Homecoming King

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Homecoming King Page 10

by Jami Albright


  The word fucking falling from her beautiful lips is disorienting. On one hand, it’s incredibly wrong, but on the other, it’s hot as hell. “Sounds like Watson hasn’t changed that much. I’m glad you got away from him.”

  She lifts her cup in salute. “Life’s too short to be unhappy.”

  I’m shocked by the jolt of jealousy that shoots through me. She had the courage to walk away from her miserable situation.

  Get over yourself, King. You’re not miserable. You love football.

  I do.

  I’m just tired of everything—the injuries, the constant scrutiny of the fans, and the dicks in the media with their armchair quarterbacking. But I love my teammates. They’re family. I also see how hard not playing ball has affected Duke. He’s rebounded well enough, but he had something to fall back on. I’ve got nothing. Football’s all I know. I left college my junior year, and while it was the right decision at the time, it’s left me a thirty-year-old man without a college degree.

  “Cash?”

  Shit, what’d I miss? I gather the conversation to me and shuffle back through what we were talking about. “Is that when you started working for Donny?”

  “That’s when I went on the payroll.” She laughed. “I’d been helping Maggie and Donny run the office for a while. It was Maggie’s job, but she was a little busy fighting cancer, so I volunteered to help. Brad hated it.”

  “Why?”

  Fire burns in her blue orbs. “Because being the mayor’s decoration was a full-time job. He didn’t like that I wasn’t at his beck and call. When I left him, Donny hired me full time. Maggie was better, but she’d decided that she didn’t want to be away from the kids. Being sick rearranged her priorities.”

  “I guess it would. So, she’s okay now?”

  The happy, loving look that takes over her lovely face is brilliant. “Yes, she’s healthy, but she’s annoying as crap. Her sunny disposition makes Pollyanna look like she has severe depression.”

  I laugh at her switch to a put-upon expression. “That bad, huh?”

  “You can’t imagine.” It’s hard to believe that it really bothers her with the adoration in her tone. “Anyway, for a long time, I only ran the business part of Lewis Construction, but about eight months ago, Donny started using me as the project manager on some of the jobs.”

  “And here you are.”

  “And here I am.” She rubs her hands over her face. “I can’t believe I told you all of that stuff.”

  “Does that mean we’re friends now?” I want more than anything for her to say yes.

  Her lips part and turn up at the corners. “Sure.”

  I raise my coffee mug in a toast. “Friends.”

  “Friends.” She clinks her cup to mine. Then her eyes narrow, and I can see the wheels turning in her fascinating brain. “So … friend… wanna help me castrate my ex-husband?”

  I lower my mug. “I’m your man.” I ignore the voice begging for it to be true.

  “Excellent.” The curve of her full lips is a siren’s song that could make me do anything.

  “Let me wash up first.” I rise and head for the door. “I like to do my maiming freshly showered.”

  Sixteen

  Tiger

  Cash took one look at my Camry and insisted on taking his car. That’s why we’re driving through town, on our way to City Hall, in this ridiculously flashy and expensive Bugatti. I made a crack about him needing to compensate for something with this vehicle, but I have firsthand knowledge that he’s got nothing to make up for in that department.

  But I still can’t stop myself from giving him a hard time. “So, this is kind of a sissy car.”

  His lip kicks up, and he cuts his eyes to me. “Yeah, a twelve hundred horsepower engine is kind of wimpy, but it’s all I could afford.”

  “Shame.”

  “Yeah.”

  “They really should pay you guys more.”

  “It’s a real injustice.”

  “Ha! I’d say. Do you know what teachers make in Texas?”

  The muscle in his jaw jumps. “No idea.”

  “Let’s just say that they get paid less than you pay in taxes. That’s the real crime.”

  He smooths his hand over the steering wheel. “I’m not sure you understand how this whole friend thing works. Usually insults aren’t part of the deal.” There’s a lightness to his tone, but that muscle is still spasming in his jaw.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. You can’t help that we live in a society that values the wrong things.” Good Lord, I can’t seem to stop.

