Page 17 of Offsides Attraction

While he preferred to be here, that didn’t mean he wanted to be or that he’d enjoyed himself. Penny felt used. She didn’t know why he felt the urge to slum with the little people, but she didn’t need him or the conflicting feelings he stirred in her.

“Well, you know what they say. The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” She smiled at him sweetly, trying to ignore the shocked look on Bash’s face. He hadn’t expected her verbal blitz. Score one for the little people, she thought.

He pushed off the door and slunk toward her, only stopping when they were toe-to-toe. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t do intentions. They’re a way to look virtuous doing nothing. To paraphrase Yoda, I’m more of a There is no try,’ kind of guy. Or in this case, intention.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means every time we’re together, I sense you intend to get along with me, but you fail. And I think it’s because you took an instant dislike to me when you overheard my stupid comment about movies being better than books. While I don’t have the social lubricant that draws everyone to your family like bees to honey, I am a decent human being, and I wish you’d forgive me and stop treating me like something you found on the bottom of your shoe.” She stared at his Adam’s apple, unable to meet his eyes. Sadness mixed with his usual nervousness, and Penny wished she could recall her words. She owed him another apology, and she needed to get her feelings in order.

“I’m so—”

“Save your apology. Actions speak louder than words,” he bit before storming out as if the hounds of hell nipped at his heels. Penny trailed behind him. As much as the insufferable man irked her, he was right. She needed to forgive him so she could forget his rudeness and treat him like everyone else. If he thought he deserved more, he was in for a rude awakening. You’re not that special Bash Vetter, she thought as Elspeth joined her at the window, making an appreciative hum.

“Who’d have thought a professional sports team could make Cascade City even prettier?” Penny sighed. Years of watching Elspeth in action had taught her to keep her comment to herself. It would only add fuel to the fire. “From the way he moves, I bet he could be a fun time.” Elspeth nudged her conspiratorially, and Penny cringed. Elspeth usually dated in her peer group, but she wasn’t averse to younger men.

“Only if he kept his mouth shut.”

“But there’s no fun in that.” She winked, and Penny rolled her eyes.

“You’re impossible.”

“And insatiable.”

“Bash is hot, but he can be a jerk,” Penny said, unsure if she was warning her aunt away or justifying her own behavior.

“You want hot and nice?”

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t keep them long enough for them to need to be nice, and I didn’t think you did either.” Penny didn’t appreciate her aunt’s judgy tone. Neither of them dated seriously, and Elspeth wore her independence as a badge of pride.

“I don’t, you know that. I have yet to find a man more interesting than a good book. But, yes, I guess I like them to be nice. It’s hard not to when I’ve grown up surrounded by good men,” Penny said.

“Your grandad and dad have set the bar pretty high. But they have their faults, too.” Elspeth wrapped her arm around Penny’s shoulder and pulled her near as they watched Bash’s SUV approach the exit. “It’s for the best. We’ve got a busy fall ahead of us, and the last thing you need is a distraction like him.” Elspeth relaxed against her, and Penny realized Elspeth had tuned into her residual anger.

“I know.” Penny stepped away. If Elspeth knew Penny was upset with herself, she’d worry. And pry. And even though the witches weren’t supposed to dive into the thoughts and feelings of those they were close to, there was always a risk that with enough motivation, someone would. It was safer for Elspeth to think she didn’t like Bash. And she didn’t. Not like that. But as a human. A handsome human who lived and worked with her brother and lived next door to her sister.

Besides, she wanted someone light and fun. Not someone who was quiet and brooding. Penny flashed back to the way Bash had interacted with her kids in the book club once he’d gotten out of his ego’s way. Low fantasy versus high fantasy. She snorted. The kids had looked at him like he was an alien species. And really, other than book snobs, no one cared as long as they enjoyed the story.

And she wanted someone supportive. Not someone who called out her bad behavior. Irritating man, she thought as she watched him pull up to the intersection. She flicked her wrist, and the light turned red when he approached it. She didn’t have the time to stand there and change the next two traffic lights, but she could hex this one to feel like forever.

Chapter 8

Bash tossed his key fob in the air, catching it as he walked to Rover. The fob would have been safer in his pocket, but not as much fun. He grinned. He shouldn’t be in a good mood—they’d lost Sunday’s game in overtime, and Coach Shockley was still unimpressed with his team-building skills. So unimpressed that they’d put a meeting on his calendar for tomorrow morning. Instead of lifting with his teammates, he’d be stuck in an office with Sam and head Coach Mack.

But the look on Penny’s face for the last hour had been priceless, and he didn’t know if he’d ever not smile thinking about it. He’d shocked her when he’d showed up for the kids’ book club, like he’d promised. He always got a kick out of it when people underestimated him. Proving them wrong was a sick satisfaction for him. And when he’d listened to them and asked age-appropriate follow-up questions, that had surprised her, too. She’d barely gotten a word in. It must have killed her, he thought.

He threw shopgirl off her game, and he was okay with that. The only win she had was when he’d announced he wouldn’t be at book club for the rest of the season. But he’d bought everyone copies of book four—insisting on paying full-price when Penny offered him a discount—and he would sign them before their next meeting. He was a sucker for signed books, especially when the giver made a personal comment. The Tin Man had a heart, but he was selective about who he shared it with.

He slid into the driver’s seat, and his phone chimed with a reminder to call his dad. His smile dropped. Calling his dad from the Rover was safest. No one would overhear them, and the twenty-minute drive back to the house would give them time to catch up, but not enough time for his father to rant at him for ignoring his responsibilities.

He hit the Call button on Rover’s display and his fingers beat against the steering wheel as the ringing filled the car. “Is this my prodigal son calling?”

“Do you have another one you haven’t told mom about?”

His dad laughed. “No, you’re the only one, and I’ve got you on speaker phone while I get ready to go to the Hilton’s cocktail party.” Of course you are. If John Vander Vetter had his way, life would be one party after another. His dad loved nothing better than talking to people he barely knew about things he knew nothing about. He was the king of small talk. He drew people to him, much like the Buchanan phenomenon, but without their depth or caring.

John always made plans for golf or weekends in the Hamptons, but he rarely followed through. It was just words with no actions. He didn’t want to be tied down in case something better came along. There was no planning or foresight. His dad ran his life and the business on gut instincts, and it drove Bash nuts. “Are you driving?”

---