Going Cowboy Crazy (23 page)

He glanced back at her. “And what if I do? It’s not going to do me any good. Not when the entire town has her convinced that Hope and I are lifelong sweethearts.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Damn, the woman was annoying.

But no more annoying than the punk kid who took Faith’s hand and walked her right out the gymnasium doors. Slate might’ve charged after them if Shirlene hadn’t stopped him.

“Don’t go running off half-cocked, Slate. They’re probably just getting a breath of fresh air.” She hooked her arm through his. “Come on. Let’s see if you’ve gotten any better since the last time I danced with you.”

Slate hadn’t. He wasn’t a good dancer to begin with, and with his gaze riveted on the doors, he was downright pathetic. Smashed toes might’ve gotten rid of Shirlene, but it didn’t deter the herd of females that lined up to take her place. His patience lasted for all of three songs, before he detangled himself from Cindy Lynn’s arms and headed for the door.

Although he should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy to escape.

“What’s your hurry, Slate?” Harley came huffing after him. “Me and the boys wanted to go over a few things with you. We were thinkin’ that if you would’ve used Buford Cummins on the defensive line, we could’ve stopped those last few touchdowns.”

Slate didn’t even slow down. “Buford graduated last year, Harley.”

“He did? Are you sure?” He shook his head. “Funny, I thought he was just a junior last year.”

“Nope,” Slate stated as he walked out the gymnasium doors.

Once outside, he checked every dark corner he came to. But instead of finding Faith and Austin, he startled two teachers who were married—just not to each other. After mumbling a lame apology, he headed for his truck. What was he doing? Faith wasn’t about to do anything with Austin. The kid was barely out of diapers. Which probably explained why they had left so early. Austin had a curfew. It seemed like a logical explanation. At least it did until Slate walked past the stadium and heard Faith’s laughter.

The gates were locked so he walked around to the side fence and ducked through the hole that had been there since he’d gone to school. On the way through, one of the broken chain links caught on his dress pants and ripped a good-sized hole in the leg. But he could’ve cared less when another peal of laughter rang out.

By the time he jogged up the ramp and rounded the corner of the stands, he was pissed, although his anger dwindled quickly enough. The stadium was dark, but not so dark that he couldn’t make out the lone figure sitting in the front row of the stands watching the kid on the field. A kid who stretched up for an imaginary pass, then ran through the opposite end zone for a touchdown.

Faith clapped and yelled her approval. And if that wasn’t enough, she jumped up and started a cheer.

“Said the little chicken to the great big hen. We ain’t been beat since we don’t know when. So ruffle up your feathers and stick out your tail.” At this point, she stuck out her little tush. “ ’Cause we’re gonna beat your team to—rickety, rackety, russ, we ain’t allowed to cuss, but
I confess that Austin’s the best so… yaaaaay!…” She waved her fists like pom-poms. “Us!”

“Yay us?” Slate walked up.

Startled, she stumbled in her heels and sat down hard on the bench, placing a hand on the deep V-neck of the dress. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He flopped down a few feet away. “So where were you a cheerleader, Us High?”

“No.” She smoothed the hem of her dress, that had hiked up to display a tantalizing amount of thigh. “I wasn’t a cheerleader.”

“No kidding?” He couldn’t help the grin.

Instead of replying, she looked back out at the field.

Slate inched down the bleacher. “I take it that young kid who is now doing backflips in the end zone is your date?”

The stubborn chin came up. “As matter of fact, he is.”

“Going for the younger men, I take it?”

“They have less baggage.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I could see that. They also have less facial hair.”

Faith sent him a very sassy look. “Which is nice. Facial hair can get a little scratchy.”

“Funny, you never complained.”

Those wide blue eyes blinked before she turned away. A stiff wind whipped the short strands of her hair, and she rubbed at her bare arms. With October just around the corner, the night was colder than it had been in a while.

Slate shrugged out of his jacket and held it out. “Here.” When she only stared at it, he added, “It doesn’t bite.” He glanced back at the kid, who was now showing off his
skills at climbing the goalpost. “And it doesn’t look like you’re going to get another offer.”

“Fine.” She went to grab the coat, but he refused to let go, holding it until she slipped her arms in.

When it was on, he reached out and pulled the lapels closed, the backs of his fingers brushing the bare skin just below her throat. She shivered, and her gaze snapped up to his. If her eyes hadn’t been so wary, he might’ve kissed her. Instead, he released the jacket and leaned his elbows on the bleacher behind them, trying to act like his heart hadn’t kicked into overdrive.

“So how did you meet Austin?” he asked.

“I almost ran him over with your—Bubba’s truck.”

He turned to her. “I take it you’re serious.”

“Very. Thank God the kid is agile and fast.” She looked over at him. “You should let him back on the team.”

“That’s what I hear.”

“Shirlene?”

“Yeah, she gave me an earful.” He groaned. “Along with everyone else in town.”

“I guess they’re upset about losing the game.” When he nodded, she continued. “Austin thinks Jared sucks.”

“Right.” Slate sat back up and ran a hand over his face.

“So are you going to give him a chance to apologize?”

“Sort of like you gave me?” He was getting grumpy again, but he couldn’t seem to help it around the woman.

“I gave you a chance.”

“You call that a chance?” He turned and stared at her. Faith shrugged, which really pissed him off. “Fine. I’ll tell you what. You let me explain things to you—and I’m not talking about a few words in a bathroom with people banging on the door. I’m talking about a private
conversation where you really listen to what I have to say—and I’ll listen to what Austin has to say and consider giving him another chance.”

