Win Me Over (6 page)

“Crazy, isn't it? And you still single.” Reggie laughed and shook his head. Bennett's chuckle died in his throat when he caught sight of Principal Jensen from the corner of his eye. The man was standing off to the side in the gym, clapping along with the music. Bennett knew the idiot meant well, but his tactics pissed him off. He'd be having a long talk with the man very shortly.

Before the coach knew it, only Tate and another senior boy were left to be called, and once again Bennett's nerves were humming. When Tate's name was finally called the crowd went nuts.

Reggie chuckled. “That kid. His ego's gonna be insane by the time this season's out.”

“Yep. Can't say he hasn't earned it, though.”

“For sure,” Reggie replied. A minute later he was jogging out as his name was called.

Bennett took a deep breath, his heart hammering.
Just another part of the job
. He swallowed hard as he heard the announcing cheerleader's voice begin again.

“And now make some noise everybody for Preston's favorite coach. Coach Bennett Claaaarrrrrrkkkkk.”

*   *   *

Callie watched in wide-eyed wonderment as the hot-as-sin Bennett Clark sauntered down the center of the kick line. His face looked a little smug and a lot overwhelmed at the incredible reception he was receiving. The students stomped on the bleachers and hollered, like he was a wrestler entering the arena. It was outrageous, and she found herself smiling in spite of herself.

How did a small-town coach become such a celebrity? She recalled Principal Jensen saying Bennett had been in the NFL, so that had to be part of it. It wasn't a surprise she'd never heard of him; she was completely ignorant when it came to professional sports. Even when she was on the dance team in college she didn't keep up with any of the sports beyond her own school, and even then she wouldn't have wanted to be quizzed on it.

Bennett made his way over to his team in the center of the gym floor, who instantly met him with back pats and fist bumps. What did it feel like to be so beloved, and how had she not known that this was happening in the small town she'd called home for nearly two years? All this time, this man was breathing in the same air that she'd been. Had he ever entered her shop? She didn't think so; Eric would have known if this level of sexy had been under his nose.

Speaking of which. Callie sucked in a hard breath as the yelling began to die down and turned to find Eric's head in the crowd. Luckily, he'd been looking at her, too, and instantly he mouthed,
Wow
.
Wow
was an understatement.

She turned back to the gym floor just as the head cheerleader—also the announcer—handed Bennett the microphone. He put up his hands in a shushing gesture and then lifted the mic to his lips. Before he could get a word out a trio of female voices yelled out from the student section behind Callie's head, “We love you, Coach Clark!”

The crowd laughed and cheered and Callie had to stop her mouth from dropping open in shock. Three teenage girls had just inappropriately declared love for their teacher, and the crowd had
laughed
.

And they thought the female dance team coaches were the problem.

Bennett's face turned an adorable light shade of pink and he smiled down at the gym floor, the round top of the microphone rested against his lips, close enough so that his breathy chuckle could be heard huffing through the speakers. The sound sent warmth straight to Callie's toes.

When he finally looked up, his eyes instantly met hers and held for just a second. His lips pursed just the slightest bit before he finally looked away.

What was that about, and why had that warmth inside her body suddenly turned to a low simmer?

“Y'all are too good to me, Preston,” Bennett said. His slight accent rippled through the loudspeaker, making everyone quiet down.

There was no denying that he commanded attention, and here she'd planned to go into his classroom and tell him how it was. That was laughable. And yet … as she watched him shift his weight onto the other leg carefully, she sensed there was a subtle vulnerability to him. She couldn't quite place it, but she knew it was in there. Something in his eyes, which landed on her once more.

Callie couldn't help her lips' inching up just a fraction. She was pretty damn sure he reciprocated, as if they'd just passed a secret message, which was bizarre, because they'd just been at each other's throats a few minutes ago in his classroom.

“It sure is good to see y'all here,” he said, his eyes still on her. Finally he turned around and took in the bleachers from all four sides. They were packed to the rafters; apparently this was the place to be on a Friday afternoon in Preston, Missouri. “Before we get any further, I need to acknowledge a few people standing here with me.”

He looked behind him and then to the other direction behind the players. “My assistant coaches, Reggie, John, Will, Jim. We wouldn't be the team we are if it weren't for these guys.”

Another round of applause radiated through the crowd and Bennett waited for it to quiet down once more before going on. “And also to the parents of these fine,
fine
young men, I thank you for your continued support and dedication.”

More cheers. Bennett waited, stuffing one hand in his pant pocket. It was such a simple movement, but Callie couldn't help thinking that every little gesture he did came off as more manly than the average guy. She noticed that he'd rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, his forearms tanned and lightly covered in dark hair.

Holy shit, she needed to
look away,
if for no other reason then her own sanity. He lifted the mic again.

“It's time for another year of football. I'm ready, the guys are ready, we had an amazing spring ball program, these boys look fantastic, and y'all know me, I'm not an eloquent speaker. In fact, my team knows that I'm not a complicated man.”

Callie laughed to herself. That comment was
so
directed at her. He went on.

“I believe in less talking, more action. So I'd better see all of you tonight, and let's do this thing.”

The entire room took to its feet as the band kicked into the school fight song. Callie refocused on the festivities as the cheerleaders and dance team formed four lines and began their versions of the accompanying dance. The football players took the opportunity to find their seats in the front row of bleachers that had been reserved for them.

Callie made it through the rest of the assembly without glancing down the row even though it killed her. If she and Bennett made eye contact at this point it would get awkward, plus she needed to focus on watching the girls perform today's routine—which they ended up nailing.

Eventually, after a student council skit and some random announcements from the principal, everyone stood and began to exit through the four sets of doors. Realizing that funneling this amount of people out of there would take a while, Callie focused on getting her bag together and then stood to find Eric in the chaos. She was grateful he'd wanted to come and support her at the first performance in front of the entire school. She knew the girls were good, but she'd still been incredibly nervous.

