Caught Up in the Touch (18 page)

The team would walk down the middle of the street bordered by cheering throngs of fans to the stadium. The adoration never failed to get the kids pumped up. Usually he reveled in the knotting tension before kickoff but not tonight. He tapped Alec Grayson on the arm. “Dude, I forgot something. Can you get the boys warmed up if I’m not out in time?”

“Sure thing.”

Logan ignored Alec’s puzzled frown and jogged back into the pavilion. An eerie pall had settled over the building, and his footsteps rang in the silence. The locker combinations were in Dalt’s filing cabinet. Logan retrieved the key from a magnetic holder under the desk and set Scott’s combination to memory, ignoring the niggling sense of wrongness. While Dalt was well within rights to search lockers, Logan didn’t have that authority.

Looking over his shoulder, he slipped back into the locker room and opened Scott’s locker, not even sure what he was looking for. The musty smell of adolescent sweat wafted out. Balled-up workout clothes were shoved on the topmost shelves. With the pads gone, the middle space was empty.

No picture of a girlfriend was taped inside. He poked around the bottom. Empty protein shakes, high-energy goo packets, and empty sport drink bottles. Toiletries were on one shelf, a set of clean clothes on another. He checked behind the clothes.

In the very back, Logan felt a cylindrical object. Carefully, he pulled it out. An empty syringe with no identifying prescription label. Prescription or not, any medication Scott took on a regular basis, even Advil, should be listed, but his record had been blank.

He opened his own locker and slipped the syringe into his duffle, not sure what his next move would be. He debated taking it straight to Dalt, but the program had barely survived a steroid scandal involving the head coach seven years previous.

People became accustomed to the high of winning fast. Anything less than making the playoffs for a third straight year would be considered a failure. With the kind of football fanatics Falcon produced, riding on a past season’s success did not exist. The last thing Dalt needed was a scandal hanging over him and the program.

Plus, Logan liked Scott. He was a good kid and a hard worker at the restaurant. His father Ben was president of the downtown bank, his mother Stephanie a philanthropic force in town. Logan couldn’t go off half-cocked and accuse Scott. He needed absolute proof.

He headed to the field, avoiding the crowd. He wasn’t sure he could smile and accept the pats on the back and the encouragement with his usual easy charm. But once in the stadium and on the field, instead of watching Scott, his gaze went to the stands and locked on Jessica like a heat-seeking missile.

The stadium lights seemed to catch her on fire. Suddenly, as if sensing him, she turned and their eyes met. Too much space separated them. He wanted her next to him, in his arms. Unlike the animated fans around her, she stood calm and composed in the chaos. She would help him dissect the problem, and for the first time, he wanted to lay his troubles bare.

Chapter 13

The noise ebbed and flowed around Jessica like the breaking of waves. She fake smiled and nodded, but she was an outsider, even with Lilliana and the elderly librarians flanking her. Her neck heated, her body attuned to something outside of herself. Intuition had her turning toward the field, her gaze colliding with Logan’s.

She fought the sudden urge to leap over the metal railing and meet him at the fence. He wore a rare frown, and his hands were shoved into his pockets, his stance stiff.

Her heart accelerated. A male voice called his name. Wordless communication passed from him to her. Finally he turned, his attention back to the field. But she sensed something troubled him.

The teams moved to the sidelines and the band marched out, playing the school fight song through the introduction of the team captains and coaches. Everyone stood for the national anthem and the sonorous voice of a preacher giving a long-winded invocation.

Someone behind her yelled, “Tell old Higgs no one’s getting saved tonight.”

Laughter erupted around them as the preacher finished his amens. Jessica sat automatically, but no one else did, so she popped back up. The teams took their places on the field, the Falcons kicking off. Everyone in the crowd started a call and waved their hands high, building the noise and tension, until the ball whooshed into the air. After the other team’s player caught the ball and was tackled, everyone took their seats, the metal bleachers clanging.

As the game progressed, yells and groans and cheers erupted at regular intervals. Even the librarians joined the spectacle. Miss Esmerelda offered jeweled reading glasses to the nearest referee, and Miss Constance threatened bodily harm with her cane. A self-conscious shyness kept Jessica from joining in.