Clutching the edges of the jacket, she swiveled around on the bench and glared at him. “That’s blackmail.”

He shrugged just as nonchalantly as she had. “Call it what you want; that’s the deal.”

“Hey, Faith.” Austin was standing on the goalpost. “Watch this!”

The boy sat down on the crossbar, then flipped back and dropped to the ground on his feet. The sheer delight the kid took in showing off made Slate smile. At one time, he’d done the same thing—climbed the goalpost and cherry-dropped off the crossbar to Hope’s cheers. The innocence of the moment almost made him like the kid.

Almost.

Faith clapped her approval before she turned to Slate. “Fine. But you don’t consider taking him back—he’s on the team.”

“All right. But that doesn’t mean I’ll play him.”

She hesitated. “But if he’s good, you will?”

He heaved a sigh and stood up. “If he’s good.” He was willing to do anything to save himself from a repeat of the previous football massacre.

“And no touching,” she added.

“Austin?”

She didn’t laugh. “Me.”

It would be hard, but she was probably right. Touching her screwed with his mind. Besides, this need he had to set things straight had never been about sex. It was about not wanting their relationship to end on a sour note when it had started on such a sweet one.

He stuck out a hand. “Deal.”

She slipped a hand from the jacket. It was cold and dainty and made his heart rate increase even more. He might’ve held it for a bit too long and too tightly, since she had to use force to get it back. Still, he stood there staring down at her until she lifted her eyebrows.

“So are you going to talk to him?”

“Who?”

She looked confused. “Austin.”

He mentally slugged himself. “Of course I’m going to talk with Austin.” He pointed a finger at her. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

Feeling better than he had all week, Slate took the stairs down to the field two at a time and caught Austin before he reached the fifty-yard line. Even in the dark, it was easy to recognize his shock.

“Coach?” The dress shoes slipped out of his hands, but by the time he grabbed them back up, the surprise in his voice was gone. “So I guess I’m in trouble for breaking into the stadium.”

“There is a rule—”

“So what are you going to do, kick me out of school?”

At the kid’s belligerent tone, anger pushed up from deep inside of Slate, reminding him of the reason he’d given Austin the boot in the first place. The sullen kid was like a burr under a saddle, and Slate was the horse’s ass. But if he wanted a chance to clear things up with Faith, he’d have to deal with the annoyance.

“I
could
get you kicked out of school, at least for a few days. But since it doesn’t look like you were doing any harm, I’m willing to let it go.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Slate tried to unclench his jaw. “So I heard you might want to come back on the team.”

“I never quit.”

“Right. You were just the one who complained nonstop about the rules.”

“Because some of your rules suck.”

There wasn’t much to say to that. Slate thought some of the rules sucked, too. They were antiquated, but they’d gotten the team ten state championships, and Slate wasn’t willing to mess with something that worked. Although it hadn’t been working lately. Still, if the kid couldn’t follow the rules—Faith or no Faith—Slate couldn’t let him back on the team.

“All right then, if that’s the way you feel.” He turned to leave, but Austin stopped him.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t follow the rules. I just said they sucked.”

He turned back around. “So are you telling me you want to give it another shot?”

Austin relaxed his stance. “Will you play me?”

“If you work hard and prove yourself, yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll give it a shot.”

Slate released his breath and held out his hand.

Austin looked at Slate’s hand for a few seconds before he gave it a firm shake. “So I guess I’ll see you on Monday.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Tomorrow morning.” Slate pointed down. “Here. With me. You have some work to do.”

“But I thought the offensive coach is the only one who works with quarterbacks.”

That was true, but Slate wasn’t going to split hairs. “What? You think I don’t know my stuff?”

“No. It’s just that I’ve never seen you work with anybody before.”

His answer completely blindsided Slate. Of course he worked with his players. He might not spend a lot of time with individual kids, but that was only because he was the head coach. He needed to look at the big picture—coordinate the assistant coaches, determine the game plans, and make all the major decisions.

Shit. The kid was right.

He placed his hands on his hips and stared down at the rounded toes of his dress boots. “Well, by tomorrow you’ll be sick of working with me. So go home and get some sleep. You’ll need it.”

“Okay, but first I need to take Faith home.”

Slate looked up. “I’ve got that covered.”

Austin actually laughed. “I doubt that, especially with the way she feels about you.”

“And just what does that mean?”

His smile flashed in the moonlight. “Faith doesn’t like you.”

Talk about losing his temper. He had the urge to start the kid’s lessons right then. Starting with a full-body tackle.

“I’m taking her home,” Slate ground out between his teeth.

“We’ll see.” Austin turned and ambled toward the stands.

Slate tried to remember to breathe as he watched him walk away. Maybe meeting him tomorrow morning wasn’t the best idea. If he felt like whupping his ass after
only five minutes, what would he feel like after a couple hours? Still, there was a tiny part of him that admired the kid’s tenacity. For being a sophomore and a newcomer, he didn’t back down. And while that rubbed Slate the wrong way, it was a quality that might just lead a team to victory.

If Slate didn’t kill him first.

T
HE SEDATE BURGUNDY
Y
UKON WAS NOTHING LIKE
Bubba’s big redneck truck. There were no flapping flags or bumper stickers, no football helmets or peeing little boys, no gun rack and no long bench seat that was perfect for kissing cocky cowboys.

Faith missed the stupid truck.

She glanced over at the man who sat in the gray leather seat next to her dressed in a button-up blue dress shirt and charcoal pants—but it was a testament to her insanity that she missed the cocky cowboy even more.