and the memory of the night he’d taken her to the La Quinta flooded his head. The memory of her naked body pressed to his had lowered from his head to his dick, and damned if he hadn’t wanted to relive that night. All five times and twice in the morning.
Slowly, he and Don moved through the gym as people called out to them. Zach nodded and smiled and waved and wondered how his life had come to this. Lusting after a woman who clearly wanted nothing to do with him. That had never happened to him before, and he didn’t know why it was happening now. Maybe his system had gone all peculiar because he was a full-time dad. Although, what that had to do with it he didn’t know.
Someone he didn’t recognize called out to him and he smiled and waved. “Hey there. How you doin’?” More than likely, though, the peculiarity to his system had something to do with his lack of a sex life. It was making him screwy. So to speak.
“Hey, Coach Z.”
“Hey there, Miz Owens,” he called out to Alvin Owens’s mother.
Maybe during the Christmas break, he’d drop Tiffany off at his mom’s in Austin and take a little trip to Denver and hang out with some of his buddies. He’d drink a few beers and get laid. A lot. That ought to take care of it. At least enough so he’d quit fantasizing about an old girlfriend who’d made it really clear she wasn’t interested in the likes of him.
Don stopped at the door to talk to a girl, and Zach continued through the halls of the school to the cafeteria, which had been decorated with paper cutouts of each boy’s jersey. The boosters had set up a table and were selling pennants and foam fingers. Zach grabbed a strawberry ice-cream cone and took a big bite out of the top. Baskin-Robbins might have thirty-one flavors, but he was a strawberry man. Always had been.
“Did you catch the game last Monday?” one of the boosters asked him, as he wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
He didn’t have to ask which game. Not in the heart of Cowboy country. “Sure did. Romo looks good in the pocket this year.” He shoved a hip into a vending machine and talked ball for several more minutes before Joe entered the cafeteria, followed by Tiffany, Kendra, and one of the other dancers. Cindy Ann’s girl maybe. Adele wasn’t with them. Not that he cared one way or the other. Just a mild observation.
He took a big bite out of his ice cream. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to give himself a brain freeze. “Denver is playin’ Pittsburgh Saturday night,” he said, as Joe walked toward him. Tiffany had some sort of dance- team sleepover that night, and pizza, beer, and a ball game with the guys sounded good to Zach.
Joe smiled and rocked back on the heels of his Tony Lamas. “I have a date Saturday night.”
“Good for you.” If anyone needed to get laid, it was Joe. Hell, maybe even more than he did. Zach took a big bite of his cone. “With Cindy Ann?”
“No, that writer.” Joe shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “The one with the curly hair and great behind. She was at your barbecue last weekend.”
“Adele?” Zach swallowed, and his brain froze, but he wasn’t sure it was from the ice cream. Adele couldn’t go out with Joe. She belonged to Zach. He straightened away from the vending machine as if he’d been jerked by invisible strings and threw the rest of his cone in a lined garbage can.
“Yeah. I think I’ll take her somewhere nice. Try and impress her.” Joe grinned, and joked, “Maybe get her good and drunk so she’ll come home with me.”
Normally Zach would have laughed, but he suddenly wasn’t in a laughing mood. No, he was in the mood to kick Joe’s ass, which was a strange feeling for Zach, who’d never been a particularly possessive guy. Adele wasn’t his, and he didn’t know where the feeling that he wanted to kick anyone’s ass was coming from. She could do whatever the hell she pleased. Joe could do whatever he pleased, too. They could do what they pleased together, and it wasn’t any of Zach’s business.
He clapped Joe on the shoulder as he walked around him. “Have fun.”
Chapter 8
Zach’s lengthy strides carried him back through the empty gym toward the coach’s office. To get there he had to pass through a long hall lined with glass cases, which were filled with trophies and team photos dating back to 1953, the year Cedar Creek High opened its doors.
A stack of game footage waited for him on his desk, and he wanted to study the Amarillo offense a few more times before tomorrow night’s game. If the Sandies had a weakness, it was their running game.
As Zach stepped into the hall, his gaze landed on Adele and Cindy Ann, the only other people around. He paused for several seconds before continuing toward them.
“That was the one and only year I was in flag corps,” Adele said, pointing to an old photo and plaque behind the glass. “My dad told me I looked like one of the soldiers from The Wizard of Oz.”
“I was in gymnastics most of my life,” Cindy Ann said, and glanced up at the sound of Zach’s bootheels on the linoleum. “Hey, Zach.”
“Cindy Ann.” Zach looked into Adele’s eyes. Those captivating eyes that sometimes turned a deeper blue. “Hello, Adele.”
“Zach.”
“Weren’t the Stallionettes great tonight?” Cindy Ann asked.
At the moment, he couldn’t recall. “They danced their little hearts out.”
Cindy Ann turned to Adele. “Well, I’ll let you go so you can get to work.” She adjusted an armadillo bag hanging off one shoulder. “And remember, if you ever decide to write more books about the Brannigan fairies, I’d love to read them.”
“I’ll think about it. Thanks for taking Kendra home.”
“You’re welcome.” She walked toward the door, and said over her shoulder, “Bye, Zach.”
“See ya.” He lowered his gaze from Adele’s face, down her throat and the round swells of her breasts beneath her thin sweater to the lower right side of her belly. “Are you still into fairies?”
“Not so much these days.” She moved to step around him, but his hand on her arm stopped her.
“That’s too bad,” he said, and looked back up into her face. With no more than the touch of her arm beneath his hand, a hot ball of lust hit him behind the button fly of his jeans. “I have a few fond memories of kissing that fairy you have tattooed just above your panties.”
Her lips parted and color rose up her cheeks. “That was a long time ago.”
“You keep saying that.”
“It’s true.”
“True but memorable. Right up there with winning the Super Bowl. Or throwing that fifty-yarder to DaShaun Wilson in the last three seconds of the game against Chicago. And, honey, that was the perfect spiral. ESPN still shows that clip.” If they’d been somewhere more private, he would have given serious thought to falling to his knees and getting reacquainted with her fairy, but she was right. It had been a long time ago. Several lifetimes, and he looked into her face, seeing the resemblance to the girl he’d once known and the differences, too. Her mouth was a little wider and her lips softer than he remembered. Her pale skin was still smooth and her hair wild, even when she tried to tame it. Her eyes were the same. The same blue that did things to his insides when she looked at him.
“Joe tells me you have a date.” Zach couldn’t recall ever feeling so possessive before. Not over a woman. Any woman.
“That’s right.”
“First the redhead, and now Joe.” He moved his hand up her arm and shoulder to the side of her neck. Beneath his thumb, he felt the quickening beat of her pulse. “Why?”
“They must think I’m nice and want to spend time with me.”
They didn’t think she was nice. They thought she was hot, and the time they wanted to spend with her was in bed. Maybe he was projecting his own wants, but he didn’t think he was alone. “I know why they ask you out. I’m not so clear on why you say yes.”
Her brows lowered as if he was crazy. He felt crazy. “Why wouldn’t I say yes?”
“Because you don’t really want to be with them, Adele.” There were a million reasons, all of them good, why he shouldn’t want Adele Harris again. At the moment, none of them mattered. He didn’t give a rat’s ass as his hands
