Skin in the Game (10 page)

Cade decided to let that pass. “You must know you have a clear case against him for sexual harassment. Why haven’t you complained?”

She whirled to face him, her eyes glittering like shards of blue glass. “And what do you think would come of that?”

“He’d get fired, I presume.”

Her laugh was hollow and bitter. “You celebrity types really don’t live in the real world, do you?” She folded her arms under her breasts and Cade’s mouth watered as he involuntarily recalled touching them, licking them, nibbling at her nipples. “I’ll tell you exactly what would happen if I complained. Donnelly would be called before a disciplinary hearing, but he’s a tenured teacher protected by something called a contract and a union—you might know a little about those, since I think NFL players have them, too. And if you know anything about unions, then you know what’ll happen is he’ll get a slap on the wrist and a warning to never do it again.

Which, I’m sure, would be very effective.

“Meanwhile, I would get a reputation as a whiner who can’t get along with male coworkers. Because, after all, boys will be boys, and we can’t really hold a little good-natured teasing against a guy, can we?”

“Donnelly wasn’t teasing you, and we both know it.”

Angie let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, I want to be head coach of this team when Harvey retires. I’m sure you think that’s crazy—most everyone else seems to—but I love working with these kids and I know I can do the job. But I won’t be able to do the job if the men I have to supervise think I’ll go running to the disciplinary committee every time one of them looks at me sideways. And believe me, that’s exactly what they’ll think. So even if my complaint did get Donnelly fired, I wouldn’t be any better off because there’d just be more where that came from. Eventually, the school board would decide I can’t be head coach of the Eagles, not because I don’t know how to handle the team, but because I can’t handle the staff.”

Damn. Cade had to admit that her analysis was probably rock-solid. Still… “So why doesn’t Harvey report the harassment? You can’t tell me he hasn’t seen it.” It’s the whole reason he wanted me here.

“If he reports it, then it looks like he’s playing favorites and trying to get Donnelly in trouble because I’m his wunderkind…or worse.” She twisted her mouth in disgust, and Cade knew she was thinking about the insinuation that she’d slept her way into her current position.

“Besides, I’d still have to testify against them before the disciplinary committee, so one way or another, I’m still the crybaby who can dish it out but can’t take it. I need to prove I can handle this—them—and win football games without running to Mommy whenever things don’t go my way.”

Cade nodded. He was beginning to see the picture a whole lot more clearly. He was also beginning to understand why she resented his presence so much. It didn’t matter why Harvey had asked Cade to take over as acting head coach; whatever the reason, it represented a vote of no-confidence in her ability to handle the job. Cade could tell her the truth, but it wouldn’t make things better. She wouldn’t be any more amenable to letting him help her deal with the problem than before because she didn’t want help. She didn’t think she needed help.

But she did. Not because she was incompetent or weak, but because neither she nor Harvey could confront the problem of Donnelly without consequences.

The only person who could was…him.

“So,” she said, turning her back to him and shuffling through the items piled up on her desk, “what did you want to talk to me about?”

Cade closed his eyes and tried to ignore the pulsating lust in his loins at the sight of her curvaceous backside and long legs as she leaned over. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman this badly, and he was simultaneously furious with Coach for putting him in the middle of this train wreck and grateful that he had something worthwhile to do with his time. It dawned on him that what had been missing these past months he’d been out of commission was a sense of purpose, and he had Harvey to thank for giving him one.

Gritting his teeth, Cade lied through them. “I want to review the playbook. See what adjustments need to be made.”

She straightened and spun back around. “What? No adjustments need to be made. Harvey okayed the playbook weeks ago.”

“I’m not Harvey. Just because he was satisfied doesn’t mean I will be.”

Angie stared at him for several seconds, and he could see she was trying to decide whether she could reasonably refuse. He wished he had another option, but he had to let her believe he wanted to wrest control of the team from her hands. The angrier she was with him, the more likely Donnelly was to believe he had a sympathetic ear in Cade. And the more sympathetic he believed Cade to be, the likelier he would be to say or do something publicly that would be impossible to deny or dismiss.

