Rachel's Redemption (3 page)

She took off her cotton underwear and slipped on the matching tap pants. They sat low on her hips, several inches below her belly button. She watched her reflection, turning side-to-side, and then all the way around, eyeing herself over her shoulder. The color was rich against her pale skin. The scalloped edges of the underwear rode high over her bottom. The design accentuated her figure. She looked voluptuous and very female.

Sexy.

Could she wear this under her regular clothes? Did she have to save it for a special occasion?

Rachel thought about the sensible and just-for-comfort bras and panties she owned. All nondescript and boring. The complete opposite of the beautiful, made-to-turn-on set she now wore. What if she wore these under her work clothes? It’d make her feel beautiful and sexy, desirable.

Who was she kidding? She worked with children. She needed to get a grip. Cotton was just fine. But, for special occasions, like the tribute event—that
would
take place, thank you very much—this sensual lace would be perfect.

“Prepare to be dazzled,” Rachel said, flinging open the velvet drape just as Beethoven’s orchestra cried out from above the door. “I am hot!”

“Wow,” a low, husky voice answered.

Rachel screamed. She jumped and executed an Olympic-worthy maneuver, escaping back to the blessed privacy of the dressing room.

Logan.

Rachel’s heart beat in her throat and her chest heaved. What was he doing here? Checking up on her to make sure she wasn’t planning something without his approval?

Maybe he hadn’t seen anything.

She shot her eyes to the ceiling and exhaled. So what if he had? It wasn’t any different than being seen in a bathing suit. Yeah, right. Like she’d ever be caught dead in a bathing suit in front of Logan Hastings.

“Rachel? You going to hide in there all day?”

Tempting . . . but, no. It was a day of facing challenges head on. Rachel pulled on the wrinkled linen. The plum material of the bra showed through the top, but it was par for the course. And, she didn’t care. She wasn’t aiming to impress anybody. She took another moment to get herself together and flung the curtain open. There he was. All six feet three inches of him.

His stare traveled over her face and down the front of her shirt. Her cheeks warmed as his gaze stalled a moment at her chest. She resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. Instead, she smoothed her shirt over her hips and suppressed a grimace.
Must exercise. Must exercise.
She inhaled, drawing in her stomach.

He brought his eyes back to hers. The icy blue she’d seen that morning was back. “Why am I not surprised to find you shopping?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I stopped in to see Molly.”

“Uh huh.”

She cocked a brow at him and asked, “What are
you
doing here?”

He didn’t answer, just continued to stare at her.

She stared back. If it was a contest of wills he wanted she’d give as good as she got. She’d had plenty of experience working with kiddos who didn’t want to take their medicine. She could definitely handle the man standing in front of her behaving like a child.

He broke eye contact first and she pressed her lips together to hide her triumphant smile. He swept his eyes around the store. “Molly’s got a nice set up here.” Logan stood in the midst of Molly’s display of bra and panty sets. He looked right at home. The former pro-football star probably well knew his way around ladies’ underwear.

Logan cast a glance to the rack of lace next to him, then returned his gaze to her, one brow raised. “How does Redemption’s underwear shopping compare to Denver’s?”

She so wasn’t answering that. He was teasing her.

Baiting her. Well, jock-star, she wasn’t rising to it. “What are
you
doing here?” she asked again.

“
I
live here.”

She’d already figured that out, but, even before seeing him at the meeting this morning, she
might
have read in some sports magazine that just
happened
to be left in the staff lounge that he’d retired last year after a broken leg had sidelined him the previous year.

Her heartbeat continued a steady thump against her ribcage. Sharing the same space, as public as it might be, with Logan Hastings, felt too private. Unlike at the town council meeting with board members and several community members present, here it was just the two of them. Her internal warning system must be out to lunch because it should have been tamping down the physical reaction her body had to him. It should have been telling her body to run, not simultaneously kicking up her heartbeat and internal temperature. She bit her lip.

“Give me your phone.”

“What? No.”

“Hand it over, Rachel.”

She scowled at him. Her phone was her lifeline. It was never far from her grasp. And, besides, she didn’t trust Logan.

“Come on I don’t have all day.” He held out his hand, gesturing with his fingers.

She bit back the retort on the tip of her tongue but fumbled in her pocket for her Blackberry. She still didn’t pass it to him. Like passing it over was giving in to something she didn’t quite want to, even though she didn’t know exactly what that
something
was.

“Give it.”

She hesitated. He eyed her steadily. At last she dropped the phone onto his palm, not touching him.

He punched in a few numbers, hit send, waited a beat

then hit ‘end’ and handed it back to her. He patted the pocket of his shorts. “Now I have your number. Since we’re
partners.
”

He said it like it was the worst possible fate.
Well,

buddy, on that one thing we both agree.
Silence fell around them. She pocketed her phone.