She tried to pay attention to the game, but when she didn’t understand the call or time lagged between plays, her gaze drifted to Logan. He paced the sideline, clapping and patting players on the back or squatting to talk to them.

At halftime, Darcy took the empty seat Lilliana had left and offered Jessica a drink. With her legs sticking to the metal bench, she accepted the Coke.

“A peace offering.”

“Whatever for?”

Darcy leaned closer even though the noise from the marching band would make it difficult for anyone to overhear. “For making you think Logan was a player. I didn’t mean to insinuate that at all. I was curious about you and him, and I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong. I upset you.”

“You didn’t.” Jessica took a swig and picked at the waxy top of the cup.

Darcy made a scoffing sound. “You shot out of the library faster than a buck the first day of hunting season. And Robbie said you looked ready to skin Logan alive.”

Jessica kept her gaze fixed on the band marching around the field. “We worked things out.”

“Good.” She patted Jessica on the knee before moving back to sit with a tall, gorgeous black woman. The teams assembled once again on their respective sidelines, and Lilliana regained her seat as play resumed.

Jessica had a hard time paying attention, her thoughts and eyes constantly wandering to Logan. A few plays later, the crowd gasped collectively.

“Butterfinger receivers,” Lilliana said in a groan and then slipped back into normal conversational tone. “What do you think of your first game experience?”

“It’s … different.” Jessica swept her gaze over the crowd. With a big smile, Ms. Marlene waved from a few rows back, her hair impeccable even in the humidity. A few seats down, Jeb the mechanic gave her a two-finger salute off his ball cap. Darcy caught her eye and gave her a smile. Jessica turned back to the game as the next play unfolded.

A Falcon player with the ball tucked under his arm scampered into the end zone. A touchdown. The crowd erupted, and Lilliana pulled Jessica to her feet. The energy of the crowd became infectious. She cupped her hands around her mouth and hollered. Breathless and grinning, she exchanged high-fives with strangers.

It
was
different from her normal fare of fundraisers and symphonies, but it was also fun and exhilarating. She fit right in. Falcon won and the crowd was rambunctious as they filed out of the stadium. The team had disappeared, along with Logan.

Lilliana grabbed her wrist and pulled her along, even though Jessica was several inches taller. Jessica pulled her to a stop at the bottom of the bleachers. “I’m going to walk over to the pavilion and wait for Logan.”

Lilliana winked and backed away. “I won’t wait up. Have fun.”

Streams of people poured through the gates of the stadium, carrying Jessica down the street. She peeled off with a group of parents heading toward the pavilion. A few parking lot lights illuminated the gathering outside of the double doors. The chatter was vibrant and happy. The lady next to her struck up a conversation, superficial yet friendly, and instead of being condemned to the outskirts, the warm welcome had her laughing and relaxed.

Players trickled out into hugs and slaps on the back. The crowd diminished, and the lady left her to hug a boy Jessica recognized as the young waiter who served her and Logan at Adaline’s.

A dark mass of hair caught Jessica’s attention, and she weaved her way to Darcy. Although her eyebrows popped up, Darcy only said, “Robbie and Logan are usually the last ones out.”

One of the boys sent two thumbs-up in their direction and called out, “I got an A, Miss Darcy.”

“Way to go, Tommy!” In a softer voice, Darcy said, “I help the rising seniors every summer with their book report on
To Kill a Mockingbird.
”

“That’s really nice of you.”

Darcy’s smile was bemused and faraway. “Nice? Guilt is a powerful motivator. Here they come.”

Darcy moved forward to greet her husband, who dropped his duffle, wrapped his arms around her waist, and lifted her off the ground for a long kiss. They moved in tandem toward the parking lot.

Logan swept his gaze around. She stepped forward, gaining his focus. His hair was damp from a shower, and he’d changed into jeans and a button-down. Her new Falcon T-shirt stuck to her back, and the hair at her nape was damp from the muggy night.

He walked over, and without a word or hesitation, he curled himself around her with a long exhale, his face in her hair. A seriousness shrouded him.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

Everything inside of her had attuned to him. “Something’s wrong. Tell me.”

Pulling back, he stared at her. She put on her boardroom “I get what I want” face. He made a scoffing sound and steered them toward his truck.