“Are you sure Harvey wants you messing with the playbook?” she asked at last. “You’re only going to be here a few weeks.”

“If I can make it better, does it matter how long I’m here?”

Her jaw set. “You can’t make it better.”

He arched an eyebrow. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“Maybe it is.” Her chin jutted out a little farther, and her eyes sparked hot blue.

Cade wanted to push her back against the desk and kiss her. Instead, he said, “Then I’ll take it. Give me the playbook to review this weekend. If I can’t find a way to make at least one play better, I’ll hand in my resignation.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “What do you mean, better?”

Well, she had him there. Better was a subjective term but in football, there were so many variables that nailing down an objective measurement for improvement on a single play was virtually impossible.

“How about we ask the players? Do they think the play worked better before or after my changes?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know. How do I know they won’t pick you just because they idolize you?”

Cade shrugged. “How do I know they won’t pick you just because they all have a raging crush on you?”

“They do not.”

At that rapid and vehement denial, he had to chuckle. He took two steps, easily closing the five foot gap between them. She gasped and scrambled backward, but bumped immediately into the desk.

“Baby,” he murmured, leaning in closer, “every one of those boys would stick a knife in my back in a heartbeat to protect you from me. Especially if they knew I’ve had you naked and sweet and moaning with pleasure.” He could see her pulse racing in her throat and hear the faint hitch in her breath. She might be angry with him, but she still wanted him as much as he wanted her. Which was a hell of a lot.

Her head shook in denial. “That’s not true.”

“What’s not true?” He couldn’t resist leaning just a little closer, his mouth almost grazing her ear. The scent of her hair—clean and lemony—was enough to make him dizzy with lust.

“That you were naked and sweet and moaning with pleasure?”

“Yes. I mean no.” She pressed her palms against his chest and pushed him away. “You’re confusing me on purpose. They don’t think of me that way. I’m a teacher and a coach.”

“And gorgeous,” Cade said evenly. “They’d have to be either dead or blind, and I’ve yet to meet a dead or blind football player. But then, they can’t help it. They’re teenage boys. I was one once, too, and I can guarantee if I’d had a teacher or coach who looked like you, I’d have wanted to be her knight in shining armor and slay every dragon in the world for her.”

Her cheeks were a hot shade of pink, although whether from embarrassment or desire or a little bit of both he couldn’t be sure. She pressed her hands over her ears. “Stop it. Even if it’s true, it’s not something I need—or want—to know.”

“Fair enough. But you have to agree, those boys have as much reason to back you as they do to back me. Which means that it’s fair to put the question to them and let them decide. If you really believe nothing can be done to improve your playbook, you have nothing to worry about.”

She studied him for several long seconds before nodding slowly. “All right, I agree. But if you win, you have to promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“That you’ll never, ever remind me about the inner workings of teenage boys’ brains.

Because frankly, that’s just T-M-I.”

Cade laughed out loud and prayed that he could find something to improve at least one of the plays in her playbook. Because if she was really that good, his plan to get Donnelly to reveal his true colors was in a world of hurt.

Angie closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the cool metal panel of the school bus, waiting for the boys to finish changing before the ride back to Harper Falls. The Eagles had won the game and that was all that really mattered, right? Never mind that Cade had been the center of attention from the moment he strolled onto the field until the moment he left it—if he’d left it yet. For all she knew, he was still up there signing autographs, getting his picture taken with the legions of fans, doing interviews with the local TV station.

Taking the credit for tonight’s win, no doubt.

Angie grimaced. She’d never seen so many people at a high school football game in her life. The stands on both sides of the field had been crammed with bodies, most of them dressed not in the colors of the Eagles or of the opposing team, but in Houston Texans jerseys, a sizable proportion of which were emblazoned with Cade’s name and number. They’d all come to see him, to bask in his glow.

