Page 12 of Offsides Attraction

Penny looked over her shoulder. The men had moved out of the kitchen and were on the ground talking with fans and signing autographs. Cal looked like he’d been doing this for years, instead of being in his rookie year. He’d never talked about playing professional football, even after the Tetons arrived. He’d tried out on a whim, and no one was more surprised than Cal when he’d made the practice squad. And then a week later they’d bumped him up to the active roster because of a last-minute trade that had something to do with next year’s draft pick. Penny didn’t want to waste the brain cells to understand it. If Cal knew what was going on, she was fine.

“Don’t worry about them. Just focus on what you do best, and if you need a little help, we’re here.” Penny winked.

Maggie narrowed her eyes. “Thank you, but no. I’ve got this, and your help would probably backfire on me since it would be for my benefit.” One boundary of their gift was they couldn’t use it for their own gain, other than for inconsequential events like dusting or ironing or multitasking. Nothing that would give them financial gain or benefit them over someone else, which is why Penny had won their race to the trailhead fair and square. A good witch couldn’t cheat by using their gifts.

“Everyone would appreciate a light, cool breeze, especially when your cakes need to cool.”

“Which is what I’m using the fridge for. Seriously, Penny. Don’t. And don’t let Elspeth. You know how she loves to meddle with the weather.”

“Fine. But you’re no fun.” She stuck her tongue out at Maggie.

“I know. Go bother Cal and his team. I want to make one more kitchen check.” Maggie made a shooing motion with her hand, and Penny looked toward the men. The surrounding crowd had dwindled, and she had time to kill. If she went back to her family, grandad would probably subject her to his endless matchmaking. He knew all the farmers and ranchers in a fifty-mile radius, their single sons, grandsons, and nephews, and he was determined to see his granddaughters paired off.

Penny weaved her way through the crowd, taking the long way, hoping someone wanted to chat. She’d get credit for trying to wish Cal and Lucas luck, and she’d miss seeing Bash. A few people waved and smiled, but no one stopped her.

She saw Cal and Lucas talking with a few high school students, and she quickened her pace. The sooner she wished them luck, the sooner she could leave. She wasn’t avoiding Bash, but she was limiting her exposure to him. He rubbed her the wrong way and invaded her thoughts. He’s a menace, she thought, startling as he popped up in front of her, scaring her half to death. A boy gazed up at him with a death grip on the paper in his hand. Bash snapped the cover on his marker and tucked it into his Tetons ball cap.

“Thanks for coming,” he called as the mother and son duo walked away. “Hi.” He turned his summer sky-blue eyes on her and smiled. It was a potent combination, but luckily, his personality was the antidote. It was only a matter of time before something arrogant or condescending came out of his mouth.

Penny bit the inside of her cheek. Bash had a smear of what looked to be ketchup on the corner of his mouth and possibly English muffin dust on his face. A face that was even more handsome with scruff. And she was a sucker for scruff.

“Hi, yourself,” she said, brushing her cheek with a little laugh. If she didn’t let some of it escape, she’d erupt. “Nervous?” She licked the corner of her mouth. Bash’s eyes tracked the movement, and Penny felt the air around them warm.

“For a baking contest we’re not supposed to win? No.”

“But you need to beat the defense, right?” Penny had walked by their station, and from the quiet bickering she’d heard, she didn’t think it would be difficult. Unless one of them was a temperamental chef, which she doubted.

“I don’t think it will be a problem.” He leaned closer and her fingers itched to brush the crumbs from his face. How can Cal and Lucas not see this? Penny scrubbed her cheeks and Bash’s eyes narrowed. “Rumor has it the person to beat is the lady at the end with the triple-chocolate walnut brownies.”

“But not Maggie?”

“She’s a virtual unknown, but the hometown favorite.”

“How do you know this?”

“I observe more than talk, unlike the yabber-twins.” He jerked his head toward Cal and Lucas, who were talking to several lanky teens and their parents.

“Does that bother you?” Bash really was shy if he thought Cal was a talker.

“Not really. It’s good background noise. Like Muzak.”

“You must feel like you’re living in an elevator, then.”

“Or a doctor’s office.” She saw one of the local television news reporters heading their way, and she licked the corner of her mouth again and rubbed her cheek. Bash looked at her like she was deranged. “Are you okay?” He stepped back as if he might catch her crazy.

The news crew called to Cal, and Penny wondered if they’d focus on the two local boys gone pro. Lucas grew up on a farm in the valley about an hour away and he’d played in the NFL for a while now. Technically, not a hometown boy, but close enough for the news team. They might leave Bash alone. But maybe they won’t. Her conscience nudged her. She’d hate it if someone filmed her with food on her face. She could conjure up a stiff breeze to blow the muffin dust off his face, but it wouldn’t solve the ketchup problem.

“No, I’m not okay,” she said, stepping into his personal space. “And neither are you.” She touched his face, and his head jerked. “Hold still. You’re wearing some of your breakfast.” Bash tilted his head down, and she brushed the light-colored crumbs from his dark scruff. His firm jaw and chin felt soft under her fingers.

“Are you done yet?” he asked, sounding impatient. Seriously? She was ensuring he didn’t look like a toddler learning to eat, but he was annoyed with her. I should leave the ketchup, but she couldn’t.

“Almost. Just a bit”—she touched the corner of his mouth and his lips parted—“here.” His eyes widened, and she felt his warm breath on her face. Penny swiped at the ketchup spot, wondering if it was too late for that cooling breeze. The contrast between his scruff and his soft lips left the tip of her finger tingly. She swallowed. “You might want to, um, give it a lick.” She hated how breathless she sounded, but Bash did as she’d asked.

“Better?” he asked as he wiped the corner again with his finger.

“Much.” She smiled uncomfortably.

“Thanks.”

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