Win Me Over Page 3

  Bennett nodded. “Listen, I know you can’t turn your feelings off, but learn to use them to your advantage; don’t let your anger control you. Got it?” Bennett asked, wishing he weren’t speaking from experience. Tate nodded. “Well, now that we got that squared away, I wanted to officially let you know you’re starting tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Coach, I appreciate it.” A genuine look of intense relief washed over the boy’s face. And that’s what he was, a boy, not even eighteen, but the pressure on these young athletes was incredible. “My dad’s been giving me hell this week.”

  It killed Bennett to hear it, but he wasn’t surprised. Why couldn’t some parents understand that it wasn’t healthy or wise to live, eat, and breathe only one thing? Football was a game and only a game.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Tate. I know you wanna make your dad proud, but you play ball for you, no one else. It’s not all about being the star of the show. No one wins football championships on his own.”

  Tate’s padded shoulders slumped. “My dad doesn’t see it that way.”

  “No disrespect to your father, but sometimes he’s got shit backwards in his head.” Bennett wanted to add a few other choice phrases but managed to hold them in. Tate’s father was the only parent in the house, unfortunately. Bennett was pretty sure Grayson was also an alcoholic. “Now go long and show me what I’m dealing with tomorrow. Put your frustration behind that ball.”

  Nearly two hours later, the team was exhausted. Bennett’s favorite hat was soaked with sweat from his standing under the early September heat, his forearms looked a little red, and his leg ached like a son of a bitch.

  Afternoon practices were long and intense but much better than they’d been when Bennett had started at Preston. The coach before Bennett had held practice twice a day, morning and afternoon. That had been his first change. He switched to two-a-days only during spring ball. He figured the pressure of schoolwork, winning games, and normal practice was enough for the fall season.

  That had been accepted begrudgingly, but his other changes? Not so much. He’d completely thrown the community for a loop when he started preaching to the boys that football wasn’t everything. Yeah, he knew that wasn’t always the norm for coaches, but he took this concept seriously. Another unpopular change was mandatory 2.8 G.P.A on Friday afternoon or they couldn’t play that night. He knew it was higher than most schools, even higher than the NCAA, but this was high school and if they couldn’t handle high school work and football how could they ever manage college? He even lectured all the teachers about favors. His boys didn’t need special treatment. They also had to serve the community instead of their community serving them—as was so common with small-town athletes.

  Bennett could only assume that considering his background, the town hadn’t expected his ideals, but everything had turned out for the best, and he’d gotten them on his side eventually. The state championship his first year had helped considerably. And the two since then. It also didn’t hurt that the team always won their division. If any of them had stopped to consider Bennett’s own personal situation, they would see exactly why the coach felt the way he did. Working hard was great. Passion was important. But things could be ripped away from you at any time.

  These young men needed something else; their whole life couldn’t be football. If it worked out for them, if they were one of the very few lucky ones who ended up in the NFL making millions? Great. If not, a backup plan was in place. Statistically speaking, all of them would probably need it. Bennett did have two former players just starting their first season in the NFL and about three more at universities and on their way. But he wanted every boy in college after they left his program. He wanted to be more than the guy who taught them plays and ran drills. He wanted to make them into well-rounded men. Be a positive influence in their lives. Try to keep them from making some of the mistakes he did. His biggest of which had been thinking that football was everything and the only dream worth striving for was making millions in the pros.

  A backup plan was necessary.

  Two

  Callie knocked on Principal Jensen’s door. He’d peeked his head into the gym during practice to ask if she’d swing by his office on her way out. So here she was. Curious and, admittedly, a little nervous. Getting called to the office normally wasn’t a good sign.

  “Ah, Callie, thanks for coming by.” He lifted his hand and motioned to the chair across from him. She sat and folded her hands in her lap, trying to show confidence she wasn’t really feeling at the moment.

  “I hope nothing’s wrong,” she said with an awkward smile.

  “Heavens no, of course not. Relax.” He chuckled, his bearded double chin shaking against his tie. “Sorry, I should have made that clear earlier.”

  Callie let out a breath and laughed along with him. “Well, that’s a relief.”

  “Let me assure you that everyone’s been very happy with you so far. The girls winning that award at camp … what was it?”

  “Actually, there were several. They received a Superior rating for their home routine, our captains won a Silver Award, the team received a Spirit Stick for every day of the camp, and we had two All-American nominees.” She smiled. She knew the man probably had no idea what any of that meant, but it didn’t matter. She was just impressed he knew anything at all. In her limited experience, it wasn’t unusual for the dance team to not get the respect they deserved. Many schools didn’t even consider it a sport. Instead it was labeled as an activity or club, even though the girls were incredibly dedicated and worked their asses off not just for a season but for the entire year.

  “Of course. Wonderful job. On that note, I actually have a favor to ask you, and I’ll state up front that it’s asking a lot, but I need help.”

  Well, that sounded grim. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

  “Are you familiar at all with the Millard Country Club?”

  “Sure. I mean, I’m not a member,” she teased, and they both laughed. “But yeah, I’ve delivered some baked goods there before. That is, before it flooded this spring.”

  “What a shame that was. Well, in October they will be having a huge fund-raiser. They do an event every year, but being as this is their grand reopening after the remodel, this one is extra-special. This year’s theme is some sort of TV dancing competition. Do you watch those shows?”

