Winner Takes All (15 page)

“Our drinks?” Stella demanded.

Annabelle held a hand up to silence her friend. “I'm sorry, but believe what?”

Dawn meandered toward the soda machine and began filling a paper cup with Coke. “Just that you and Coach discuss things other than the kids.”

The one cup reached its limit, and Dawn stuck another cup to be filled.

“I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Dawn,” Annabelle commented.

The second cup was filled and Dawn placed two plastic lids over the cups. “Oh, I don't either,” she agreed with an airy laugh. “Like you said, this town loves to talk. A lot of it isn't even true. I told you, I don't believe most of it anyway.” She worked the cash register and gave them the total.

Stella had cash thrown down before Dawn could even finish. “Keep the change,” Stella ordered; then she scooped up her drink and nudged Annabelle away from the counter. “That woman is ridiculous.”

Annabelle took a sip of the soda, wishing she'd ordered water when the bubbles mixed with the churning of her stomach.

“Don't listen to a word she says, Annabelle,” Stella warned when Annabelle hadn't said anything. “She and the other one stick their noses in everybody's business because they can't grow out of high school and their husbands ignore them.”

“But what if she's right?” Annabelle mused as they wove around the throngs of people toward the bleachers.

“She's not,” Stella confirmed. “Okay,” she amended. “Let's say, for argument's sake, she is. So what? Since when have you cared what people have thought?”

Yes, that was true. But what if there was a thread of truth to Dawn's prodding, because that's what it had been. That's what she and Rhonda were best at. Finding out people's dirty little secrets and “accidentally” telling half the town. She cared about the team too much to allow whatever was going on with her and Blake to overshadow their success.

And they would be successful. They had to be because they, and Blake, had everything riding on this season.

T
he Bobcats managed to squeeze out a last-minute win, even though they'd been shut out in the first half. The defense had managed to pull their shit together and did their jobs effectively enough to push back the offense. Cody had executed two beautiful fake passes and the Bobcats had scored two touchdowns in the fourth quarter.

Considering where the team had been during the first week of practice, Blake was pleased. Cautiously optimistic. Not that he was going to have play-off T-shirts made just yet. But if they could keep playing the way they played tonight, they stood a chance. Provided their players could stay healthy. Scott Porter had to be taken out in the third quarter due to tightness in his hamstring.

When Scott had walked off the field, Annabelle's warning had flashed through Blake's mind. Blake had meant what he'd said about not being able to bench Scott. At the same time, Blake knew Scott was one injury away from being taken out for the season. The kid's health weighed as heavily on his mind as the team's performance. As the coach, not only was Blake responsible for the team's record, but also for the kids' safety and well-being. They needed Scott, but Blake didn't want to push him past what his body was capable of.

The parking lot was almost empty as he left the field house. It was late, and his body felt drained from the crash after the adrenaline rush from their win. And his knee was throbbing. Thank goodness he had some Oxy in his car.

Blake strolled toward his truck, keys dangling from one hand and his gym bag in the other. As he approached, he noticed a figure leaning against the driver's side door.

A petite, luscious figure in a pair of tight jeans and a Blanco Valley High hooded sweatshirt.

Just the sight of Annabelle turned his beat-up body on high alert. Over the past week, Blake hadn't been able to get that kiss out of his mind. Not only the feel of her lips pressed to his, but also how perfectly her body fit with his. Each one of her curves had molded seamlessly against his harder and bigger one, as though they were two pieces of the same puzzle.

And look at him with all the lame metaphors.

Blake approached the truck, twirling his keys around in his hand. Because if he didn't keep them busy, he'd yank her away from the door and kiss her again.

“Hi,” she greeted when he stopped in front of her.

He tossed his bag in the bed of the truck. “Hey,” he replied. “You're here awfully late.”

“I wanted to hang around and congratulate some of the kids. You guys played a good game tonight,” she told him.

“Thanks.” Why did her praise have to mean so much to him? The parents and the school district was what mattered. Not some hazel-eyed opinionated goddess.

Annabelle scraped the toe of her tennis shoe along the ground. For some reason Blake found the movement endearing.

He was turning into such a pussy.

“I spoke to Scott's parents and he's going to be coming to my studio three days a week now.”

Blake nodded. “That's good.” Man, he was an idiot. One kiss with this woman and now he didn't know what to say to her.

“Blake,” she said on a sigh. She pushed away from the truck and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I'm sorry,” she told him. “About before.”

“For what? The kiss or the apology?”

