Don stopped at the door to talk to a girl, and Zach continued through the halls of the school to the cafeteria, which had been decorated with paper cutouts of each boy’s jersey. The boosters had set up a table and were selling pennants and foam fingers. Zach grabbed a strawberry ice-cream cone and took a big bite out of the top. Baskin-Robbins might have thirty-one flavors, but he was a strawberry man. Always had been.

“Did you catch the game last Monday?” one of the boosters asked him, as he wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

He didn’t have to ask which game. Not in the heart of Cowboy country. “Sure did. Romo looks good in the pocket this year.” He shoved a hip into a vending machine and talked ball for several more minutes before Joe entered the cafeteria, followed by Tiffany, Kendra, and one of the other dancers. Cindy Ann’s girl maybe. Adele wasn’t with them. Not that he cared one way or the other. Just a mild observation.

He took a big bite out of his ice cream. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to give himself a brain freeze. “Denver is playin’ Pittsburgh Saturday night,” he said, as Joe walked toward him. Tiffany had some sort of dance-team sleepover that night, and pizza, beer, and a ball game with the guys sounded good to Zach.

Joe smiled and rocked back on the heels of his Tony Lamas. “I have a date Saturday night.”

“Good for you.” If anyone needed to get laid, it was Joe. Hell, maybe even more than he did. Zach took a big bite of his cone. “With Cindy Ann?”

“No, that writer.” Joe shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “The one with the curly hair and great behind. She was at your barbecue last weekend.”

“Adele?” Zach swallowed, and his brain froze, but he wasn’t sure it was from the ice cream. Adele couldn’t go out with Joe. She belonged to Zach. He straightened away from the vending machine as if he’d been jerked by invisible strings and threw the rest of his cone in a lined garbage can.

“Yeah. I think I’ll take her somewhere nice. Try and impress her.” Joe grinned, and joked, “Maybe get her good and drunk so she’ll come home with me.”

Normally Zach would have laughed, but he suddenly wasn’t in a laughing mood. No, he was in the mood to kick Joe’s ass, which was a strange feeling for Zach, who’d never been a particularly possessive guy. Adele wasn’t his, and he didn’t know where the feeling that he wanted to kick anyone’s ass was coming from. She could do whatever the hell she pleased. Joe could do whatever he pleased, too. They could do what they pleased together, and it wasn’t any of Zach’s business.

He clapped Joe on the shoulder as he walked around him. “Have fun.”

Chapter 8

Zach’s lengthy strides carried him back through the empty gym toward the coach’s office. To get there he had to pass through a long hall lined with glass cases, which were filled with trophies and team photos dating back to 1953, the year Cedar Creek High opened its doors.

A stack of game footage waited for him on his desk, and he wanted to study the Amarillo offense a few more times before tomorrow night’s game. If the Sandies had a weakness, it was their running game.

As Zach stepped into the hall, his gaze landed on Adele and Cindy Ann, the only other people around. He paused for several seconds before continuing toward them.

“That was the one and only year I was in flag corps,” Adele said, pointing to an old photo and plaque behind the glass. “My dad told me I looked like one of the soldiers from The Wizard of Oz.”

“I was in gymnastics most of my life,” Cindy Ann said, and glanced up at the sound of Zach’s bootheels on the linoleum. “Hey, Zach.”

“Cindy Ann.” Zach looked into Adele’s eyes. Those captivating eyes that sometimes turned a deeper blue. “Hello, Adele.”

“Zach.”

“Weren’t the Stallionettes great tonight?” Cindy Ann asked.

At the moment, he couldn’t recall. “They danced their little hearts out.”

Cindy Ann turned to Adele. “Well, I’ll let you go so you can get to work.” She adjusted an armadillo bag hanging off one shoulder. “And remember, if you ever decide to write more books about the Brannigan fairies, I’d love to read them.”

“I’ll think about it. Thanks for taking Kendra home.”

“You’re welcome.” She walked toward the door, and said over her shoulder, “Bye, Zach.”

“See ya.” He lowered his gaze from Adele’s face, down her throat and the round swells of her breasts beneath her thin sweater to the lower right side of her belly. “Are you still into fairies?”

“Not so much these days.” She moved to step around him, but his hand on her arm stopped her.

“That’s too bad,” he said, and looked back up into her face. With no more than the touch of her arm beneath his hand, a hot ball of lust hit him behind the button fly of his jeans. “I have a few fond memories of kissing that fairy you have tattooed just above your panties.”

