Win Me Over (11 page)

She started to go through the motions as he watched. “I'll do it again; watch me.”

“I haven't quit watching.” His words were clipped. She stopped and looked at him.

Her eyes softened and she blew out a breath. “Okay, listen. Let's try a different approach. I should have warmed you up first.”

*   *   *

That sounded like a bad idea,
Bennett thought to himself as Callie circled him. He'd done okay on the first part. He'd actually spent an hour before she got there practicing on his own and he was already sore. And frustrated.

When she finally stood facing him once more, she lifted his left hand and slipped her right one into it, grasping firmly. Holding their joined hands out to the side, she gently laid her left hand on his shoulder. “Now grasp my waist, ballroom-style.”

He hesitantly did what he assumed she meant. “I've never ballroom danced in my life.”

“Well, you are today.” She reached down and adjusted his hand to sit lower on her back, closer to where her body curved. She stepped into him, her head resting just under his chin.

The scent of her shampoo and the feel of her breasts pressed against him made him feel dizzy, but her nearness caused some of his tension to lessen.

She swayed back and forth for a moment and his feet shuffled along with her, trying to keep up with the rhythm. Damn, he couldn't even get this right. But it felt nice.

“I should have done this Thursday,” she said. The feel of her words rumbled against his chest. “We just need to get used to the feel of each other.”

Yeah, he wasn't sure if he agreed with that. He definitely shouldn't get used to this, because if she had any idea what he was feeling she would see the danger in what they were doing.

The music came on again and she began to count, moving from side to side, pulling him along with her. Reluctantly he tried to relax, as much as could be expected, considering their bodies rubbed together with nearly every movement.

“Sway on the down beat, the one, and then again on the four.” She dipped more dramatically from side to side to show him what she meant. This had to be as basic as dancing got, which was humiliating. He hadn't danced like this since middle school.

But he liked it, being this close. Eventually he loosened up, his arms relaxing, legs finding the rhythm. He finally began to pull her body with his. Back and forth, back and forth. He even managed to turn them as he did so.

“Look at you,” she said. He could hear the smile in her voice, which made him smile in response. “Eventually you'll just feel the beat inside you. Do you feel it now?”

“I feel something,” he bit out.

She gasped and stared up at him, mouth hanging open. “Are you being dirty, Coach Clark?”

“Won't happen again.”

“I should hope not,” she teased. But he saw a hint of something more in her eyes. He chuckled and prayed to the Gods of Unwelcome Boners to grant him mercy as she leaned back into position and resumed counting.

The sun was low, easing into a golden dusk. Crickets and cicadas filled the trees around them, and the scent of the air was a heady mix of nature and woman.

“This isn't so bad, is it?” she asked quietly.

“No, this is pretty good.” If you didn't consider the warmth of her small hand on his shoulder, the softness of her skin where one of his fingers brushed under her hoodie, and the feel of her chest brushing his. No, it wasn't so bad. It was torture, just as he knew it would be.

 

Six

A week ago Callie would have argued any person into the ground that the best smell in the whole entire world was that of chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven.
Her
cookies if you wanted to be specific, and they smelled pretty good right now as she removed a tray from the oven and took a big whiff.

Last night, however, she'd realized there was something else that could compete for the best smell ever. Bennett Clark. After leaving his house, she'd gone to sleep with her hoodie just so she could dream with the light scent of him lingering. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, a touch of laundry detergent with an earthy aftershave chaser. But it made her think of being in his arms. Stupid, but she couldn't help it.

Practice had gone better and she'd been happy to see him loosen up a little. They'd spent some time walking around to six-eight time just so he could continue to get a feel for it. There was still a long ways to go and the hardest part was still to come, but she felt much more optimistic today and she hoped he did, too.

The best part was that last night had been fun. There was no denying the man was pure eye candy and that made things enjoyable for sure. But it was more than that, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. She was always excited to see him again and thought about him when they weren't together. She wondered what he was doing now. It was Sunday. Did he go to church? Grade papers? Watch football? Yeah, that was probably it.