Maybe it wasn’t logical and maybe it wasn’t charitable, but she hated his celebrity and the ease with which he wielded it even more than she hated him for anything he’d actually done.

She and her players had worked their asses off to get ready for this game—and every one they’d won since the season began three weeks ago—but no one seemed to notice their efforts. By contrast, all Cade had to do to be a hero was stand on the sidelines and look important.

And hot.

Angie rolled her eyes mentally, wishing her subconscious would shut the hell up. Ever since he’d cornered her against the desk in her office yesterday and almost kissed her, she’d felt edgy and unsatisfied. She’d wanted him to kiss her. Wanted him to do a lot more than kiss her, really, with a fierceness that frightened her. And she hated herself for that even more than she hated him.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

Angie’s stomach collided with her heart at the sound of Cade’s husky voice near her ear.

She opened her eyes and turned her head to find him leaning against the yellow school bus beside her, his right arm mere inches from her left.

How had he managed to sneak up on her like that? Her body seemed to have radar when it came to him—she could normally sense his presence when he was within a football field’s distance, let alone a matter of inches. Why had that sixth sense chosen this particular moment to desert her?

Her pulse beat thick and heavy in her throat and between her thighs, but she somehow managed to keep her wits—and her resentments—about her. “I’m sure you can afford to pay more than that. And shouldn’t you still be up there on the field, attending to your adoring public?”

He grinned and shook his head. “Not when I have a shot at being adored in private.”

Angie’s midsection went molten and dangerous with temptation. Maybe she should stop resisting the attraction between them. Maybe if she had sex with him a few more times, she could work him out of her system.

Except she knew the only thing that came from feeding an addiction was an even deeper addiction.

“If that’s what you wanted, you should be with that reporter from WSNP,” she said caustically. “She looked like she’d have been more than happy to do some in-depth research on you.”

The busty, saucer-eyed brunette from Channel 12 News had always struck Angie as a bit of a bimbo, and the way the woman had slavered over Cade both before and after the game had only added to Angie’s disaffection.

“Too bad she’s not my type.”

Angie arched an eyebrow. She’d seen the tabloid photos. His only requirements appeared to be female and beautiful. “Since when do you have a type?”

“Since you,” he said softly.

Oh, he was smooth. She had to give him that. But she wasn’t falling for it. Not this time.

Although knowing it was just a line didn’t keep her knees from wobbling or her stomach from fluttering.

“Nice try, but it won’t work.”

“What won’t work?” he asked, all innocence.

Angie rolled her eyes for real now. “Trying to flatter me into letting you out of our bargain.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“What else could you be doing? You must know you’re going to lose.”

He pushed away from the side of the bus and turned to face her, trapping her between his long, muscular frame and the unyielding metal object behind her. He rested his palms on either side of her shoulders, his body mere inches from hers.

“Maybe I’m just being honest. You might consider doing the same.”

“You want honesty?”

He nodded, his face dark and unreadable in the faint yellow glow of the light from the lamppost behind him.

“Fine. I hate you. How’s that?”

He shrugged. “They say there’s a thin line between love and hate, so I’ll take it.” He leaned in a little closer, his heat and spicy masculine scent invading her senses. “Here’s some more honesty for you. I want you so much, I ache with it. I’ve jacked off every night for the last week remembering how it felt to be inside you. I’m hard right now, just standing here with you.”

Oh God. Angie was glad to have the solid mass of the school bus behind her to keep her upright because his words were more painfully erotic than any touch could have been. Her mouth went dry, her sex damp, and her nipples taut as lurid images crashed through her mind, but most especially and explicitly one of him lying naked in the center of his bed, his palm fisting his incredibly thick, gorgeous cock. Despite her best intentions, she glanced down at his crotch. The unmistakable ridge beneath the fly of his jeans said he wasn’t exaggerating; he really was hard.

For me.

“And if I thought it would mean I could make love to you again,” he went on, his voice low and ragged, “I’d drive over to Harvey’s right now and hand in my resignation.”