  “With all these compliments, you’re going to make me blush.”

  I pull one leg underneath me and turn in my seat. “I’m pretty sure your ego can take it.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine, Kitty Cat. You’re not wrong. It is a screwed-up system.”

  “Why do you insist on calling me that?” He’s been doing it since we were in high school, and if I’m honest, I loved it until all that crap went down at the homecoming dance. After that, it slid from his lips like poison, and I hated it. Funny how a name can mean one thing or something completely different depending on the intent of the speaker.

  He shrugs. “I always liked calling you something that no one else did.” Then he seems to remember that time after homecoming. “I’m sorry it turned into something bad.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not. You didn’t deserve that from me.”

  I don’t want to rehash the past. In the grand scheme of things, it hardly matters. “Thank you.” I point to an empty spot on the street. “There’s a parking space.”

  He parallel parks like a pro, of course he does, and eyes the beat-up Jeep in front of us and the giant truck behind us.

  “Come on, football player. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “She’ll.”

  “What?”

  “She’s a she … Lola.”

  “You named your car after a stripper?”

  “Lola’s a perfectly respectable name.”

  The indignation in his voice makes me laugh. “Please forgive me for the insult.”

  “Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to Lola.”

  I laugh again and one dark eyebrow slides up his brow.

  “You’re serious?”

  Still he says nothing.

  “Fine.” I rub my hand over the dashboard of the car. “I’m very sorry, Lola. Happy?”

  “I’m satisfied. Now quit stalling, and let’s go.”

  We exit the car and walk up the street to City Hall. It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining, but there’s a cool breeze to ward off the heat.

  “Yoohoo! Tiger, dear.” Marjorie Stemp, our high school guidance counselor, is waving her hand and making her way to us.

  “Mrs. Stemp, how are you today?”

  “I’m well, Tiger. How are you?”

  “I’m fine.” I motion to Cash. “You remember Cash?”

  “Yes.” She nods, and the thin line of her lips barely moves as she speaks.

  What is wrong with her? She’s one of the sweetest women in town. It hits me when I see her throwing Cash the side-eye. “Mrs. Stemp, Cash has explained to me that he didn’t turn down the grant. That sort of thing goes through his foundation, and he isn’t involved in the day-to-day running of the organization.”

  “Oh.” Her faded green eyes shift from me to Cash. “Still, this is your hometown, Cash King. Seems to me, whoever runs that operation of yours should know that.”

  “Yes, ma’am, he should.” Cash’s response is as tight as the gray curls coming out of Ms. Stemp’s head.

  I feel obliged to defend him, even though I accused him of the same thing just a few hours ago. “Mrs. Stemp, there was a problem with the application.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to yank them back, but it’s too late for that.

  “Oh.” The older woman looks from me to Cash. “Well,
it appears I owe you an apology, Cash. I’m very sorry.”

  “No problem.”

  Mrs. Stemp takes my hand in hers. “And, Tiger, you don’t need to feel one bit bad about that application. Those forms can be difficult. I’m sure everyone will understand.” She pats my cheek and gives Cash a cheeky grin. “With a face like that, she doesn’t need to know how to fill out a silly ol’ application. Right? And our Tiger did come up with that cute little tagline for the center—family, community, unity. That’s very clever of her, isn’t it?” The compliment is so condescending that I wish she’d just kept it to herself.

  A dimple forms between his perfect brows. “No, that’s not what happened—”

  “It’s all right. I understand.” She gives him a stage whisper.

  “Mrs. Stemp, listen. Tiger filled out the application correctly—”

  “I’m sure she did.” She pats his arm and winks.

  “That’s—”

  I clear my throat and shake my head. There’s no use in trying to plead my case. “Well, it was good to see you, Mrs. Stemp.”

