye at her then Pete.
“Great. Let me get my notes.” Jo shot Pete a quick glance before leaving his office.
Edie coughed. “Good morning, Coach.” Jo could swear she detected a warm smile on the woman’s face as she walked by.
Jo couldn’t believe how insecure Lyle Barker was about the press. She coached him and promised to type up some notes and key phrases he could memorize. Edie gave her the schedule of the three interviews.
“I’m not doing this without you there, lady. You step in if I’m not answering fast enough. This is your idea. Now, you help defend it to the press. Don’t let them think our boys are maniacs, beating people up all the time, you hear?”
“Yes, Lyle.”
“Good. Be there. Be prepared.” He picked up the phone.
Jo returned to her office and sat down at her computer. The walls were not thick, and she could make out Pete’s end of a phone conversation. She opened a fresh page in Word, but the deep sound of his laughter distracted her.
As she sat, lecturing herself on being professional, all she could think of was the vibration of his laugh as she rested her head on his bare chest in bed. The warmth of him penetrated the barrier between them, drawing her thoughts to time spent together. She sighed and gazed out the window, allowing herself to enjoy the memory of their day together.
The sound of a throat clearing startled Jo. She blinked a couple of times before turning to face the door. Dr. Wendy McMillan hesitated in the doorway. “Am I disturbing you? You seemed so lost in thought.”
Reliving bed-time with the coach. “No, no, come in,” Jo said, praying color wasn’t seeping into her cheeks.
Wendy took a seat opposite Jo’s desk. “I’ve got the list. Do you want to help me put together the groups?”
“Sure. Of course.”
“Good. Does now work?”
“Perfect.” I can’t focus on writing anyway.
“Where do you want to set up?”
“How about the conference room? Then, we can spread out.” Jo pushed to her feet.
The two women laid out the documents on the long table. As they discussed which players would be best in each group, Coach Bass strolled in.
“What you up to, ladies?” He rubbed his neck.
“Setting up the groups for the program,” Wendy volunteered.
Jo tried to look away, but his deep, warm voice drew her gaze. Her eyes met his for only a moment, but it was enough to see a flash of lust. A shiver shot up her spine. Quickly lowering her lashes, Jo prayed Dr. McMillan hadn’t picked up on the electricity crackling in the air. Stay away from each other? Yeah. Right.
“I don’t want to disturb you,” he said, backing out of the room, avoiding Jo’s stare.
She turned her attention back to the questionnaires Wendy was putting in piles. The men participating in the anger management class had filled them out.
“Seems Coach is kind of sweet on you,” Wendy said, as she alphabetized the papers.
Jo shook her head. She didn’t trust her voice.
“Maybe I’m wrong, but the vibe—”
“No!” Jo blurted out.
The doctor stopped what she was doing and stared at Jo. “It’s okay. Nothing to be upset about. Just an observation. I could be very wrong. But—”
“He’s just a friendly man. We have nothing in common.”
Wendy nodded, but her smile gave her away.
Crap! She knows. “Maybe you and the coach?” Throw her off the trail?
&nb
sp; “I’ve got someone else in mind.”
“Oh? Who?”
“Joel? The team doctor? Do you know him? We’re having lunch today.”
“How wonderful,” Jo said, letting out the breath she was holding.
At noon, Wendy hurried off to fix her hair and lipstick before her lunch date. Jo heated the leftover chili she had brought with her then headed downstairs. She found a pleasant spot in the sun in the stands and sat down, alone, to eat. The problem of working in the same office with the coach and keeping her hands off him weighed on her. She toyed with her food.
What the hell do I do now? This is why I never dated anyone in the office before. What was I thinking? She laughed at herself, knowing it was too late to give up Pete Sebastian, the best man she’d ever been with. He had already entwined himself around her heart. Walking away was no longer an option.
After forcing herself to eat half her food, she closed the container and headed back toward the stairs. A young woman stood in the archway, her gaze perusing the stands, her lips in a frown.