She blinked at him and inhaled a deep breath. “For the way I acted afterward,” she clarified. “To be completely honest, I'm not sorry for kissing you. I thought that maybe…” Her words trailed off. “I thought I had taken you off guard and acted inappropriately. I didn't want you to think I was being too forward. The sorry just kind of popped out before I could think.”

Blake pocketed his keys. “You did take me off guard. But that didn't mean I didn't like it as much as you did. I think we both know I did.” She'd been pressed up against him hard enough to feel the evidence between his thighs.

As though sensing his thoughts, Annabelle's gaze dropped down, lingering long enough to elicit a reaction. “I think it's safe to say we both liked it. A lot,” she added. “Probably too much, actually.”

“How much is too much?” Because that was part of his confusion.

One of her shoulders moved. “To be honest, I'm not sure. I'm still trying to figure that one out.”

“Maybe we should try it again, just to see,” he suggested.

Her attention lowered to his lips. “I don't think that's a good idea, Blake.”

“Why?” He took a step toward her, but she didn't back up. “Are you afraid you'll realize how good we could be together?”

“Actually, yes.” She placed a hand on his chest when he leaned closer. “I have trust issues, Blake.”

“Really?” he asked with an arched brow. “I couldn't tell. So what happened? Some dickhead didn't realize what a good thing he had with you?”

A slow smile graced her beautiful features, as though warmed by his roundabout compliment. “Something like that, yeah.”

Any man who trampled over the heart of Annabelle Turner didn't deserve two seconds of her time.

She lifted a hand again, and for a moment, he thought she was going to push him farther away. Instead, her palm rested on his chest, her fingers lightly tracing the edges and grooves. “So now are you going to tell me that you're no better? That I need to stay away from you?”

Her question prompted a smile from him. “I wasn't going to say so, but yeah. I'm no good for you. You should stay away.” His head dipped so the tips of their noses touched. “You're standing next to my truck, Annabelle.”

“Maybe that was my plan all along.”

Blake gave a small shake of his head. “You're a conundrum, Ms. Turner. You think this is a bad idea, and yet here you are. Telling me you have trust issues and rubbing yourself all over me like a cat in heat.”

“I can't figure it out either. I know I should stay away from you, but…”

He nudged his face closer to hers, so their mouths were a breath away from each other. “But what?”

Her throat moved up and down as she swallowed. “I just think—”

“Why don't you stop thinking for once?” he demanded and wrapped an arm around her trim waist, bringing her flush up against him. Just as she opened her mouth to respond to that, he closed the remaining distance between them, fusing their lips together. In that instant, something inside him exploded. The animal she'd been teasing since he met her lashed out, and their kiss went from subtle to hard.

He yanked her closer and sucked her startled gasp into his mouth, along with her sweet tongue. Her body, so soft and touchable, in all the right places, was plastered to his. Pressing and touching and turning him on so damn much he felt like they were about to go up in flames.

And when she tunneled her hand into his hair, the rest of his logical thinking went out the window. The kind of rational thought that told him they were a bad idea. That she obviously did have trust issues, just as she told him, and he had demons of his own. A relationship between them couldn't go anywhere. At least beyond the physical and he wasn't sure that would be enough for her. Just as he wasn't sure he could give her more than that. He was still on the path of putting his life back together. There wasn't enough room in it yet for anything else. Especially the kind of time and effort a relationship with Annabelle Turner would need.

Her tongue slid along his, infusing more heat into his body and momentarily making him forget about the pain in his knee. About his uncertain future and whether or not he could really bring the Bobcats a winning season. Blake was a winner, always had been, and the thought of losing anything made his blood run cold.

But being with Annabelle made all that go away. With her, there was no winning and losing. Only Blake Carpenter, a man with flaws and scars and a beating heart beneath his chest.

When he'd returned to Blanco Valley, he'd just been through the worst time in his life. A time he should have left behind him, but he hadn't. It had followed him home, trailing after him wherever he went, reminding him he wasn't invincible. That he wasn't the football god he thought he was. Annabelle had a way of dissolving that. With one touch of her hands, with one sly look beneath those dark lashes, she chased away his failures and restored a small semblance of the man he used to be.

He liked it. And he liked her for it. Way too much.

Just as the kiss was getting good and heated, she pulled away from him. Slowly inching back, but leaving her hands on him. Blake didn't know if she realized how close she'd pressed herself to him. Not that he cared.

“Yeah, I can see what you mean about that being a bad idea,” he muttered.

