Page 4 of Romancing My Grumpy Goalie

He’s solid—like slamming into a marble statue wrapped in warm skin. The kind of solid you only get from hours in the gym.

He places his hands on my bare arms to steady me. My skin tingles where his hands touch, chemistry zipping between us. He rips his hands off me like he’s been burned. Did he feel that, too?

I don’t have time to ponder what it means because I look down at the empty cup in my hands, the lid askew. No! My coffee! I don’t care about the mess. I just want my drink back. But there is another smell beyond the brewed beans. And it’s something spicy and warm and intoxicating. I look straight up, into the eyes of a god. This man is dangerously gorgeous. He took off his sunglasses to wipe the coffee off of them, revealing the most beautiful mahogany eyes.

But I’ve seen him before. Where? I don’t watch pro soccer.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

I tug off the shirt I wore for layers with my tank top underneath. Most of the coffee got on him, so my shirt is still pretty dry. It’s brown and will do fine to absorb coffee. I pat at the moisture on his rock-hard chest and move down to a set of washboard abs. My hand thumps over each one as I wipe him down. A rumbling vibrates through my shirt as he growls, and the hard, muscular surface moves away from me. I reach in to follow it, and my hands freezes midair.

Oh, no. He’s backing up. I’ve made him uncomfortable. I’m so used to cleaning up my son that I haven’t even stopped to think that this man may not appreciate me invading his space.

He doesn’t even speak. He grunts. And he’s not smiling. Not that I blame him. I just attacked him with my beloved coffee. He has every right to glower at me.

“Mom! He’s the guy from the laundry soap commercial! Lucas Hensley!” Nolan says, jogging up to me.

“Oh, you are!” My face instantly lights on fire.

“Remember? The one you said was really hot with the big muscles as he sniffed all the clothes?”

The coach doesn’t crack a smile. He stands there frowning at me with his eyes all dark and angry as the coffee drips off him.

“Nolan! We don’t talk like that. Don’t you know better than to run your mouth?”

I’m ready to die. My kid has no shame and no filter.

Lucas’ gaze travels over my body for a quick second before taking the shirt from me and using it as a towel to clean up.

I glance down and realize why he’s looking at me like that. I forgot this tank top shows a bit of cleavage, and I’m wearing my push-up bra, which makes my boobs more noticeable. My face heats. He probably thinks I planned all this to come onto him since he’s famous. I was literally grabbing whatever I could find that was clean since I need to do laundry. I can’t exactly put my shirt back on since it’s become a cleaning rag, so now I have to stand around like a hoochie mama. So much for my soccer-mom look.

Thank goodness this guy is only the substitute coach. Because I’ll probably never have to see him again.

TWO

LUCAS

I siton the bench in the locker room and kick off my cleats, sweat dripping down my back from an intense practice session. My knee is killing me, but I don’t bother mentioning it. The last thing I need is someone thinking I’m not qualified to play. Because I am. I just get sore sometimes. But people like to make a big deal out of nothing, so it’s usually best to keep it to myself if my knee hurts. All I want is to get home, relax, and tinker with the remote-control car I’m building. I’m putting in all the upgrades to make it faster.

“Great playing out there.” Coach nods to me. “You’re improving.”

Yeah. But not quickly enough. I grunt in response, and he moves on.

“How’s the knee?” Jace asks, slamming a locker door shut and turning to me.

“It’s fine,” I lie. “How about you? You holding up okay after having the flu?” I peel off my socks, which smell like a cat sprayed on them. I grimace. It’s time to hit the shower.

“Never better.” But he’s pale, and it’s clear he’s as big of a liar as I am. Must run in the family. “How did soccer practice go with the kids?” Jace asks.

“Just swimmingly,” I growl. Especially if you consider how much I was swimming in coffee. And in the blue eyes of that gorgeous brunette with the blonde highlights that was awkwardly flirting with me. But I don’t mention any of that to Jace. He’d probably try to set me up with her or something. I may or may not have noticed she wasn’t wearing a ring and didn’t have a man with her. Not that I plan to do anything with that information. I’m too messed up for a girlfriend. Even if she does look like relationship material. Single moms tend to know how to be responsible adults. It’s that whole “having a kid” thing. I don’t trust people enough to commit.

After showering and getting dressed, I pack up my gym bag with my Roanoke Forge uniform and sling it over my shoulder.

“You want to grab dinner over at Dixie’s Tavern, Lucas?” Jace asks, coming up to me as I’m walking from the locker room.

“I could go for a burger,” I bite out through the pain. Maybe I’ll work on the remote-control car tomorrow night.

We carpooled from Maple Creek since it’s a forty-five-minute drive to Roanoke. Jace is the reason I moved to Maple Creek. When he heard I was joining the Roanoke Forge soccer team, he insisted I needed to live near him in Maple Creek. After living in Atlanta and playing for the Arsenal, it was a bit of a shock. Everything moved slower in Maple Creek.

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