Win Me Over (14 page)

“Fall for me always means football.”

“Of course. You've played your whole life, I imagine.”

“Yeah. My dad played, taught me young. Football is huge in Texas. Especially high school.” They stopped beside his truck; the moon was bright, highlighting her hair and her sparkling eyes.

“This was fun. Thanks for inviting me,” he said.

“It
was
fun. I'm glad you could come. Now you're all inspired and ready to kill it with your dancing skills,” Callie said.

He shook his head. “We'll be lucky if I don't make a complete fool of both of us.”

“I promised you I wouldn't let that happen. You have to trust me.” She backed up as she spoke. “Let's practice what we did Saturday.”

“Callie…,” he warned.

“Come on.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the truck and into the street before stepping into him.

He stared down at her. “There's no music.”

“Oh please. Music is in your soul. Close your eyes.”

With a sigh he did as she asked. “I'll admit, I've been hearing you counting in my sleep.”
Among other things
—but he kept that to himself.

“Ha! Then what are you complaining for? Imagine the song. We heard it over and over Saturday. We go on my cue.”

“Okay,” he said into the breeze. “You know we're standing in the road with our eyes closed? This is dangerous.” In a multitude of ways.

“Hush, only you have your eyes closed. Trust me, remember.”

He couldn't help smile at her annoyance. It was adorable.
Trust me.

“One two three four five six,” she counted, her voice moving away from him as she slid down the front of his body. Her hand trailed down his neck, chest, and stomach. With his eyes shut it felt erotic, knowing that she now knelt in front of him like this, out in the open. Her fingers brushed the top of his jeans and it was too intense. Before he could process his reaction he grasped at her head with both hands, his fingers tangling in her hair.

She stopped counting instantly and the change startled him. His eyes flew open and he looked down into her face. He pulled his hands back. He wasn't sure if he'd meant to hold her there or stop her. A little of both. “Shit … I'm sorry.”

She stood slowly and gave him an awkward smile. “It's okay. Maybe we'll just do something else.” She slipped her hands into his and positioned them ballroom-style again.

“I liked it like this. It was simple,” he said. Grateful that she'd blown off what he'd done so easily.

Her lips parted for a second, her eyes wide as she whispered, “I like it, too.”

He swayed them from side to side in slow motion, loving the feel of her body flush against his. He turned them, bowing them gently from side to side, taking the lead, the streetlamp lighting her eyes and then plunging them into darkness over and over. They continued to sway like that for several minutes, until just like before she sighed and rested her head on his chest.

Bennett let his eyes slip shut once more, her vanilla scent overwhelming him, the warmth of her hand branding his skin. This was perfection.

“I told you we could dance without music,” she said quietly. “If you try, you can hear it.”

“Yes.” It was true; once they'd started the rhythm it was there in his mind, guiding his body.

She looked up, her chin resting on his chest, and he tilted his head down to see her. She looked so beautiful like that, and the way he was holding her, she felt like she belonged to him.

“Just wait until I teach you a true waltz. That will be next time.”

He groaned in mock annoyance. The truth was, as feminine as dancing was, it surely had been invented by a man as a socially acceptable excuse to get a woman in his arms.

“Tell me the truth. Do you regret agreeing to this?” she asked, and her question surprised him.

He said the first words that slipped into his mind. “No. Not at all.”

“I'm glad,” she said. Every time she spoke, her chin dug into his chest. He didn't mind one bit.

They continued to sway, their faces only a foot apart as he stared into her eyes. She had to know what he was thinking. Feeling. He wanted her to be feeling it, too, even though his brain was trying desperately to remind him that this was a bad idea. They had this competition to focus on and neither one of them needed the distraction.

More than anything, he wasn't ready to fall for someone. But right now, it was difficult to care about anything else. The only thing that made sense in this moment was how good she felt—soft and inviting—in his arms. He halted their movements and lifted a hand to her chin.

For a moment she was still, but then slowly her mouth turned up at the corners and it felt like an invitation. He moved on pure instinct; dipping his head, he pressed his mouth lightly to hers.

Her lips came together tentatively, firm against his. He pressed another soft kiss, then another, before lightly tugging at her bottom lip, urging her open. Just when he decided this was a mistake, her fingers trailed up into the short hairs on the back of his head and she sighed against his mouth. Her lips parted just the slightest bit and he ran his tongue against the seam.

Her only movement was the pressure of her hand on his neck, pulling him down to her, his sign that she wanted this. Finally she responded with the lightest press of her lips to his. He didn't go any further, just placed another kiss on the corner of her mouth, then the bow of her top lip.

She leaned into his body, her hand going to his face and cupping his jaw. “This feels like a bad idea,” she whispered, her voice breathy and soft.

“Do you want me to stop?” He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand.

She let out the smallest whimper of frustration and immediately pleasure flooded his body. He couldn't help himself: instead of waiting for her answer he asked her with his touch; angling his lips over hers, he took her mouth fully. This time she kissed him back, insistent and demanding.

Now she used both hands to pull him against her, their bodies as flush as humanly possible. He knew she would feel him hard against her stomach, and suddenly he didn't care; he wanted her to know what she did to him. She drove him crazy, filled his dreams with thoughts of her, his days with longing.

The tip of her tongue met his and he groaned before intensifying the kiss. It was manic and possessive, their tongues tangling with each other, and when he couldn't get deep enough he wrapped both arms around her waist and lifted her feet from the ground. She held on around his neck, fitting against him so effortlessly it made him dizzy.

He felt the pain radiate from his hip as he walked them toward his truck, but he suffered through it, drunk on the feel of this woman in his arms, unwilling to put her down or let her go.

