Holding Out for a Hero (10 page)

“Yes. I am.” She looked out the window and watched the scenery whiz by.

“Hey,” she said a few minutes later as Simon drove in the opposite direction to the football field the Hanniford Demons were scheduled to play at today. “Wrong way.”

“Thought I’d swing by your place and pick up the mascot.”

“Mascot?”

Simon nodded. “A footy team needs a mascot. A symbol of their potency. A representation of their strength. Something to strike fear into the hearts of their opponents.”

Rosie shook her head—private school boys! “And that’s at my place?”

Simon nodded again. “Cerberus.”

“Cerberus?” Rosie paused for a second. “I hate to break this to you, but he’s hardly a spritely specimen of canine virility. He’s old and suffers from an abandonment complex.”

Simon smiled at her. “He’s Cerberus, the hound from hell. They’re the Hanniford Demons.” He shrugged. “It’s symbolic. Besides, won’t Daisy and Iris want to come?”

Rosie blinked at the tears that sprang like a flash flood to her eyes. God, this man was so sweet and, suddenly, as she looked at him she could hear the “Wedding March” in her head. But he didn’t get the whole home and hearth thing and as much as they were having fun, she
so
wasn’t his type. She wasn’t a Penelope. She tried to channel Ella and lectured herself about the perils of falling too hard, too early, but it was no use. It was already too late. Maybe she could learn to be a Penelope?

*

Ella was so nervous she couldn’t decide whether she was going to throw up or have a full-blown panic attack. From her vantage point in the opposition stands, she watched Jake and Pete talking, or rather strategizing, if their hand gestures were remotely indicative.

Jake wore a baseball cap tugged low on his forehead and a pair of dark sunglasses but still she could see people nudging each other and pointing at him. Although that may not have anything to do with who he was and everything to do with how he looked and the fact that eighty-five percent of the spectators were women. And not just any women, but mothers. Ella had seen enough of them over the years to recognize that if any one group of women could use a bit of gratuitous eye candy from time to time, it was mothers.

And Jake certainly didn’t disappoint. The man was simply mouthwatering in his jeans and snug-fitting tee. He was like the Lindt chocolate of eye candy. The Ferrero Rocher. The Tim Tam. Ella could practically feel the fat cells on her ass multiplying as her mouth watered. She dragged her gaze away, focusing instead on the boys warming up on the sidelines, searching for Cameron. He was standing on one leg, stretching the other up behind, staring at the ground in fierce concentration.

The panic returned. Yes, they needed this win for the school but Cameron needed it more.

“Don’t the boys look amazing?” Rosie said, nudging Ella’s arm.

Ella nodded. They did. They really did. In fact she and Rosie were really going to have to stop thinking of them as boys. Today they looked exactly as Jake had hoped, in the red-and-black strip he’d bought for them with Hanniford Demons emblazoned on the front. They looked mature. A force to be reckoned with.

Ella had protested his generous gesture. Not only were the jerseys new but he’d also splashed out and bought each of his players top-of-the-range boots. In fact, he’d totally kitted them out. She had no idea how much it had all cost but it didn’t look like the equipment came from the 7-11. She didn’t want to be that indebted to him—she was in deep enough. But Jake had insisted that becoming a team involved claiming and projecting an identity. Ella had been dubious but damn if those boys—young men—weren’t all standing a foot higher. They certainly looked the part next to the opposing team, who oozed confidence.

The Bribie Bullets had been in the comp for twenty years and were looking at the Demons like they were mere bugs on the footpath. Their football field was immaculate, decked out in yellow and blue flags, making Hanniford’s oval looked like a mosh pit the morning after a rock concert by comparison.

Jake called the Demons together and Ella watched as they formed an eager huddle. Jake had well and truly made up for his tardy start. He only had to say jump and the boys wanted to know how high.

“This is your cue,” Rosie urged. “Go down and give your team a pep talk.”

“They’re not my team,” Ella murmured as she watched Jake geeing them up. What could she possibly offer?

Rosie placed a firm hand against Ella’s fidgeting ones and looked her straight in the eye. “You’re their principal. They’re going to shut this school down. They’re the only team you’ve got, babe.”