Jo walked up to her. “Excuse me, miss? Can I help you?”
“I’m Samantha Drake. Devon’s sister. He asked me to drop off these papers to the office. Which way do I go?”
“Let me show you.”
“Don’t I know you?”
“I’m Jo Parker. I used to do publicity for the Sidewinders, Devon’s old team.”
“That’s where I know you from. In the special section of the stands? Maybe at a game or two?”
“Or all of them. I never missed one.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m the vice president in charge of P.R. for the Kings. What’ve you got there?”
“Some forms. It looks like a questionnaire.”
“May I?” Jo asked, before reaching for the papers.
“Sure. If you can save me a trip, that’d be great. I’m late for a meeting at the New Life Women’s shelter.”
“Oh?” Jo cocked an eyebrow. She glanced down and saw the forms were for the anger management class.
“I volunteer there.”
“Where is it?”
“Between Monroe and Bridgeport.”
An idea entered Jo’s head, and her mind revved up to one hundred miles an hour. “I’d like to talk to you. Can you find time to have lunch with me next week?”
“I’d love to. Can you get these to the right person?”
“They are with the right person. They come to me.”
“Perfect.”
Jo handed the young woman her business card. “Please call me so we can schedule lunch. I think the team can help the shelter.”
“That would be fantastic. I’ll call you. Thanks again for taking care of this. Nice to meet you.”
Jo nodded. “Same here,” she called after the woman, who was heading for the parking lot. Jo needed to think. Preoccupied, she opened the plastic container and spooned a small bit of chili into her mouth. If she’d been looking where she was going, she’d never have backed into Coach Bass.
* * * *
In his office, Pete whipped out his handkerchief and mopped his sweaty face. Shit! Close call. What am I doing? One look at Dr. McMillan’s face, and he knew he wasn’t fooling her. How the hell do I pretend not to be dating the one woman I want? He’d have kicked his own butt if he could have reached it.
Instead, he paced. When he glanced out the window, hoping to find the answer to his problem, he spied Jo ambling along the field by herself. She’s smart. Bet she knows.
Pete tried to look nonchalant as he walked down the hall, passing by Edie’s nosy stare. But when he hit the stairs, he took them two at a time. Gotta get to her before she comes in.
He passed the weight room on his way, expecting it to be empty. However, Trunk Mahoney and Buddy Carruthers were leaning against the wall by the door, sucking down water. Shit! Pete took a couple of deep breaths.
“Hey, Coach, working out?” Trunk asked.
“Not today.” He prayed that was the end to the inquiry.
“Where you headed?” Buddy put down his bottle.
The one question he had dreaded. He could feel the red start to creep up his neck. “Just getting some air. Walking. Aerobics. Helps keep me in shape.” He increased his pace, hoping to be out of range before Buddy flung another question at him.
A glance back at two skeptical faces told him his players didn’t buy it, but he kept moving. He turned the corner and burst into a sprint. Just as he reached the grass, boom! Jo Parker backed into him, knocking them both down.
“Ooph” slipped from her mouth as she hit the turf, face first. Unable to stop himself, he fell on top of her, putting his hands out to keep from crushing her. The scent of her perfume tantalized him. He leaned down to brush his lips along her neck. She pushed up and cracked his face with her head. Pain rifled through him. She rolled over and looked up.
“Crap! I’m sorry. Are you okay?” she asked, rubbing the back of her noggin.
He nodded, though he felt far from well. “You?” He rubbed his cheekbone.
Jo removed his hand and probed gently at the swelling flesh with her fingers. “It’s gonna be purple.”
“Shit. Fuck.” Pete bent his knees, resting his weight there and on one elbow. Then, he leaned down and kissed her.
“Don’t. Someone might see us.”
His self-control had evaporated. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, strip her bare, and take her on the field. “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I came down here to get some advice from you.”
“Advice about what?”
“How to keep my hands off you.”
She giggled and cupped his puffy cheek. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“What are we going to do?” He lowered his head to nibble on her neck.