  “This does explain why you two are an item.” She elbows me. “Good play.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  In that same non-whispering tone she used with Cash earlier, she says, “If you can’t get the money one way, then get it another way. Very clever, Tiger.”

  “What do you mean, an item, Mrs. Stemp?” Is she insinuating what I think she is?

  “You know, honey.” Her eyes get big, and she nods at Cash then back to me. “An item.”

  “We’re not—”

  Her wrinkly lips make a little O. “Oh, my. I didn’t think it was a secret, since Mayor Watson mentioned it at morning coffee earlier at Trudi’s. But if it’s confidential, I won’t tell a soul.” She brings her fingers in front of her mouth and turns her hand like she’s locking her lips. “I’ll see you two later.” She makes her way past us and down the sidewalk.

  So many thoughts are exploding through my brain that for a moment I can’t form a response. Finally, everything aligns, and I know exactly what I have to do.

  “I’m going to kill him.” I take off toward the front door of City Hall.

  “Tiger,” Cash calls from behind me, but I barely hear him through the haze of red-hot fury. Everyone thinks I screwed up and now I’m trying to make up for it by screwing Cash. And I’m positive that Brad painted the dots for everyone at Trudi’s and waited for them to draw the picture.

  Cash catches up and pulls the front door open and holds it for me. “Same ol’ Brad.”

  “Pretty much.” I march down the hall toward the mayor’s office. The more I think about what he’s done, the more furious I get. I burst into the reception area of his domain like my hair’s on fire.

  “Tiger?” Marie, Brad’s secretary, says.

  “Mornin’ Marie.” I stalk toward Brad’s office door. “He in?”

  Marie scurries around the desk. “Um, yes, but he can’t be disturbed.”

  “Too bad.” I throw his door open, and pull up short when I see the city manager, Larissa Owens, sitting on Brad’s lap. “Sorry to disturb important city business, Larissa, but I need a word with the mayor.”

  The woman scrambles to her feet. “Um, sure.”

  “Tiger.” Brad looks like a guilty deer caught in a Mack truck’s headlights.

  “Oh, hi, Cash.” For some reason, Larissa’s flirty tone makes me want to rip her dyed red hair from her scalp.

  “Larissa.” To the man’s credit, he doesn’t indulge the woman’s flirtations. That’s a point to him.

  “What are you doing here, King?”

  Cash sits in one of the visitor chairs in front of Brad’s desk. “I’m only here for the show.”

  “What show? Get out.” The anger in Brad’s tone is so thick you can practically see it, but I notice he stays on the other side of the desk from the six-foot-four football player.

  The trouble-making athlete rests one ankle on his knee and laces his fingers behind his head. “I don’t think I will.”

  My ex stares Cash down. He hasn’t figured out that I’m the biggest threat in the room. “Tiger, why have you brought this meathead here, and why have you stormed into my office?” He softens his tone and smiles. “Not that I’m not glad to see you.”

  “Shut up, Brad.” I place my hands on his desk and lean forward. “I know what you did.”

  “I swear, Larissa planted herself in my lap. I was trying to remove her when you walked in.”

  “You were not trying to remove me. You know what? Kiss my ass, Brad.” Larissa turns to leave, but stops in front of me. “He only wants to get back with you because his approval ratings have dropped.”

  The sneer on her face makes it clear that she thinks I’m not worth it. But this information does explain a lot. I hold up my hands. “Larissa, I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole. He’s all yours.”

  She wrinkles her nose and glances back at my ex. “I don’t want him either.” The slam of the door indicates that she means what she says.

  “Tiger, I swear, I didn’t encourage her.”

  I roll my eyes so far back in my head that it’s a wonder I don’t fall over. “I no longer care who you screw, Brad.”

  “I miss—”

  “But I do care that you continue to screw with my life,” I plow forward.

  He smooths down his tie and sits back in his desk chair. “Tiger, honey.”