Callie loaded the oven with a second batch of cookies—this time peanut butter. Did Bennett like cookies? She should take him some.

He was easy to be around, and she liked that he listened to her talk. It was her favorite thing to do and she made no apologies for it. Bennett let her, without interrupting or trying to one-up her. He didn't finish her sentences or go on and on about himself. Interesting, because of all the guys she'd dated or known, he was probably the only one who had the right to brag about himself. She sort of wished he would, because she wanted to know more.

She'd Googled him, obviously, and she didn't feel bad or stalkerish for doing so: it was a common enough thing to do these days. He'd been a Heisman candidate, drafted in the third round by Dallas straight out of college, led two games his rookie year when the starting quarterback was out injured. Basically, all info read like Bennett was on track to be a star. Except that's not what happened. She'd known that going in, obviously, since he coached high school football and taught biology, but reading it had broken her heart.

His career had ended when he'd been in a devastating accident … with a woman. That part had shocked Callie, just a little bit. The Bennett she was beginning to know appeared to be such a solitary creature, it was hard to even imagine him as a half of a duo—excluding Misha of course. The pictures told the story, though, and there were a few photos of the two of them before the accident. They were perfection. A Ken and Barbie couple. That is, if Ken was built for the gridiron and ruggedly handsome. But the woman, Ashley, she was gorgeous. Gorgeous enough to be a sports newscaster in Houston apparently.

Not that it made any difference to Callie. She wasn't looking to have a relationship with Bennett. She was just … curious.

Callie set a timer for the cookies in the oven and clipped it onto the apron around her waist before heading out front. The shop was hopping, the line at the counter six deep, with at least four more lingering around and talking. Callie grinned; this was what she loved.

Fall was a great season for Preston. There were several craft festivals and the local farmers market drew a crowd on the weekends. People just liked to day-trip when the weather was so lovely, and Preston was close enough to the Kansas City metro area to make it a great destination. Antiques, restaurants, a small winery, and great little boutique shops lined Main Street. Callie felt incredibly lucky to be a part of it.

She got to work behind the register, ringing in orders, while Eric boxed up cinnamon rolls as he laughed with a customer. Callie smiled as she gave the man his total, then went to work making change, not bothering to look up right away when the bell jingled.

“Mayday, mayday, we've got a Barbara off the port bow,” Eric whispered under his breath as he handed Callie the box of cinnamon rolls.

“Great,” she whispered under her breath. She thanked the man in front of her, handed him his change, then stepped around the counter to peek down the line.

And nearly threw up.

There near the front door, speaking to her mother, was Bennett Clark. Callie was sure she let out a whimper before returning to the next customer. She plastered her smile back on and resumed the task at hand. “Just the one pecan roll, then?”

So it went, the line maintaining its length toward the door. After a few minutes she was able to sneak a glance and found that her mother had taken a seat by the window.

And Bennett was sitting with her.

How had that happened? Neither would know who the other was. Unless Callie's mother knew who he was, but that did not seem likely. The most obvious explanation was that she had begun bragging to the nearest person within earshot that this was her daughter's business. Barbara had done it before.

Eric sidled up to Callie and whispered, “I don't want you to panic, but did you—”

“I saw it,” Callie said.

“You better get over there. She'll have him invited to Thanksgiving dinner, bridge night, and Christmas Eve church service if someone doesn't intervene.”

Callie inwardly groaned. She couldn't leave the register, but then she heard it. Her mother's laugh rang out over the small crowded room, followed by the most horrible words Callie had ever heard: “The tiara was as big as she was. I'm not even kidding.”

Callie and Eric turned to face each other at the same time, both of their eyes wide.

“Oh thank goodness,” Eric said as he glanced over Callie's shoulder.

She turned and there was Emma, right on time for her shift.