Ella looked at her friend and then at Simon. He nodded and gave her an encouraging smile. “What do I say?” She didn’t have a clue what all this secret men’s business stuff was about. What did seventeen boys revved up on nerves and testosterone expect their headmistress to say to them? She’d spent the last two years trying to figure out teenage boy speak to no avail. She hated to admit it, but she just didn’t get them.

Simon shrugged. “Tell them they’ll get detention for a week if they don’t win.”

Rosie dug him in the ribs. “Not helping, Simon.”

Simon half laughed as he rubbed at Rosie’s point of contact. “Tell them to listen to Jake.”

Ella nodded. That sounded like very good advice to her. She stood and made her way down through the almost empty stand, ignoring the stab of disappointment she felt at the lack of Hanniford supporters. She knew the school wasn’t known for its community spirit and this away game was quite a distance from home, but she had hoped. So much was riding on today. Maybe a big show of support would make a difference?

Ella caught the odd word of Jake’s speech as she approached. She didn’t understand any of it but Jake seemed to know what he was doing and Pete and the team were nodding. She stood quietly, waiting for him to finish, feeling every inch the uptight school marm intruding on a male bonding ritual. Would they start picking nits off each other soon?

Jake finished his pep talk and looked up. Ella was nearby shifting from foot to foot, looking great in jeans and a T-shirt, her hair loose and had she been smiling, she would have been totally bootylicious. But instead she was looking at him like she was about to face a root canal.

He noticed Miranda leaving Trish’s side and coming down the stands toward them too. The irony wasn’t lost on him. These were the stakes.

Two unrelated females who had his nuts in a vice.

“Ella?”

She cleared her throat. “I was wondering if I could just talk to the team for a moment?”

Jake frowned at her and for a second she thought he might refuse her. What the hell? What did he think she was going to say? “Have you washed behind your ears and put some sunscreen on?” He gestured her forward and she fell in beside him.

Jake turned away from the team slightly and dropped his head so his mouth was close to her ear. “They’re nervous,” he murmured. “Keep it light.”

Ella shivered as the low timbre of his voice slid into all her susceptible places. She gave a small nod and he pulled away. She cleared her throat. “Well, guys, this is not something I know a lot about but I just wanted to say that I’m proud of you.” She caught Cameron’s gaze and held it. “Very proud.” He looked nervous and she wanted to reach out and give him a reassuring squeeze. For a second she cursed Rachel for keeping them apart for thirteen years. She’d wished she’d known him as a baby, bonded with him. Surely things would be easier now?

“So, um … I don’t know.” She turned to Jake. “Do you say break a leg or something?”

Pete slapped his forehead in the background and Jake shut his eyes and shook his head. “No, Ella, not under any circumstances.”

The whistle blew and Ella was grateful for the interruption to her completely botched debut pep talk as thirteen boys stormed past her in a cloud of testosterone.

She noticed Cerberus watching attentively from the sidelines and called his name. He wandered closer and she sat on the low wooden bench behind her, reaching out to stroke the dog’s soft ears. Cerberus, hound of hell, whimpered in ecstasy.

Play started and after a few minutes, Jake joined her on the bench. “I’m sorry,” she said. “About the breaking a leg thing.”

Jake, his gaze intent on the game, answered with a terse, “It’s fine.”

Except he seemed really pissed at her. “I just wanted to be … succinct and you know I don’t know one end of the football from the other. I mean I know you guys like to pat each other on the bum—”

Jake snorted trying to watch the game and pretend he was listening to her at the same time. “That’s cricket.”

“Well, you hug then, a lot—”

He frowned as one of the Demons fumbled a pass. “Only when we score a try.”

“Right.” Ella nodded, faintly amused amid her consternation that Jake felt the need to clarify the physical contact. “But it’s hardly appropriate for me to do that, is it? I’m their principal. There are boundaries. I want them to know I support them and God knows Cameron probably need this more than most and I’m going to really try hard but—”

“Ella,” Jake interrupted, dragging his gaze off the field. “Must you talk?”

Ella glared at him, already bamboozled and bored by the game and so nervous she was contemplating hitting the toilets and going for the forced vomit to get it over with.

“What? Can’t do two things at once?” she cooed.