He didn’t speak until they were in the cab with the engine rumbling. His hands gripped the steering wheel, but he didn’t kick the truck into reverse. “I discovered something in one of my kid’s lockers tonight. Something that could potentially get him kicked off the team.”

“Pot?”

“An empty syringe. Possibly some sort of PED.”

“Like a steroid?” The image of a hairy, East German woman sprang to mind.

“Maybe. The hot drug right now is synthetic human growth hormone, HgH.”

“Is it illegal, like meth?”

“It’s banned. But, more than that, PEDs can be damaging. Especially for someone who hasn’t finished their natural growth cycle yet.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I don’t know much about athletics.”

“No, but you’re smart, and I value your opinion. I like the kid, I know his family. The fallout could affect people I care about. I have no perspective on the situation.”

She was used to men trying to knock her down a peg, one-up her. Tamping down the urge to kiss him on the cheek, she took a deep breath. “Could it be something innocuous like allergy medication or Vitamin B?”

“A slim chance.”

“What happens if you take this to Coach Dalton?”

“Scott would be suspended, pending an investigation.” He rested his head against the seatback and closed his eyes. “Seven years ago, Falcon’s head coach was sent to prison for supplying kids with PEDs. I’m worried suspicion will fall on Dalt. And this kid has a shot at a college football scholarship. If I come forward, I blow that chance to smithereens. Even if he’s cleared, the rumors would blackball him with the scouts.”

“Maybe he’s only got a chance at a scholarship because he’s taking PEDs, which is cheating, right? And twenty years from now, what kind of price will he be paying for this foolishness? He may be too immature to understand the damage he’s inflicting on his body.”

“You’re right. But I should give him a chance to come forward, do the right thing.” He hit the steering wheel with a fist. “How’d he get the drugs?”

She picked at a cuticle, knowing he wouldn’t like her question. “You want the perspective of an outsider, right? What about Robbie Dalton? A win-at-all-costs mentality?”

“Hell no,” he said emphatically. He shifted around and pointed at her. “Not him. Trust me on that.”

She hesitated, staring into his intense brown eyes, and nodded. “I trust your judgment. One of the other coaches, then?”

“Hal Perkins, maybe. He was here when the last scandal rocked the team, but he was cleared.”

“People lie all the time,” she whispered. The knowledge she held close about his father burned her conscience.

“Not everyone.” His soft reply tightened like a vise around her heart, secure yet uncomfortable. The night settled over them. He threw the truck in reverse and headed out of the parking lot. “I have to get to Adaline’s and close up. Friday nights after a win can get wild. You want to come with me? You can start on my invoices or hang out at the bar. Whatever.”

A shower could wait. “Sure. I can plan my attack for Monday.”

Tension seeped out of him, and when he turned on Main Street, his customary smile was back. Adaline’s parking lot was full, people crowding around the front door. He took her hand and pulled her through the gauntlet, shaking hands and fist-bumping people along the way.

They left the chaos of the restaurant floor for the quiet of the back hallway, and she went straight for his spartan office, waving him back toward the kitchens. “Go on, you don’t need to babysit me. Do your work, and I’ll do mine.”

Instead of walking away, he closed the distance between them, wrapped a hand loosely around the front of her neck, and kissed her. A soft, lingering kiss. Her eyes closed, her hand sought his biceps, and she rose on the balls of her feet. He pulled her bottom lip between his, running his tongue along the length. Her pulse jumped against his palm. Could he feel the effect he had on her?

He broke the kiss and backed down the corridor. His hand on the kitchen door, their gazes held. A host of promises reflected back to her. He pushed through the door, a burst of noise reverberating to her until the door swung shut.

Dropping into his chair behind the desk, she familiarized herself with his file-naming system and organization. Or lack thereof. She didn’t find any blatant errors, but his diligence came in spurts, and he was woefully behind.

Even though the work was simple and mundane, she found herself humming while she worked. She’d once found similar joy in her job at Montgomery Industries. Everything had changed when she moved into the executive tier. Her coworkers had been adversaries, her father pitting his favorites against each other like gladiators. Away from the toxicity, she was slowly gaining a new perspective. Becoming Montgomery Industries CFO would have brought her satisfaction but not happiness.