Beethoven announced Molly’s return. “Oh, hey, Logan. I didn’t know you were here.” Molly shot a loaded look to Rachel who shrugged. “Can I help you find something?”

“Nope. Already found what I came for.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“So, how’d they fit?” Molly asked Rachel.

“Fine,” Rachel said, sliding a glance to Logan, who, wisely, kept his mouth shut. 

“Good! I got us iced lattes, Rach. You’ll love these. Better than Starbucks.” She handed Rachel hers.

Rachel wrapped her hand around the icy plastic cup, anxious to have something to do with her fidgety hands. 

Logan’s eyes held Rachel’s a moment. He looked like he wanted to say something to her.

She was sure he had a whole bunch to say to her. But, instead, he said, “Catch you later, Molly.”

Molly waved from where she’d retreated behind the register.

Rachel watched him cross to the door and stop, his broad back nearly blocking out the light from the entrance.

A moment passed and then he turned around. Rachel’s eyes met his and she hated that now he knew she’d been watching him. He raked his gaze from her head to her toes and back again. He opened his mouth to speak. 

Rachel held her breath. At last, he said, “You’re right. You are hot,” and proceeded out the door.

Chapter 3

This day was turning out all right after all.

Logan backed his truck out of the parking space and headed to the high school. A wide grin split his face. Well, hell, if the rest of the month went anything like today, maybe Rachel Delaney-Tolbert back in Redemption wasn’t too terrible after all. So far today he’d seen the girl, who’d been out of his reach in high school, in a wet T-shirt that would have won her first place in any contest and, just now, in her underwear. Extremely hot underwear.

He turned up the AC. The image of her popping out of the dressing room in purple lace, creamy skin filling bra cups that barely covered her nipples and full hips poured into sexy underwear was front and center on his brain.

Rachel had filled out since high school. She had run away a skinny girl and returned a voluptuous woman who did amazing things for purple lace.

Amazing things.

Logan pulled into the high school parking lot. It still gave him an odd sense of déjà vu. Sure, he’d been to the high school before. He’d practically lived there. But, now
he
was the coach. It was his field and his team. And, right now, his team needed to win some games.

He pushed thoughts of the sexy Rachel Delaney-Tolbert from his mind and focused on his job. The one he was getting paid for.

His cell phone buzzed as he entered the coach’s office. Logan checked the caller ID and suppressed a groan. He answered the phone. His boss, the AD, skipped hello and started talking. “Logan, I need a favor.”

Logan slid into his chair, propping his feet on the desk.

“What can I do for you?”

“I want you to let my wife’s cousin help coach this year.”

Logan’s feet hit the floor.

“He played a little in high school, not too much in college, but that’s just because he went to the wrong school. That program couldn’t see his potential—”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“—he just moved to Dixon, so he’s only twenty miles from Redemption. He’s really motivated. He’s smart. Got a great football mind. He’ll fit right in.”

Logan cast a glance around his office. He’d hung up pictures of all the teams he’d been a part of from high school through college and pro. “I don’t have an opening.”

“Sure you do. He could coach the running backs.”

“I have a running backs coach.”

“He can help Morrison coach the defensive line.”

Charlie didn’t need any help from the AD’s cousin. Logan had had many coaches. He’d respected every one of them. Most of them had had some sort of impact on who he was today. His eyes landed on a picture of his high school coach, the one who’d helped him catch the attention of college scouts and the one who’d helped him see that he could become more than just Mean Gene’s son. He remembered the man, now long gone, fondly and wondered if the AD’s cousin might have that impact on one of his players.

“Logan, consider this a personal favor.”

There wasn’t much he could say to that. “I need to meet him first.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Meet. You’re going to hit it off. You’ll see. I hope you don’t mind but I asked him to meet with you today, before practice.”

Logan rolled his eyes. He needed every minute of practice for
practice,
not playing human resources manager. The AD continued speaking in his ear.

“Thanks, Logan. You won’t regret this.”

Logan didn’t believe that for a second.

Molly refused to let Rachel walk out of
Fancy Pants
wearing the wrinkled linen suit.

She put Rachel in a light blue, non-wrinkle, jersey sundress—a gift, Molly had said—that barely reached mid-thigh, and sent Rachel on her way.

Rachel was ready to put the event in motion, no matter what that jerky jock Logan said. Or did. Or saw.

The clock was ticking, the town council had said “yes”, and she was one month away from giving her final gift to Nana.

First stop: the high school. Rachel parked in the parking lot and just sat there, a flood of nostalgia washing over her.

It was an odd sensation of disconnection and belonging. Her world had once revolved around the happenings at this school, the people at this school.