Her lips parted and color rose up her cheeks. “That was a long time ago.”

“You keep saying that.”

“It’s true.”

“True but memorable. Right up there with winning the Super Bowl. Or throwing that fifty-yarder to DaShaun Wilson in the last three seconds of the game against Chicago. And, honey, that was the perfect spiral. ESPN still shows that clip.” If they’d been somewhere more private, he would have given serious thought to falling to his knees and getting reacquainted with her fairy, but she was right. It had been a long time ago. Several lifetimes, and he looked into her face, seeing the resemblance to the girl he’d once known and the differences, too. Her mouth was a little wider and her lips softer than he remembered. Her pale skin was still smooth and her hair wild, even when she tried to tame it. Her eyes were the same. The same blue that did things to his insides when she looked at him.

“Joe tells me you have a date.” Zach couldn’t recall ever feeling so possessive before. Not over a woman. Any woman.

“That’s right.”

“First the redhead, and now Joe.” He moved his hand up her arm and shoulder to the side of her neck. Beneath his thumb, he felt the quickening beat of her pulse. “Why?”

“They must think I’m nice and want to spend time with me.”

They didn’t think she was nice. They thought she was hot, and the time they wanted to spend with her was in bed. Maybe he was projecting his own wants, but he didn’t think he was alone. “I know why they ask you out. I’m not so clear on why you say yes.”

Her brows lowered as if he was crazy. He felt crazy. “Why wouldn’t I say yes?”

“Because you don’t really want to be with them, Adele.” There were a million reasons, all of them good, why he shouldn’t want Adele Harris again. At the moment, none of them mattered. He didn’t give a rat’s ass as his hands cupped her face. “You want to be with me.”

The corners of her full mouth turned downward. “You’re still as arrogant and full of yourself as you ever were.”

He smiled. “Probably.”

“That wasn’t a compliment!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m right.”

She wrapped her hands around his wrists. “No, Zach. You’re mistaken. I don’t want to be with you.”

If she’d wanted him to stop, she’d said the exact wrong thing. He looked into her eyes, a subtle shade darker then they’d been a moment ago, and felt her pulse kick up a notch. “You’re not any better a liar now than you used to be.” He turned his face to the side to keep the bill of his hat from hitting her forehead and kissed her. A nice soft kiss that belied the savage lust beating his chest, pounding his groin, and urging him to push her up against the trophy case. Instead, he lightly pressed his mouth into hers, and his thumb brushed her cheek. Her lips parted with a little gasp, and she pulled his breath into her lungs. She put her hand on his chest, and the warmth of her palm spread fire across his skin and twisted his belly with pleasure and pain. She exhaled against his mouth, a slight puff of warm air that turned the pleasure and pain into an almost mindless need.

Adele pulled away, and Zach’s hand fell to his side. Within her chest, she felt her heart pounding, and she could hardly breathe. She looked into Zach’s sexy, sleepy eyes and she remembered his sneaky ways from fourteen years ago. How his light, teasing touch had ruthlessly made her want him even more. “You’re slick.”

He actually smiled as he reached for her. “Thank you.”

She took a step backward, out of his reach. “Again-not a compliment, Zach!” Every cell in her body was on fire. All he had to do was touch her, and every nerve ending twisted into a ball of yearning.

His hand fell to his side. “Honey, come here.”

She shook her head and took another step backward. “I don’t trust you.”

“Baby, you don’t trust yourself.”

That was true. She didn’t trust herself not to give in to his sneaky, slick ways, and that just made her mad. “What’s the matter, Zach? Can’t you find a willing woman to harass?”

Instead of getting angry like she’d intended, he laughed. “Finding willing women has never been a problem for me.”

“God, you can’t help yourself. You’re a pathological bragger.” She held her hand up and took another step back. “Not a compliment.”

“Arrogant. Slick. Pathological bragger. Anything else wrong with me?”

“You don’t have all night.”

“I’ve got ten minutes.”

“Not enough time.” She took another step back and stopped by the sign to the girls’ bathroom.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” He hooked his thumbs inside the front pockets of his jeans and drew her attention to the huge bulge beneath his button fly. “The right man could have you in the zone and screaming Hail Marys in ten minutes.”

He turned her insults into foreplay. Worse, it was working. She licked her lips and her brain went kind of fuzzy. “I’m not Catholic.”