Page 7 of The Way We Win

She is definitelynotteasing, and I’m not standing around turning bright red in front of Sheriff Grizz.

I might think Jack Bradford is the best-looking thing I’ve ever seen and the kindest and the best mentor to my son, but I’m not having the entire Bradford clan meddling in my love life—or ruining any chance I might have with him, which up to now seems like none.

“Call me if you need anything,” Garrett yells after me, and I wave a hand over my head.

When I get to my car, my eyes slide to the plastic bag on my passenger’s seat. Inside it is a pair of prescription glasses.

They’re pretty mild, but Dylan has a point. It couldn’t hurt to have a pair on hand, and I’ve been experimenting with messy, updo hairstyles.

A laugh huffs through my lips, and I shake my head at my own self for getting sucked into their silly, match-making conspiracies.

As if I even know what Jack Bradford likes.

2

Jack

“Iwant to see you hustle out there.” My tone is sharp as the boys line up facing each other. “The Dolphins will be ready for you. Show me you’re ready for them.”

In the entire school district it’s the Crystal Shores Dolphins and us, and every year, the rivalry gets more intense.

We’ve been out here for a week, and I’ve just about got the starting lineup set. We’ve got several freshmen on the defensive line this year, but our offensive line is full of seniors. I’d rather have a strong defense, but we’ll get there.

Offense scores points. Defense wins games.

I stand on the sidelines with my arms crossed and my cap lowered to help me focus. Buddy Outlaw, my assistant coach, is with my brother Zane drilling the D-line boys. I could use Garrett out here working with them, but he’s riding around in his truck keeping Newhope safe from jaywalkers and litter bugs.

Lord knows we don’t have any real criminals around here.

The brief thought tightens my throat, and I study Austin Sinclair calling plays and leading the team like he’s been doing it all his life.

My protective instincts rise, knowing he has no idea his dad is out of jail, that his mother is on guard, and that basically the entire Bradford clan is on low-key alert watching over them.

The idea of some ex-con drug dealer roaming the highways, possibly searching for her has me sleeping poorly at night and on edge during the day.

Allie’s a hard worker like her son. She’s good and honest. She takes pride in her work at the library, and she’s a great help to Dylan at the restaurant.

She has a sweet smile, and her pretty blue eyes are framed with thick, dark lashes. Her shoulder-length brown hair has a slight wave, and when she stands in the sun, it shines auburn.

In the summer, she wears cutoff jeans that hug her round ass and show off her muscular legs, and the way the Cooters & Shooters logo stretches across her full breasts…

Clearing my throat, I grab the reins on my wandering mind. Jesus, I’m out here sweating my ass off at training camp. Last thing I need is to get hotter.

Still, I can’t deny whenever I see her, my chest muscles tense. She always walks over to speak or to make a joke or to offer me a drink, or to thank me for helping with her son, and I always do my best not to touch her or put my arm around her or pull her close.

Austin’s a good kid, and even though he’s a teenage boy, he has plans. He wants to get into a good school and have a good career. He wants to take care of his mom, and I’m proud of him for that. His dad might be a shithead, but Austin shows no signs of following in those footsteps.

They came to Newhope to escape a bad situation, and when the time comes, Austin will move on to something better. Allie should move with him, and I should keep my mind and my hands to myself.

Allie’s too strong and too sweet, and as much as she appeals to me, she’s too close to my family. I know from personalexperience my private tastes aren’t for everyone, and I won’t take that chance with her.

These thoughts make me restless and frustrated and angry, and I’ve got a crowd of parents in the stands behind me analyzing every decision I make. I don’t have time to wrestle with my feelings—my horniness, more like.

I need to keep my head in the game.

These boys come here to play for the son of legendary hometown hero Art Bradford. They hang on my decisions to help them rise above difficult circumstances or to help them land scholarships.

I take it very seriously—and all their dads, uncles, and grandparents are ready to bend my ear if I don’t put their son in the game. Not to mention the moms who constantly hound me about safety.

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