She sighed and lay back, her hair golden against the brilliant green of the perfect grass. “I don’t know. I don’t think we fooled Wendy.”
“Nope. And Edie’s nosy as hell. She’ll figure it out soon, if she hasn’t already.”
“At least the team doesn’t have to know.”
“I wouldn’t count on that. I passed Mahoney and Carruthers on my way here. They gave me the third degree about where I was going. I didn’t have a good answer.”
“Oh, God, no. Really?”
He raised his free hand to cover her breast. A small moan escaped her throat. “Let’s not talk about them.”
“Aren’t we very public here?”
“Who gives a fuck?”
“I thought we did.”
“As long as we’re not having sex on the conference table during a meeting, it’s no one’s damn business,” he murmured.
Jo unbuttoned his shirt and slipped her hand inside. Her warm softness against his chest stoked his fire.
“If you’re gonna do that,” he said, opening the neck of her blouse and kissing his way down to her breast.
At the sound of a throat clearing, Pete snatched his hand back while Jo fumbled with the buttons. He pushed up.
“Uh, Coach?” came Trunk’s voice.
Pete angled his head to see his players as he pushed up out of the awkward position and to his feet. He then extended his hand to help Jo. Her face was red, her eyes cast down. She fiddled with her hair, pulling out the elastic and then putting it back again.
Mortification filled Pete. Tough it out. Pretend you weren’t doing anything.
“Uh, Ms. Parker,” Buddy said, a snicker escaping his throat, “I believe you dropped these.” He held out a couple of papers.
“Oh, yes. Those are mine. Thank you.” The wind had blown them from where they had fallen when she’d bumped into Pete.
“What are you boys doing here?” Pete asked.
Buddy Carruthers shifted his weight. “Just wondering where you were going.”
“Now you know. Something else?” Pete mustered his gruffest voice and his fiercest stare at the two men, but it didn’t scare them. Instead, they hid their laughter
behind their hands.
“No, Coach. Not a thing,” Trunk said, sputtering and grinning.
The two turned back toward the workout room, laughing so hard they could barely walk.
“Guess we don’t have to worry about the team anymore, do we?” Jo sighed.
“Damn it all to hell! Nothing’s private around here. Nothing. Not a God damn thing.” He took her hand as they moved to the entrance. “No reason to hide now,” he said, shaking his head.
Jo looked away as they passed the workout room. Griff Montgomery, holding a bottle of water, lazed against the doorframe, while Buddy and Trunk leaned on the wall. Whispering among the three stopped as Jo and Coach Bass approached.
“Hey, Coach,” Griff called out. “I don’t think candy pink is your color!”
Fuming, Pete ripped a handkerchief out of his pocket and rubbed it over his face. The players doubled over. Their laughter reverberated off the cement walls, increasing the volume and adding to Pete’s discomfort.
Jo squeezed his hand before dropping it. He glanced at her. She was laughing too, though obviously trying not to. Coach Bass shoved the cloth in his back pocket, shrugged, and smiled.
He walked her to her door and glanced at his wristwatch. His brows knitted. “I give it another thirty seconds before Edie has the news. Be prepared for a lot of jokes at our expense.”
Jo pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed him then wiped his lips with her thumb. “I don’t give a fuck,” she said.
Pete’s eyebrows shot up, and he guffawed. She returned to her office and shut the door. The ring of his landline grabbed his attention, and he returned to the business of the day.
* * * *
What the hell is happening to me? What did I just do? Did we almost make love on the field in broad daylight? Crap! I’ve got to get a hold of myself. A grin spread across her face. Always wanted to be the bad girl. Guess it’s never too late. Still, forget Pete and get to work.
Jo chewed her lip. It’s May. Is Mitzi getting married this month? No. Has to be later. Maybe August? California. It’ll be inside. Air conditioning. Doesn’t matter what I wear then. She resolved to buy herself a new dress after work for the wedding.