He turned to Mariella. “As a member of the PTA board, you are aware how budget-strapped we are. Because of Sam’s generosity, the only cost to us is the rent on his apartment.”
“Sam’s experience and expertise are invaluable,” Brian added. “He’s taken a load of worry off my shoulders.”
She heard through the grapevine that Brian had separated from his wife over the summer. He’d found her in bed with another man and was now even more consumed with his job than ever before.
Mariella nodded, and shot a quick smile at Sam.
“My son, Josh, has already learned so much from Coach Kelly. I do want to apologize for his involvement in the altercation after the first game.”
“I appreciate that, and would expect the same from Leslie,” Brian said. “Will she be joining us today?”
Mariella shook her head. “She declined the meeting.”
“That’s too bad.”
Sam folded his hands on the table. “If you recall, Josh and Dante sat the bench during the second game, and I believe they learned a valuable lesson. Sportsmanship before, during and after a game is crucial to a winning team. Titans are supportive of each other, no matter what.”
Principal Taylor smiled in agreement and then glanced at the clock on the wall. “Let’s get started because I know Coach has a three-thirty start time for practice.”
“Thank you.” Sam cleared his throat. “Although I’ll only be here a few months, I feel it’s important to let you know the concerns I have about the soccer field.”
“We keep it mowed and fertilized, don’t we, Brian?”
“Yes,” Sam interrupted, acknowledging Brian’s nod. “But there are ruts and bumps from years of abuse. It’s simply not safe.”
“He’s right,” Brian said. “Coach Lander took the lead on making sure the field was well cared for, but since his illness, the conditions have declined. I also pulled a report on the monies we’ve spent on maintaining the current field over the past three years.”
He passed out copies to the group. “As you can see, costs have been growing exponentially. Currently, we don’t have enough money in the budget to give the lawn appropriate care.”
Mariella traced one of the graphs with her finger. “Hmm...costs go up even as conditions continue to deteriorate. Why is that?”
“I had another landscaper, a friend of mine, evaluate the field as a favor to me,” Brian said. “His conclusion is that the drought conditions we’ve experienced over the past few years in our area have damaged the soil. Reseeding, season after season, has rarely worked and is a waste of money.”
Sam jumped in, addressing Principal Taylor. “An uneven field can cause undue stress on the body, and even cause serious injury. It’s like a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off.” He handed the report back to his boss. “I recommend we replace the existing field with artificial turf as soon as possible.”
“I agree with Coach,” Brian said. “It’s only a matter of time before someone gets hurt.”
“What’s all this going to cost?” Principal Taylor asked, staring hard at the two men.
Sam furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure, as I’ve only played on these fields for most of my professional career. I’ve never been involved in the transition over from grass to turf.”
The principal steepled his fingers. “But I assume you’d know what to look for in terms of quality? Good turf versus bad turf?”
“Of course.” Sam nodded. “I’d be happy to help evaluate samples and choose a vendor.”
“I can call other athletic directors and soccer coaches I know in the region and get recommendations,” Brian offered. “This won’t be a difficult task.”
Principal Taylor leaned back in his chair and huffed out a breath. “But paying for it will be. We cannot ask taxpayers to do more than they are already.”
“I did some research this weekend,” Mariella piped in, and three heads swung toward hers. “There are grants available for this type of work. Once we select the vendor, I’d be happy to help write up our application.”
“Oh? I didn’t know you did that kind of work, Mariella,” Principal Taylor said.
She fought the urge to roll her eyes, not believing he hadn’t heard about her recent efforts for the betterment of Bay Point.
“So far, I’ve written two grant proposals for the city. You know the new steps going down to the beach over at Xebec Crossing? It was paid for by a grant I wrote, and I also worked on one for a new playground.”
“You’re hired!” the principal called out and everyone laughed.
“The PTA can help with fund-raising, too, to help defray the costs,” she added.
They discussed a few more details as a group before adjourning a few minutes earlier than expected. After they all said goodbye, the athletic director and the principal stayed in the conference room for another meeting.
Mariella was silent until she and Sam were outside the school entrance.
“Good meeting, wasn’t it? Sounds like you’re going to get what you wanted.”
“Not everything I want,” he said. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“You don’t have to, Sam,” she demurred. “I don’t want you to be late.”
“Start walking,” he said, smiling, “and I won’t be.”
They moved toward the parking lot. She clasped her hands behind her back and glanced over at him. “I meant what I said back there. Josh loves soccer, but he seems to love it even more now that you are here.”
He shrugged. “I’m not used to being a coach, and I’m still learning the best ways to deal with the kids and their parents. Both can be very temperamental.”
Mariella smiled encouragingly. “You’re doing fine, and like the principal said, everyone appreciates you.”
“What about you? How do you feel about me?”
She looked straight ahead, her throat tightening. “I like you, just like any other parent would.”
“That’s not what I meant. How do you feel about me?”
“I don’t know, Sam,” she replied, bowing her head.