  “Don’t you honey me.” Oh, my gosh, my blood pressure must be through the roof. I take several breaths to try to regulate it, but it’s no use. This man and his meanness have cut the line on my self-control. “I know you tampered with the grant application for the rec center.”

  Right there. Just a quick flash of guilt, but I caught it.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Liar.”

  “Tiger, if you’d just calm down and get your emotions in check, then we could have a civilized conversation. You’re quite hysterical.”

  “Dude,” Cash murmurs and shakes his head. The you’re an idiot is implied.

  “Shut up, King. Nobody cares what you have to say.” Brad sounds like an elementary school kid who’s about to go tattle to the teacher.

  Cash laughs. “You’re right. I’d much rather hear what Tiger has to say.”

  “Brad, the application was denied because it was incomplete.”

  “Tiger, I warned you that the project might be over your head. But don’t feel bad, it’s easy to miss things on those documents.” The man behind the desk shakes his head like he’s sorrier than he can say. “It’s a mistake anyone could’ve made.”

  The fake indulgence in his expression makes me want to jump across the desk and punch him in the nose. “The application was perfect when I left it with Marie.” I point at him. “Perfect.” I will not let this bonehead gaslight me one more time. “It was tampered with after I left it at your office. I want to know why.”

  “Honey, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. Honestly, I wish I could take some of the blame for you, but I just can’t. I didn’t touch the application.”

  I step back and bounce on my toes like a boxer getting ready to go into the ring. “You’re a liar.” I stare at him. He’s such a masterful deceiver that he really believes what he’s saying. He’ll never admit it. I’m just wasting my breath.

  “No, I’m not.” A calculating look comes into his eyes, and he glances at Cash, then back to me. “If only you had all the money you needed at your disposal.” He smooths his tie down. “It’s a shame you—”

  “Let’s go, Cash.” He’s alluding to my trust fund, and while I don’t think he’d risk my parent’s anger by talking about it in front of Cash. I’m not taking any chances.

  A snake oil salesman’s grin slithers across Brad’s face. “Tiger, are you embarrassed—”

  “Shut up, Brad.”

  “What about the other thing?” Cash asks, still kicked back in his chair.
>
  I know he’s talking about Brad telling everyone we’re a couple.

  “What other thing?” Brad looks between us. Thankfully the suggestion that Cash and I have a secret seems to have distracted him from outing me about my trust fund.

  “Nothing.” I turn to Cash and extend my hand. “You ready?”

  His smile tells me he knows what I’m up to. “Yeah.”

  “What thing?” Brad whines, but we ignore him.

  Cash stands and places his hands on my face. The slightest wink is all the warning I get before his lips touch mine. Time stops, and are those angels singing somewhere? Cash’s mouth is closed, there’s no tongue, he’s not tasting me or plundering my mouth, and yet it’s the best kiss I’ve ever had.

  Good Lord, Cash King is a face holder.

  Brad’s indignant intake of air makes me want to take a victory lap around the room.

  “Excuse me.” The barely restrained fury in the mayor’s voice cuts through my blissful haze.

  Cash pulls back ever so slightly. “You good?”

  “Mmmm.”

  He presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh. It’s probably because of the blissed-out look that I know adorns my face. Hopefully he’ll think it’s an act, but it’s not.

  Not. At. All.

  I need to be careful, because my libido could get me into some serious trouble with this man.

  “You two can leave now.”

  I glance at the man who I wasted years of my life on and feel nothing but regret.

  Cash slips his arm around my shoulders. “Watson, I know you’re lying about the application, but it doesn’t matter, because I’m going to make sure Tiger gets the money she needs to save the center. So you lose.” His eyes eat me up with their intensity. The lips that were just on mine turn up at the corners. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Okay.” I have the satisfaction of seeing Brad’s shell-shocked, almost panicked face. It seems like an extreme reaction, though, especially for a chaste kiss. But who knows what goes on in that man’s mind?

  “This isn’t over, Tiger.”

  Is he for real? “Yeah, it is.”

  Of course we’re over.

 

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