“Go. Go, go. We got this.” Eric shoved Callie out front.

She smiled at the people waiting in line as she squeezed through. “I'm so sorry; if you'll just be patient Emma will have you helped in just a moment.”

Callie walked around the line and toward the front window table. The minute she saw Bennett's face, she assumed the worst. He was laughing. Not just a chuckle, like he'd given her. No, this was an all-out that-was-funny-as-hell laugh. Whatever story of her past Barbara was retelling, Callie would probably never live it down. He grinned and then stood when he saw her walking over.

“Bennett.” She sounded breathless. “What a surprise.”

She glanced down at her mother. Massive purple and teal peacock earrings dangled from her ears. “Mom. Another surprise … yay!” There was no masking the sarcasm screaming in Callie's tone.

“I agree,” Barbara said with an unmistakable twinkle in her eye. “What a great day this is. I'm so happy I chose to stop by when I did.”

Callie didn't even know where to begin. What was her mother doing here? What was Bennett doing here? Why in the name of all that was holy did they have to show up at the same time? Callie glanced down at her timer. Two minutes. “How do you two know each other?”

“I was in line and she struck up a conversation. Told me she was your mother,” Bennett said.

Yep.
Just as Callie had assumed. It would be best to see what Bennett needed and get him out of there before Barbara could embarrass her any further. Callie had no idea why her mother was there.

“Mom, will you excuse us for a moment?”

“Actually, sweetie.” Barbara stood “If you're busy I'll be on my way. I just came by to bring you these for the girls.”

Barbara never made it quick, so her offering to shoo caught Callie by surprise. Something was up. Barbara handed Callie a reusable grocery bag, and when she peeked inside Callie nearly gasped. “Oh, Mom, these are wonderful.”

Callie pulled an item from the bag. Her mother had crafted all the girls matching blue and white hair bows. One ribbon end said “Panthers”. The other had each girl's name. It was so thoughtful and so … perfect.

“The secretary at the school was very sweet when I went in there and told her who I was. She wrote down everyone on the team's first name for me.”

“They're great, Mom. The girls will love them for game days,” Callie said. And she meant it: the bows were perfect and she was already imagining how the team would look in them.

“What do you think, Coach Clark?” Barbara held one in front of him for inspection.

“Well, I'm not really the one to ask about bows, but I sure do appreciate the Preston pride it represents.”

That was good enough for Barbara; she absolutely beamed. “Can't get a better endorsement than from the football coach himself, can you? So, are you two
friends
? Is that why you were here, Coach Clark?”

Guilt bubbled in Callie's stomach. Her mother would just die if she found out about the dance competition from someone else. Callie recalled the mani incident from a few weeks ago. As if on cue, Callie's timer went off. “Oh shoot, sorry, Mom—”

“I'm going, I'm going,” Barbara said as she headed for the door.

“No, wait. You can't go. We need to tell you something.”

Barbara's eyes went wide, darting between Callie and Bennett. “Well, of course.”

Callie led Bennett and her mother toward the kitchen. She caught Eric's questioning gaze and shook her head. They had one of their silent conversations.

Everything cool?

Yes, fine. Don't worry.

If you say so, but you're heading into a confined space with a hot guy and your mother. I'm scared for you.

Makes two of us.

She pushed open the swinging door and quickly removed the cookies from the oven before she proceeded. There was nothing more disheartening than burnt cookies. As she worked, Callie realized that for once in her life Barbara had gone quiet. When all the cookie pans were resting on cooling racks, Callie found Barbara waiting patiently for whatever it was that was to be said, her hands neatly folded in front of her.

As soon as Callie opened her mouth Barbara put up a hand. “Wait. Just tell me. Am I going to be a grandmother?”

Bennett's eyes bugged and Callie's jaw dropped open. “Oh my god, Mother. No. And I'm a little insulted that you assumed I might be pregnant before you assumed I might be engaged.”