He stopped short just before they reached her vehicle. “Why don’t we meet off the field and figure it out together?”
She turned toward him, wanting so badly for him to kiss her, but they were still on school property.
“Where and when?”
“I’ll text you the details later tonight.”
Mariella leaned against her car in disbelief. Sam Kelly had just asked her out on a date.
* * *
Sometimes it pays to eavesdrop.
Sam spread a thick blanket on the warm sand at Coquina Cove, and set a picnic basket on top.
As soon as he’d heard about the so-called private spot on Bay Point Beach from conversations at Ruby’s Tasty Pastries, the local coffee shop, he knew he had to experience it himself.
Glancing up at the sky, he smiled. It was just after 8:00 p.m., and the sun was already half-set, with hues of red and orange mixing with the dark blue of twilight.
Perfect for seduction.
He had a sensual image of Mariella in his mind that was part of his fantasies for weeks. Knowing she would be in his arms soon made him throb with desire.
Since there was no address, he’d texted Mariella directions and the GPS coordinates. Even with that information, he’d had a little trouble locating the hideaway. Since she was a local, he hoped she’d have better luck, even though she said she’d never been to the cove before.
He peeked into the basket, borrowed from Maisie Barnell. The woman hadn’t outright asked, but he could tell she wanted to know about the lucky lady at the picnic table. While he wouldn’t fess up a name, he did tell her she was a Bay Pointer, to which Maisie enthusiastically applauded.
Sam could still feel the imprint of Maisie’s wet kiss on his cheek.
A thank-you for helping her with her mission to see all the single ladies in Bay Point married in her lifetime. A lofty goal, he thought, that some folks would even call crazy.
He didn’t have the heart to tell Maisie that marriage wasn’t on his mind, especially since his stay in Bay Point would be brief. Something told him the woman wouldn’t have believed him anyway.
Though he didn’t think his attitude was unusual, as he got older, being married seemed to be a must-have milestone. His mother griped he’d long since passed it.
His phone buzzed and he saw a text from Mariella, letting him know she’d arrived. Access to the beach cove was gained by walking down a rocky path hidden among a dense grouping of trees. He made his way up easily, and took her hand to escort her.
Midway down, he became impatient and swept her up in his arms. Her white linen miniskirt flipped up briefly, almost exposing her underwear. He was pleased she’d dressed up for the occasion, but hoped she did it more for herself than for him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded with a giggle, smoothing her skirt back down. “I can walk down on my own.”
She looped her arms around his neck and nestled against him. He sighed inwardly at the feel of her warm bare legs against his arm.
“Yes, and the sun will have set by the time you get there,” he breathed, already getting a hard-on.
“It’s steep,” she said innocently. “I was being cautious.”
“And I’m just being gallant,” he said, nudging her closer. “Besides, this will make up for me not picking you up at your door.”
“I didn’t want Josh to see you.”
“I understand.” He gave her a peck on the forehead. “You want me to be a secret. Your secret.”
He stopped walking, leaned down and gave her long, slow kiss. When he lifted his lips, she gazed into his eyes.
“Is that so wrong?”
“Only when I want to shout to the world how beautiful you are.”
The sound of Mariella’s laugh rang in his ear. “Put me down, Sam.”
“At your service, sweetheart.”
Sam set her down with a gallant bow, admiring her red-painted toes and red leather sandals.
“Allow me to give you a tour of our dining facilities tonight.” He spread his arms wide. “We have a gorgeous sunset, a warm blanket, LED candles and champagne.”
She laughed and tucked her legs under her. “No turkey or pumpkin pie? It is almost Thanksgiving, you know.”
He waggled his eyebrows and patted his flat belly.
“And ruin my figure? I have fruit and cheese instead.”
After joining Mariella, he reached into the basket to get the food. “Any plans for the holiday?”
She took the wrap off a small bowl of grapes. “We’re heading down to my parents’ house in East Los Angeles. What about you?”
“I’m going to Cozumel to visit a former teammate of mine,” he replied, snagging a piece of cheese from another plate. “He’s living there with his wife and teaching soccer to underprivileged children.”
Sam filled two plastic flutes with champagne while she took off her red leather sandals.
“So what are we celebrating?”
He raised his glass. “You. Me. The fact you’re still talking to me.”
“I know,” she teased and took a sip. “Mmm...very bubbly.”
He took a large swallow of his drink and his eyes grew serious. “After what happened at the first game, I really thought I’d never see Josh or you again.”
“I admit I was really angry. But when we both calmed down, I realized how hard he’s worked and how much he loves the game.”
Sam nodded. “He’s a talented kid. I’m just sorry I couldn’t name him team captain. When I announced who it was today, he didn’t seem too upset.”
She put her hand on his knee. “You helped him get past his injury. That’s what is most important. Did he tell you he’s going to his last physical therapy appointment on Friday?”
“No, but that’s terrific news.”
“He has you to thank for it.”