She smiled and ran her tongue along her lower lip, which was moist and swollen. “So, maybe it's a good idea. But still kind of bad.”

Blake removed his hand from her lower back and skimmed the pad of his thumb over her jawbone. “Now you're not making sense.” But he totally knew what she meant.

“Because you muddle my brain. You make me say stupid things.”

His mouth turned up in a grin. “I'll take that as a compliment,” he told her.

She removed her hands from his hair and stepped back. “I can't do a relationship right now.”

Blake didn't believe that for a second. “Who says I'm looking for a relationship?” he asked, instead of saying what he'd been thinking.

“No one,” she answered with a shake of her head. “I just felt like I needed to make that clear.”

“I think we both know you're not built for casual flings,” Blake said.

She nodded, but something dark flashed across her eyes. “There you go again, thinking you know me so well.”

He rolled one shoulder. “I don't hear you denying it.”

She didn't say anything for a moment. “Okay, so why don't you do relationships? What is so wrong with them?” she countered, as though she couldn't think of a response to his accusation. Probably because she couldn't.

“There's nothing wrong with them. They're just not for me,” he told her.

“Why is that? Because some gold digger ditched you when the going got rough?”

Exactly. But she didn't need to know that. If things remained casual, there was no chance of his balls being extracted from his body.

“Excuse me for pointing out the obvious,” she went on, “but you should take your own words to heart. You know, the ones where you say we should just go for it?”

One side of his mouth kicked up because damn if she didn't have him on that one. “I don't remember saying anything like that.”

“Maybe not those exact words, but it's what you meant,” she told him.

Shit. Hadn't he told himself she was smart and too meddlesome for her own good? The woman kept getting inside his head and taking the words right out of his mouth. Yeah, he did want to go for it with her.

The problem was, he didn't know what
it
was.

They had two different definitions of relationship. He wanted casual. She told him that's what she wanted, too, but he wasn't so sure about that.

He stepped back from her and winced when he placed too much pressure on his bad knee. Her gaze dropped down as though sensing his pain.

“I told you I could help you with your pain,” she reminded him.

He reached around her and opened the truck door. “I told you I've got it under control.”

“With pills?”

As she said the words, he reached across the front seat to the glove compartment. Feeling her eyes on him, scrutinizing every move he made, he withdrew the Oxy, pried open the lid, and tossed back a pill.

“They just help with the pain,” he told her after turning to face her again. Maybe if he said the words enough he'd start to believe them. That he didn't have a problem that needed attention.

She lowered her gaze to the bottle still clutched in his hand. Ironically symbolic of how he couldn't let them go. Man, he was such a mess. First he poked and prodded a woman who not only messed with his head, but also had his number down so well that she practically wrote the damn thing.

Without warning, she snatched the bottle out of his hand. Surprisingly, he didn't try to take it back. Had it been anyone else, Brandon or Cameron, he'd have tackled them to the ground to save face. With Annabelle he had no inhibitions. Because she'd see through them anyway.

“OxyContin?” she asked with a lifted brow. “You shouldn't still need this stuff, Blake.”

Yeah, no shit.

“How do you know that?” he countered.

“Because I don't live under a rock. I watch the news often enough to know when you had your surgery and should have been off Oxy a year ago.” She held the bottle up. “Why are you still taking these?”

He yanked the bottle out of her hands. “I'd think that'd be obvious. Especially to a woman who claims to know everything about me.” Yeah, his words were harsher than they needed to be. And yeah, the flash of hurt in her eyes was like a jab to the ribs. But he didn't need her figuring him out. Because then she'd see him for the fraud he was.

“I never claimed to know everything about you, Blake, but that stuff is meant as a temporary pain reliever immediately following a major surgery. You have a problem if you're still taking it.”

He turned from her, not wanting her to see how right she was. She placed a hand on his upper back. The soothing gesture relaxed him, yet at the same time put him on edge. “I can help you, Blake. You really need to talk to someone if you're addicted to pain pills.”

Her words shouldn't have meant anything to him. They should have infuriated him. Simply for the fact that she'd seen it so easily when he'd worked so hard to pretend he wasn't a complete mess. Another reason he needed to stay away from her.

Annabelle Turner had her finger on his pulse, reading and seeing him for the person he really was. In reality, it should have pleased him. To have a woman see past the dollar signs and the icon the American public had made him to be. But in truth, it scared the shit out of him. There was no pretending with her. He was exposed, raw and vulnerable and weak.