Her friends, her teachers. Molly. And Logan. He’d been a super-star. Everybody had loved him—his teammates, his friends, his teachers. She hated to admit it, but he’d been a big part of her life—everyone’s life—in those days. The difference was that he really liked everyone else. She seemed to be the only one he detested.

And, he’d just seen her naked. Well, mostly naked.

Close enough.

Embarrassing enough.

Bold enough.

You are hot.
Ha! He hadn’t been looking too closely if that’s what he thought. He was just pushing buttons.
Well, whatever, Logan
. She refused to be susceptible to his charm, to him, or his eyes, or his smile.

Rachel pulled herself from the car. She didn’t have time to think about Logan or the past. It was the future all the way, kid.

She started across the parking lot and stared out over the football field and stadium stands. There was a gym class on the field and kids running on the track. The stands were nearly empty. On game days, it would be standing room only. The Thursday night before Homecoming weekend there would be a parade. Then on Friday there would be the Homecoming game and Nana’s event would follow.

She was visualizing a semi-formal sit-down dinner. But how to get the word out? Might as well take out an ad in the newspaper.

Rachel stopped. That would work, too. She could put an ad in the
Redemption Review.
Perfect, and Nana would have liked that. Sort of like the people pages of the
New York Times.
Rachel smiled. Maybe she could plan this event. Okay, one thing down.

Only a hundred more to go.

Rachel tugged on the gym door. It opened just like she knew it would. They’d never locked this door when she’d gone to school here.

It was lit up but empty. But it wouldn’t be for long when the class out on the field ended and the kids came back.

Rachel scanned the empty space. It was large enough to hold a hundred people, ten round tables, and ten people at each table. She searched for a place the caterer could set up. Caterer. She needed to add that to her list, too.

Maybe in the hall outside the gym? Or maybe in the corridor that led to the locker rooms. She wrinkled her nose. Locker rooms didn’t exactly equate to appetizing. Well, she’d figure something out.

Rachel’s phone buzzed. She fished it out of her bag.

She didn’t recognize the number, except for the Redemption area code.

“This is Rachel,” she said, glancing around. Her voice sounded loud in the quiet.

“What are you up to?”

A tingle danced along her spine. She ignored it and added a little starch to her voice. “That’s none of your business, Logan.”

“Technically . . . it is.” Did she hear a smile in that statement?

Rachel turned at the sound of a door opening behind her. Logan walked out, his cell phone to his ear.

Her voice caught. He looked so right in this gym. He’d changed from what he’d had on at the board meeting. Now he wore black shorts and a red Warriors tee shirt, a whistle hung around his neck. Images of him as a teen standing in that exact spot spun through her mind.

She used to make up reasons to come to the gym after school—left a book in her locker, had a question for the gym teacher, Molly needed something from
her
locker—anything, it didn’t matter. Anything that might give her an opportunity to see Logan, without him knowing. Just a mere glimpse of him then had been thrilling, eliciting a shiver-like feeling, and swoops in her stomach.

Now she had swoops in her stomach, but it was coupled with set teeth and a tight grip on her phone.  

He turned toward her. She found her voice and said, “No. It’s not.”

Slowly he lowered the phone. “You’re trespassing, Rachel.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Hardly.”

His long legs could have brought him to her in just a few strides, but he took his time. He regarded her like a lion eyeing a predator. She was on his territory and the look on his face clearly said he didn’t like it and if she didn’t run away he was going to bare his teeth.

“Don’t get any ideas about using this place.”

“Why not? It’s what Nana wanted.”

“Why?”

Rachel shrugged. “She loved Homecoming.”

Logan grunted, tucking his arms across his chest. “She was crazy.”

“She wasn’t!”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Honey, she was a seventy-year-old prom queen.”

“Homecoming. And, it was tradition.”

“I don’t give a flip about your traditions. You heard the board. You need my okay on all decisions. You aren’t using this place.”

“That’s not exactly what the board said.”

The exterior gym doors opened and kids started pouring in.

Logan checked his watch. He started backing up. “Meet me at Wings. Dinner. Six sharp. Don’t be late.”

“Wait!” But he was already through the exterior doors and the gym was filled with the noise of several dozen teens. Logan couldn’t have heard her even if he’d wanted to.

Gah!

That was
not
what the board had said. But, she was saying it to herself. She supposed he felt he had a say since the board had said he needed to
help
plan this thing. Help, not approve. Big difference.

All she needed was for him to stay out of her way.

She tapped her phone against her lip then she turned and made her way out of the gym. This was her show and it would be a success. She didn’t need any help. That’s precisely what she’d tell him, too, tonight. But no way was she having dinner with him.