He kissed her long and hard, holding her body against his. Finally he pulled away, breathing deep before gently setting her toes onto the street behind his truck. Their faces stayed close, foreheads meeting. Her fingers made lazy circles on the back of his neck, like her touching him was the most natural thing in the world.

“That was
almost
better than dancing,” she said, her voice all teasing and playfulness.

She was constantly making him laugh, more than anyone else. And damn, she looked so hot doing it. He grinned.
“Almost?”

She continued to smile, her face lit by the streetlight, but he didn't miss the subtle change, her lips slipping down, her eyes refusing to meet his. She was regretting what had just happened. His fear was confirmed when she whispered, “Bennett. I don't know if we should do that again.”

His body went rigid in her arms. That was not exactly what a man wanted to hear after he'd kissed a woman for the first time. He let go of her and backed away. “Okay. I'm sor—”

She shut him up by grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him close. “That's not what I meant. Don't apologize. I've wanted that to happen from the first moment I met you.”

That helped his ego a little, but he still pulled away, unable to be this close to her anymore. If she was able to say that so easily, she meant it. It shouldn't have happened. She didn't want it to happen again.

Callie ran her hand through her tousled hair. “Bennett, please don't be upset. Just think … we're going to be spending so much time together, adding sex to the equation…”

“Shit. No. I'm not upset.” He was humiliated. And pissed. “It's fine. You're right; that was a bad idea.”

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and pulled out his keys. He hit a small button and the sound of his doors unlocking startled Callie. She stepped away from the truck and into the grass.

“I better go,” he said.

“I don't think we should part like this.”

“Part like what? Nothing's wrong. We're good.” He was embarrassed as hell, but otherwise they were good.

“Do you mean that?”

The tone of her words suddenly irked him. She was fine, but she was worried about him. She might as well have patted his head and asked if he needed to talk to someone about his feelings. It fucking sucked. “What are you asking, Callie? We're good, no big deal. When do we practice again?” His words came out a little too loud and agitated.

She cleared her throat, obviously taken aback by his sudden outburst. But she was all cool and calm. “Why don't I secure the school gym for us on Tuesdays and Thursdays after our teams practice? That way we can just get it out of the way before we go home.”

So she wanted to meet on neutral ground, not at his place or even her place.
Get it out of the way—nice.
She was ready to treat this for what it was. A job.

Obviously she wanted to make sure what just happened didn't happen again. It was probably for the best, because he shouldn't want a woman who didn't want him back.
Been there, done that.

“Sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow.”

And just like that she'd shut him down like it was no big deal. She was bold and honest, raw and intriguing. She was beautiful and funny. And from now on she was off-limits.

*   *   *

The following afternoon Bennett was early to practice. He passed the gym well before he knew Callie usually got there, intent on not seeing her until he had to later that day.

He shoved the heavy door open and headed out to the football field. The sound of Reggie's hollering traveled on the breeze and Bennett looked out to find his assistant out on the field with his seventh-hour strength and conditioning class, made up of mostly football and soccer players. Bennett watched as Reg called out another instruction and the guys began running high-knee drills. Damn, Bennett hated those when he was younger. These days he'd give anything just to have the ability to do them.

He shuffled down the steps, his hip and thigh more sore than ever thanks to his new recreational activity. It didn't help that he'd been practicing at home. But it's just how he was: if he was going to do something he wanted to get it right.

Reggie looked and saw Bennett and then walked in his direction. When Reggie was near enough he called out, “Nobody needed homework help today, huh? We gonna start early?”

“Guess we could. Whatever you want.” Bennett hit the bottom of the stands and then stepped onto the track that surrounded the field.

Reggie met him near their sideline bench. “Whatever
I
want? You feeling okay?”

Bennett laughed. “Yeah, fine. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Uh-huh. I can tell. Usually the only thing on your mind is football. What's going on with you?”

Bennett pulled off his hat and brushed a hand through his hair, sweat already collecting on his head. He was also trying to ignore the way Reggie, hands on his hips, was staring at him.

“You gonna say something or pretend you didn't hear me? Because believe me, I know that game; my wife has it down.”

Bennett laughed. “Come on, man. Everything's fine. I'm early, so what.”

“
So what
is that it's not like you to not have students come in on your planning period so you can help them with their science work. On top of that, I didn't hear a peep from you this weekend. How long's it been since you didn't text me repeatedly Saturday after a Friday night game to discuss play changes? So by my calculations, either you were busy all day Saturday, which I can't imagine,
or
you weren't thinking about football, which I also can't imagine unless something else more important was on your mind. So now you tell me
so what
.”

Bennett stared at his friend. “You feel better now that you got that off your chest?” Bennett said dryly.

“I'll feel better when you admit that something's going on with you and that dance coach. You got weird right after that all went down, so what is it? You hit it? That the problem?”

“Jesus, Reg, we're at school.” Bennett glanced out to the field. The guys had finished their drill, and without their coach there to give them direction they'd all sat down near the end zone to take a break.

“They can't hear me,” Reg said with a wave of his hand. “So is that it?”

“No, that's not it.”

“So the problem is that you
haven't
hit it then.”

Bennett shook his head. “Nothing serious has happened. We kissed, that's it. And it's not gonna happen again.”

Reggie lifted an eyebrow. “Says who?”

Bennett sighed. “Says her.”

“No shit.” Reggie winced. “Damn, man, sorry to hear that. I'm honestly shocked. I didn't know any woman was capable of saying no to Coach Clark.”

“Yeah, well, she's one of a kind, that's for sure.”

“Well, good. I hope this throws you off your game so I can kick your ass with my dancin' skills.”