Page 12 of Love Game

Danny frowned, confused by the swift change in topic. “The Sentinel? Why are you telling us this? You the new secretary or something?”

Mike nearly cracked one of Danny’s ribs with his pointy elbow. Kate, of course, caught the not-so-subtle warning. Her eyes narrowed, and her jaw tightened. She hesitated for a moment, as if weighing her options. But when she spoke, her drawl was as thick as molasses.

“Or something. I’m pretty booked up with the filming for NSN, but I figured I’d mention this to you.” She fixed him with a disconcertingly direct stare. “Hey, they did a profile on you once, didn’t they?”

They did a hatchet job on him just after the debacle, but he saw no need to acknowledge what they all knew.

“Caught it on a replay last week.”

She flashed her championship smile again, but there was no warmth behind it. As a matter of fact, it felt a helluva lot like a shank of cold steel piercing his gut.

“Anyhow, I was thinking maybe you’d want a shot at a more friendly news outlet, so I thought I’d pass it along. I’m nothing if not a team player.”

Message delivered, she turned on her heel and started back toward her car. Ice queen or not, he watched her walk away. He couldn’t help himself. Hell, there wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t be drawn in by the subtle sway of her hips.

“Don’t even think it, man,” Mike said, his voice low and ominous.

Danny shot him a glance. “Think about what?”

“You know what.”

The edge in Mike’s tone barely registered. Another male voice called, “Hey, Coach! Heads up!”

Danny jerked his head up, but once again, no one was looking at him. They were all focused on Kate. The wind caught her hair as she turned, plastering a few wisps to her cheek and neck while the rest danced in the whirling spring breeze.

A young man in a cropped practice jersey cocked his arm and let the ball fly. The high, tight spiral arced nearly the width of the field. A gust of spring wind pinned Kate’s shirt to her lithe frame. She stepped into the pass, her palms open and her fingers spread wide and welcoming. A low, throaty laugh rippled across the field as she secured the ball and feinted to her left. The players on the field erupted into whoops and catcalls, and she shook her head, grinning as she brushed the hair from her face. She tossed the ball underhand to a nearby assistant and then waved to the boys before starting for her car.

Danny stood transfixed until she reached the driver’s door, willing her to look up once more. But he got no sneaking peeks or coy smiles from Kate Snyder. No, when she looked up, she stared directly at him, her chin lifted, her hair dancing in the spring breeze. They stood there, locked in silent challenge, and all the sounds of the drills being run on the scrubby field faded away. Then she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Hey, Coach, get your head in the game!”

Danny had to laugh. At last, he’d met a worthy opponent. And all the warnings in the world couldn’t stop him from getting in the game. He lifted a hand in a half wave.

“Get crossways with her, and there’s nothing I can do to save you,” Mike reminded him.

He spared his friend a glance. “I thought you and your pal Millie wanted us to get crossways.”

“You know what I’m saying.”

Danny nodded once and turned his attention back to the field. “Who threw that?”

“Kilgorn. Wide receiver,” Mike answered without missing a beat.

“He’s our new quarterback.”

An engine roared to life, but Danny didn’t look back. Clapping his hands to get their attention, he strode onto the overgrown field and held up one hand to call for the ball. “Okay, men, bring it in. Time to get down to business.”

Chapter 4

“A hundred and ten percent from now on. Nothing less. You got me?” Danny gazed at the sea of sullen faces in front of him, searching for a flicker of response. He got zero. “Champions aren’t born—they’re made. If you’re not willing to bring your all to the game and leave everything you have on the field, I don’t have room for you on my team.”

Silence. Not even the shuffling of shoes or a sniffle. Stone-cold silence. His voice echoed off the dry-erase boards that lined the walls. Shadows of last season’s busted plays hid behind the thousands of X and O marks left by basketball. The jumble had to be Kate Snyder’s brand of alphabet soup. Her season lasted to the very end. The men’s team didn’t even make the tournament.

Tearing his gaze from the boards, he stared up at the strips of fluorescent lighting. Talking to this bunch was like trying to break through the toughest defensive line. But he’d do it. Eventually, he’d find the hole and punch right through. He just had to keep pounding.

Pitching his voice lower, he gave them his best “I’m leveling with you” stare. Only a few hearty souls dared to meet his eyes. “This is Division I football. You’re here because you have the brains and the drive to be here. Now, I’ll admit that most of the guys you’re going up against can barely tie their shoelaces…”

That earned him a couple of snickers. Danny grabbed them and ran, hoping he might find a way to channel their classroom discipline onto the gridiron. The principles of hard work and determination should translate. Unfortunately, it was hard to infuse confidence into a team that hadn’t won a single conference game in four seasons.

“But they can play ball. So can you. You’re big enough, strong enough…” Crap. Tapping old Stuart Smalley routines for inspiration—a new low for him. “We’ll win because we work harder and play smarter than anyone else. I expect those of you willing to give that hundred and ten percent to spend your summer sharpening your skills. We can win. We will win. I won’t accept anything less.”

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