Jake shot her a lazy smile. “I think we both know that’s not true.” He’d multi-tasked his ass off two years ago. 

Ella blushed. She’d so picked the wrong man for that quip. “Sex doesn’t count.”

“Sex always counts.”

They stared at each other for a moment. “Don’t you have a game to be watching?”

“Are you going to let me?”

She held his intense gaze for as long as she could, wondering if he was thinking the same X-rated things as her, then she focused on the field. “I won’t say another word.”

Jake nodded and turned his attention back to the field. The Demons were going to get hammered and he felt like he was watching a bunch of lambs going to the slaughter. His competitive streak was burning a fiery path through his veins and he realised suddenly he wanted to win. Not just for Hanniford High or for Ella or Miranda but for him, Jake Prince, washed up ex-footy star.

He could feel the nervous energy radiating off Ella and it was distracting as hell. “Are you okay?” he asked impatiently.

Ella shook her head. “I’m so edgy I could puke.”

“Don’t be. This is in the bag,” he said and smiled at her.

Ella believed him. She looked down at the four reserves sitting at the end of the bench and noticed that Cam was among them. Miranda was sitting beside him and they seemed to be involved in the same sort of conversation she and Jake had just had: Miranda was talking, Cam was watching the field intently, nodding occasionally.

For the next forty minutes, Ella sat on the edge of her seat. Rosie and Simon had joined her and she clung to Rosie’s hand like the lifeline it had always been. Occasionally Jake would sit beside her and explain things but more often than not he was wearing a path in the sideline, yelling encouragement and direction.

Pete also trekked endlessly up and down the sidelines, video camera in hand. Jake explained that he’d use it to review the team’s performance during the week. Cerberus shadowed Pete’s every move, barking when things got exciting, whining when Jake’s cursing got particularly animated, and taking shameless advantage of spectators, who threw the mangy-looking hellhound their hot dog leftovers.

Every successful kick or pass from the Bullets earned a massive roar from their supporters and triggered a peppy routine from their cheer squad. The squad was irritatingly perfect, with big plastic smiles, short blue skirts and tight yellow tees encasing their perky chests. Blond and bouncy, all twenty of them.

“Jeez, I didn’t realize public high school science budgets ran into the millions,” she murmured to Jake at one stage.

Jake frowned. “Huh?”

Ella nodded in the direction of the cheer squad. “Some genius at Bribie has managed to clone Barbie.”

Jake laughed. “You don’t approve of cheerleaders?”

Ella shot him a disgusted look. “Emmeline Pankhurst would be rolling in her grave.”

Jake laughed again. Then the Bullets made a break for their try line and he was running up the sideline, calling to his team strategizing on his feet.

At the half-time hooter, Bribie had them by eighteen points. Ella watched with trepidation as the Demons walked off the field, all red-faced and sweaty, their shoulders slumped. Cameron didn’t even look at her and Ella felt his dismay arrow straight through her soul. She sat on the bench, powerless, wanting to build the team up but not having a clue how to go about it. Luckily Jake seemed to know. He talked non-stop in the ten-minute break. Pete saw the team fed and watered while Jake talked: reviving their spirit, praising them, encouraging them. Reiterating their goals, focusing them on the next forty minutes. By the time the Demons ran back onto the field they were standing tall again.

And Ella was officially turned on. Jake had been magnificent. He’d been articulate and passionate, his belief in his team and his passion for the game blazing from his eyes. He’d been eloquent and animated and in those jeans, it was a potent combination.

The whistle blew and she dragged her attention away from Jake and forced herself to concentrate on the game. What an amazing forty minutes it was as the rejuvenated Demons clawed back control. She could barely watch as two minutes out, the Demons leveled the score. And then ten seconds before the final hooter, Cameron kicked a field goal.

The Hanniford supporters may have been paltry in comparison to the home team but when they rose to their feet in wild jubilation, they made just as much noise. Ella, who’d sat with her hands over her eyes for the last minute, stood too. Had they won? It certainly looked like they had from all the clapping, cheering and stomping that was filling her ears.

“How much is a field goal worth?” Ella grabbed an ecstatic Pete as he charged by, arms waving in the air.

Pete laughed. “One point.”