Page 10 of Ready to Score

“Sounds like a shitty book.”

“I figured you’d think so.”

Dunn’s gaze sharpened. “Plus, nobody sayshellaanymore.”

Franny reared back. “Of course they do.”

“No, they don’t. Only people who are my parents’ age say shit like that.”

“You’re so full of it, Dunn.” Franny’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m full of it? You’re the one who showed up tomypractice uninvited.”

Finally, Franny stood up from her chair. She was a couple of inches taller than Dunn, so nose-to-nose was more nose-to-forehead, but still. “Yourpractice? Last time I checked, all you were was an assistant coach.”

Dunn took a small step forward until their bodies were almost pressed together. Franny could feel the faintest brush of the other woman’s breasts against the underside of hers, and her jaw tightened as heat flushed through her. “And lastIchecked, you were fighting way above your weight class. It doesn’t matter how many asses you kiss or how much you flash those little smiles of yours. You have no shot here; I don’t even know why you’re still trying.”

Franny’s eyes moved from Dunn’s face to where Coach Landry had sent the boys to run laps and was staring the two women down with scrutinous eyes from across the field. She smiled, waving a hand at the man, who then started approaching them.

“I don’t know about that. It seems like your boss likes me well enough.” Pointedly, she turned one of her so-calledlittle smileson him.

“Ms. Lim… I see you were serious the other night, huh?”

Hearing him, Dunn spun around so fast she almost lost her balance. Before she could think about it, Franny gripped her arm, steadying her. Then she snatched her hand back as if she’d been burned.

Dunn moved to stand by Coach Landry’s side, as if they were some kind of united front against her.

“Serious as a heart attack, Coach.” Franny made sure to keep her smile bright but not too wide. “I want my chance at a coaching spot.”

“My spot?” Landry asked.

Franny shrugged. “There’s no point in flying if you’re not trying to get up high, is there?”

Coach Landry barked out a laugh that could have been heard from a mile away. “What experience have you got? Have you ever coached at the high school level? Where?”

“I spent three years as the head O-line coach for an AAU youth football team back home in Houston.”

“Texas?” Landry raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, sir. We took home two national championship trophies in that time.”

He grabbed Dunn’s shoulder and gave it a lighthearted shake. “Looks like you might have some competition, after all, Dunn.”

Dunn’s face went so red, Franny thought she might actually pass out. Then her right eye started to twitch.

“We don’t have any positions open right now, obviously,” Landry said. “So I can’t hire you. But this is a public school, so we definitely ain’t strangers to volunteers. After this season… well, we’ll be restructuring some things”—he glanced at Dunn—“so there might be a couple positions to fill. It’ll be a long shot for you to get my job, but shit.” The man chuckled. “Shoot for the stars, and you never know.”

Landry turned to Dunn. “You mind showing her the ropes?”

Dunn paused, swallowing so hard it looked like she had a real frog in her throat. “Of course, Coach.”

After a pat to her arm, Landry walked away, and Dunn waited until he was out of hearing distance before she looked at Franny again. She didn’t say anything, though, and Franny couldn’t keep herself from rubbing her little win in the other woman’s face.

“Looks like that sinkhole is getting bigger, huh?”

Franny had three older brothers. Phillip, Kenny, and Will. Phillip lived and worked in South Korea—Busan, where their parents were from. Kenny had stayed near their parents in Houston, wherehe wrote—and sometimes sold—screenplays. But Will, her closest brother both spiritually and physically, lived with his wife and daughter in Columbia, South Carolina.

Two years ago, when she’d (ridiculously) agreed to follow her ex, Caroline, back to her home state, she’d only done so with the promise that she’d be within driving distance of her brother. Just in case.

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