Ellen Hartman - The Long Shot

Wes spoke up. “I’m out of high school. I’m on a break from college to help my brother out here.”

Julia caught Deacon’s glance at his brother. That answered her question about Wes and high school, but now she had to find out what was with this break from college. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d fudged the truth on the phone the other day.

The kids posed a few more questions, and then she dismissed the team for the afternoon. Tali’s hips had a distinctly forced sway as she sashayed toward the locker room. Julia made a mental note to speak to the team about appropriate interaction with their coaches.

Tali’s brothers crowded up to Deacon after the girls had disappeared.

“You really played in the NBA?” Trey asked.

Deacon nodded. “You two on my team?”

Shawn giggled, but Trey scowled. “We’re not girls.”

Wes snapped his fingers. “I told you they were dudes, Deacon.”

“Darn. I wanted them on my team.”

Shawn giggled again.

Wes crouched so that he was closer to their eye level. “So what’s up? Why are you hanging around the high school chicks?”

Trey rolled his eyes. “Our sister is on the team. Her name’s Tali. Mom says we can’t go home by ourselves after school, even though I’m in fourth grade.”

“Tali says we’re pests, but she has to come here after school, so we do, too.”

“That’s good,” Deacon said. “Maybe you can give me the inside scoop on this team. You know, tell me who’s really good at what.”

“Man,” Trey said, “Tali’s team is so bad nobody’s any good. You sure you want to mess around with them?”

“I’m sure,” Deacon said.

“You’re making a bad decision,” Trey said.

“Yeah, like really stupid,” Shawn agreed.

* * *

DEACON HOPED TALI’S brothers were wrong, but he wasn’t certain.

Julia smiled at him. “I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to coach,” she said. “The girls were over the moon.”

He glanced around, but Wes had moved off to play keep-away with the little boys, dribbling between his legs and behind their backs, while they squealed and darted after the ball.

“Look, Julia. I’m here and I’m staying to coach, but I don’t appreciate being tricked, and I really don’t appreciate being a pawn in whatever war you’ve got going with your buddy Principal Ty.” He’d had enough of being played with by the boosters as a kid.

Her cheeks were pink, whether from the warmth of the gym or emotion he couldn’t say.

“Ty is not my buddy. In fact, he got under my skin, and I may have made some…promises… Right before I called you, I was becoming concerned I wouldn’t be able to keep those promises. I should have explained better, but you didn’t exactly ask a lot of questions.” Which still wasn’t a real apology.

“Promises?” What the hell? She’d made promises and now he’d have to help her keep them? Wes jogged up just then. Deacon kept his eyes on Julia while he dug his keys out of his pocket. “Wes, will you go bring the car around?”

He dropped the keys to the Porsche in Wes’s hand.

“Why? You never let me drive your car. Are you and Julia going to talk about me behind my back?”

“No. And she’s Ms. Bradley to you.”

“Then why are you trying to get rid of me?” Wes asked, even as he put his hand with the keys behind his back as if afraid Deacon would snatch them away. “And she said I could call her Julia.”

“Because as of an hour ago when I accepted this job, I became the head coach and you became the assistant. The assistant does things like carry the water bottles, hold the clipboard and bring the car around. And you’re a couple months out of high school. You can call her Ms.”

Wes still didn’t move.

“You might want to get going before I decide the assistant also does the team laundry.”

Wes attempted puppy eyes on Julia. “Why does he get to be the head coach? I’m a much nicer person than he is.”

“He has more experience.”

“I’m taller.”

She shrugged. “Not by much. Plus, he’s older.”

“This is age bias.”

Julia grinned at him, but she shook her head. “I’m leaving personnel decisions in the hands of the guy with the most experience. But I really don’t mind if you call me Julia. In fact, I’d prefer it.”

“Go get the car, Wes.”

“Fine.” Wes spun the keys around his finger and caught them in his hand, clearly excited by the opportunity to drive the Porsche. “Don’t be rude to Julia while I’m gone.” He turned. “Hey, little dudes. Want to ride in my superfast car?”

The three of them ran out of the gym.

Deacon focused on the situation facing him. Coach Donny Simon, the Milton High School sports program and its boosters were the definition of self-interested. He knew that firsthand. He couldn’t let himself forget that they never offered anything that wouldn’t end with them the winners.

Where Julia stood he wasn’t as sure. They might be coaching together, but that didn’t mean they were on the same team.

“You have someplace private we can go so you can tell me about these promises?”

* * *

JULIA LED DEACON through the library to her office. She took him inside and then closed the door, confident anyone who needed her would knock.

She backed all the way up against her desk in an effort to put some space between her and Deacon. They’d barely spent an hour together, but she’d already realized something very dangerous about him: his eyes were lethal.

Somewhere along the way someone had told Wes he had cute eyes, and he didn’t hesitate to deploy their power, but she spent her days dealing with kids trying to get out of consequences or obligations. She was immune to begging eyes, even if they were as cute as Wes’s.

Deacon’s, however, were a deep, dark blue and they went to navy when he ducked his head, letting his hair shadow them. They were wary, guarded and hit her in the place in her soul that wanted to save people.

Before she’d seen him, she’d worried she and Deacon wouldn’t be able to work together if she couldn’t stop viewing him as a former student. Now that he was in her office, taking up most of the available air, making glasses look sexy, for God’s sake, she knew that fear was groundless. No one would ever mistake Deacon Fallon for a boy. His shoulders alone had enough powerful sex appeal to make her believe he’d been born a full-grown man, because certainly someone who looked the way he did had never been anything but strong and secure.

Even when Ty with all his bulk and bluster was in her office, the space didn’t feel this small. She’d never been so aware of the location of her thighs and chest in relation to Ty’s the way she was with Deacon.

“So you want to explain about these promises?” he asked.

The bet with Ty painted her in a ridiculous light; she hated to explain it. But she had to. After all, Deacon was key to the girls winning.

“It’s more of a bet than a promise. When Ty told me the board had taken away funding for the team, I bet him we would make it to States this year.”

“You bet him you would win States?” Deacon’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Not win. Just get there.” Four teams went to States, but only one could win. She much preferred the odds for getting there.

“With this team? The one I just met?”

“Yes.”

He gazed at the ceiling as if expecting to see some other team descending from the sky to prove she’d been teasing him all along.

He put his fingers up to his temples. “Okay. So you bet him the girls would get to States.” He was almost talking to himself. Talking himself down, out of his anger. “Heat of the moment. He got under your skin. I can relate. They could be better than they look. I haven’t watched them play yet.”