She felt a big hug from behind and smiled as Eric kissed her on the cheek and spun her around to face him.

“Amazing. The kicks were high as hell and in perfect sync. I'm impressed.”

Callie beamed. “They did look fantastic, didn't they? I'm so glad it's over. Now we just have to get through tonight's routine. I didn't think I'd be so nervous.”

“You're a perfectionist, Callie Jo. Your only fault.”

She squeezed Eric's hand; he was such a good friend to her.

“Speaking of perfection,” Eric went on. “I'd heard Coach Clark was hot, but holy hell, he is a ten.”

“You knew he was hot? Why didn't you tell me?” she asked in shock. Eric had been out on a date last night and he'd taken today off, so she hadn't been able to fill him in on the developments of the past twenty-four hours. “You will never believe this, but the principal wanted us to partner up for the Millard Country Club's dance fund-raiser competition.”

“Seriously? Lucky girl.” Eric grinned. “You should totally sleep with him. Then tell me everything.”

“Shhh, good lord, Eric, can you scream that any louder?”

He shrugged. “It's noisy in here.”

And it really was, hundreds of voices pinging off all the wooden surfaces as they lingered and waited for their turn to exit and start their weekend. “Anyway, it doesn't matter, because he said no.”

“You're kidding? That sucks. I talked to Jill Monser in the parking lot just a few minutes ago and she mentioned the fund-raiser. I will admit your sexy coach looks a little too cavemannish to be into ballroom dancing. I got the feeling she was going to ask you to be part of it. Maybe you can dance with someone else.”

Well, there was an idea, but suddenly the whole thing had sort of lost its appeal. “No, I think it's really for the best. This second job has already taken way too much of my time away from the shop, and I hate leaning so much on you and Emma.”

“Don't worry about me, and if you haven't forgotten, you pay us both by the hour, so it's all good.”

She was ready to thank him again when his eyes went wide and he grabbed her head with both hands and leaned down to kiss her just to the right of her lips.

“What the—ew.” She grasped his biceps to keep from falling backwards under the weight of his sudden assault.

Eric just laughed and whispered against her cheek, “This should be interesting. Twelve o'clock; look breathless. I'll catch you later.” He stepped past her and groped her butt as he did. Callie turned in shock and annoyance, her gaze landing on a very irritated-looking Bennett Clark. It almost looked like he'd been coming her way. Instead he turned and got lost in the crowd.

 

Four

Bennett winced in pain as he sat up in bed Saturday morning. They'd won the game last night, but being on his feet for nearly three hours had done a number on his leg. At least it hadn't been an away game. Those were the worst, he hated to travel. Whoever had invented the seats on school busses was evil, and Bennett suffered every time for it.

He grabbed some aspirin from the nightstand and downed them dry.

Saturday after a game was the one and only time Bennett took a break from the home gym in his basement. He was dedicated to staying in shape, keeping the muscles in his legs and hips strong and flexible, but this was his treat to himself. It was nice to just relax after the stress of Friday night football when he woke up feeling like he had a hangover. Once he was up and showered, he would be much better. At the very least, functional.

A fluffy head pushed at his hand until he conceded and stroked it. “Morning to you, too, Misha.” His voice was raw from disuse, but Misha didn't mind, just rolled over onto her back so he could rub her white fluffy belly. After a moment the dog turned and stared up at him with black beady eyes.

Bennett still remembered Ashley bringing her over one day, not much bigger than a cotton ball. Ashley had named her Misha and said the dog was their first
furbaby
. It was still hard to believe that the woman had left not only him but also Misha, whom she'd claimed to adore. But he couldn't complain. The dog had remained his constant companion through a lot of shit over the past eight years.

Bennett gritted his teeth as he stood, grasping his headboard to help pull himself up as a dull ache raced down the back of his thigh. A slight pause, then a deep breath, and he made his way to the shower. He turned the water to may-lose-a-layer-of-skin hot and let it beat on his body.

This shower—with its natural stone tile, six shower- and three rain heads—was one thing he'd never regret paying too much for. His favorite part was that there was no door; you just walked around a partial wall straight into heaven. It was a handful of things that he had left to show that at one time he'd made serious money, ridiculous money. And it had only lasted for one year.

Bennett tilted his head back and let the hot water pummel his face.

Following his father's guidance, Bennett had used most of that first year's pay to create a versatile investment portfolio. Thank god for his dad in that regard, because Bennett had turned out to need it more than he would have ever anticipated.

Being drafted to the NFL had been his dream. As any young athlete would, Bennett had assumed there were many years of multi-million-dollar salaries ahead of him. Didn't happen. But those investments had made it possible for him to take a normal-paying job that he wanted and still purchase and remodel this home outright. Even left him with a nice cushion. Or, he hoped, retirement. Nothing crazy, but he couldn't complain.

After some time in the hot water, Bennett's muscles had turned to liquid and the steam had collected to the point that he probably wouldn't be able to see another human standing at the other end of the shower stall. That was okay, he had a good imagination, and right now his thoughts turned to picturing
her.
The complicated woman he'd been trying hard not to think about. And failing, because something else was hard all right.

In the shower her long blond curls would be wet, heavy against her full breasts. He imagined touching them, her nipples firm and slippery. Her lips would part as he let his hands run all over her body. She would moan and push herself against him, her slick, warm skin flush against his.

“Shit.” Bennett swiped his hair back off his forehead. This was insane.
She
was insane. And she clearly had a boyfriend, which Bennett had found incredibly irritating. He'd really thought that maybe she'd been flirting with him a little in his classroom. The energy between them had been charged, and the way she'd smiled at him in the gym made him want to seek her out again.