Sam finished his champagne. He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I’m sure his mother had more to do with it than me.”
“Thanks. Being a single parent is hard. I’ve given up a lot for my son.”
He nodded and drew her into his arms. “I can only imagine. Tonight is your night off. Don’t think about anything.”
“Hmm. You’re making it too easy.” She bit into a piece of cheese. “This is delicious.”
Sam nuzzled his nose against her ear, enjoying the smell of her perfume.
“One other thing bothered me about that first game.”
“What’s that?”
“My good luck kiss didn’t work,” she pouted.
“Since we have another game tomorrow night, I guess we’ll have to try again, won’t we?”
Her good luck kiss may not have worked for that particular game, but since their time together, he’d thought of nothing else.
The fact that they’d almost been caught made it all the more exciting. If Josh had not interrupted them, he would have made love to her right there in her kitchen. On the counter, or on the floor, it didn’t matter to him. He suspected that in the heat of the moment, she felt the same.
On Coquina Cove, tucked away against the cliff and shielded by its rocky overhang, they were safe from roving eyes. The location was remote and romantic, and there were no houses around as far as he could tell. But the possibility they might get caught only increased his desire for her.
“I have a confession of my own to make. I’ve wanted you since I saw you on the soccer field.”
She finished her champagne and handed him the empty glass.
“I thought it was that day in the gift shop. Didn’t my palm trees turn you on?”
“No. It was those tight little jogging pants you wore that drove me crazy.” He trailed a finger down her cheek. “Or maybe it was you running around the track, always in sight, but out of reach, during the tryouts. I could barely concentrate on what I was doing. And then that night in your kitchen.”
“Your accent was the deciding factor for me.”
“Oh, really? Not my looks or my money?”
“No, just your voice,” she teased.
His skin flushed hot when her eyes traveled up and down his body. “But I’m sure there are other parts of you that will turn me on, too.”
There it was. The invitation he’d been waiting for, and needed to hear.
Sam smiled and held in a breath of relief. Her boldness seemed sincere, but he needed to ensure there was no misunderstanding on his part. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her.
His feelings for this woman were growing complex, and would take time to sort through. Right now he just wanted to love her with his body, and worry about his heart later.
“Mariella. Are you sure?”
“Is this your British politeness at work?”
“No, I care about you. I want you to be comfortable with me, with us. I don’t want you to re—”
She sat up, pressed two fingers against his lips. The tears in her eyes moved him to the core of his being.
“Shh... I won’t regret this. Just kiss me, Sam, until I can’t feel anything but you.”
He gazed at her, giving her one last chance to push him away, but she leaned in close to him. It was dark now, and the candles made her skin glow even more beautifully.
Knotting his hand in the back of her long hair, he crushed her lips to his. There was nothing demure about the way she accepted his tongue in her mouth. She opened up as if she was starving and he was her sweet nectar, her only source of nutrients.
Her lips, so plump and eager, never departed from his as she cradled her arms possessively around his neck and pu
lled him closer while their kisses flourished and bloomed.
She murmured low in her throat while he tried to satiate her with warm, wet kisses that tumbled over and over. Mariella clasped his head between her hands, sucked on his bottom lip until he groaned, and he knew this time she needed more.
Laughing, she broke away, breathing heavily, and got up on her knees.
He lay down on the blanket and clasped his hands behind his head. He watched, fascinated, as her fingers slowly worked the pearl-like buttons on her red cashmere sweater. The garment slipped easily from her shoulders, revealing a red lacy bra.
Her belly, exposed and flat, served as an altar to her firm breasts, larger than he’d even imagined, as she bent over him. He remembered feeling them over her clothes in her kitchen, and his mouth began to water.
Unable to restrain himself, he propped himself up on one elbow and stole a quick lick. The fabric was rough, and her nipple bounced against his tongue, and before he could grab onto it with his mouth, she pushed him back down.
“Oh, baby, why?” he protested.
Giggling, she gave him no answer as she unsnapped the front of her bra, releasing her breasts to him. He gasped at the sight of her dark nipples, and even darker areolas, and then licked his lips. His hard-on grew in his black jeans, and he caught her eyes appraising the bulge.
She straddled him and undid the buttons of his black button-down shirt, her breasts swaying in the air above him. He hurriedly shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it to the side, then ran his hands over her curves while she moved her hips suggestively over his jeans.
He sucked in a breath as she kissed his bare skin, from his chest to the waistband of his jeans, nipples grazing a hot trail all the way to his belt buckle. With a hard swallow, he got rid of it and then his jeans and underwear, kicking them aside, too.
She let out a coo of delight as his penis sprang free, but before she could touch him, he hiked up her skirt and put his hands on her thighs. Moving higher, he touched her between her legs. Her underwear felt as lacy as her bra, but more important, the fabric was wet with her desire for him.
“Get rid of these,” he grunted, and he folded his hands back behind his head to watch her strip.
Winning Her Holiday Love Page 11