  She couldn’t help her grin. “Are you kidding? I love them, never miss.”

  “Perfect. I was hoping you might say that. Maybe this will just work out perfectly. Here’s the thing: they want the event to bring a lot of support from the community and so they’re trying to get some local celebrity types to participate. You know how these things are. Anyway, they’ve asked our beloved Coach Clark to participate. Unfortunately … he said no.”

  Principal Jensen gave her a knowing look. Except she had no idea what he was implying. “That’s too bad. It sounds like fun.”

  “Oh good, I’m glad you think so. You see, I assumed maybe Coach Clark wasn’t interested because, well, you know, he’s a guy. But then I thought maybe it’s because he’s afraid he wouldn’t win. He likes to win things.”

  She couldn’t figure out what his refusal to do the fund-raiser had to do with her. Callie didn’t know a thing about Coach Clark; in fact, she’d never even met the man. She only knew he was the head football coach because everyone in town was obsessed with the team. Of course, football teams never lacked in the respect department. So typical.

  “Well, I’m going to be frank with you, Callie. The past two dance team coaches were fired for inappropriate behavior.”

  She jerked her head back. Whoa, that was quite a left turn they’d just taken. What was he implying now? She felt her inner defense start to rise.

  “I’d heard the rumors about Jane before me”—and how they had also included a district administrator funny Jensen didn’t mention that bit—“but I can assure you that I—”

  Principal Jensen put up a hand. “Callie, you’v
e given me no reason to worry about you. My point is this: The school has not been shed in the best light the past few years in regards to some of its coaching and administrative staff. On top of that, Coach Clark has failed to win the Evan Award from the coaching association the past three years that he’s been nominated, and I know he deserves it. I really believe that if he’d do this community fund-raiser it would clinch it for him. And … well, it would look good for the school, too. Maybe help our state ratings.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. I mean, if he likes to win, it sounds like he better put his dancin’ shoes on.” She chuckled, beginning to get a little uneasy.

  Principal Jensen grinned. “Yes. That’s where I thought you could come in.”

  Oh shit. “Oh?”

  “I was hoping that if you agreed to be Coach Clark’s partner, he would participate.”

  Her eyebrows hit the ceiling. “Be his partner?” This guy had to be joking. The football coach? Surely he had a wife … or even a daughter who could dance with him? “I’m not so—”

  “I’d consider it a huge favor.”

  Oh no. She just couldn’t. Life had gotten stressful enough as it was. As much as the idea of a Celebrity Dance Off–inspired competition appealed to her, she just really couldn’t commit. She opened her mouth to say just that, but he cut her off.

  “I really need this favor, Callie. You know, at the last PTA meeting some of the moms were complaining that the dance team’s budget had been awfully small the past few years. I got a small grant reserved. I might be happy to pass it on to the team to use for some new uniforms.”

  Callie chewed on her lip. Now things were getting sketchy. Bribery had never sat well with her. She’d been a witness to all kinds of manipulation and backstabbing on the pageant circuit, and she hated it. But damn it, this wasn’t just about her but also her girls. They had a fund-raiser in a few weeks—a dance clinic for younger girls—but this being her first year coaching, Callie had no idea what kind of money to expect. She swallowed.

  He smiled. He had her, and he damn well knew it.

  “If Coach Clark already said no to the country club, why do you think he’ll change his mind now?”

  Principal Jensen looked sheepish. “The problem is that … I took it upon myself to go ahead and sign him up anyway. Told them he’d changed his mind and said yes. They even scheduled it on a Thursday evening so he wouldn’t miss a game. They were so excited, and if he turns them down now it will make us all look bad.”

  In other words, it would make Principal Jensen look bad. Callie didn’t know what to think. This was quite a manipulation for something that seemed rather insignificant to her … school ratings, a coaching award. But the thought of announcing new uniforms to her team made her happy.

  Could she win a dance competition? Hell yes, every day of the week and twice on Sundays. Did she have time for another project? Absolutely not. Never mind that this coach would probably be a horrible dancer, old and uncoordinated … oh lord. Just thinking about it made her wince.

  “He’ll need himself a partner, one that will give him a good chance of winning,” Principal Jensen interrupted her thoughts.

  Callie blew out a breath. “This could backfire on you; have you considered that?”

  “Absolutely, but I have faith in you. When you talk with him I’d start with all the positives, let him know that you’re a very experienced dancer. He should feel better about it then. His plan period is seventh hour.”

  “Wait a second.” Her eyes went wide again and she pointed at her own chest. “You expect me to break this news to him?”

  “I just thought maybe he’d be more likely to say yes to … well, you know. You’re a cute girl. I don’t mean that in any inappropriate way, I’m just thinking since he’s a man—”

  Callie lifted a hand to stop Principal Jensen from going any further. It was always mind-boggling when a man didn’t even realize how offensive and sexist his comments were. Even more mind-boggling that women were used to putting up with their idiocy. And to think he’d just reminded her of the last two dance team coaches’ inappropriate behavior. Poor women, they hadn’t stood a chance. “Listen, I make no promises, but I’ll try.”

  * * *

  She should refuse, Callie thought to her herself as she made her way down the science wing of Preston High School. She was running behind and now had only ten minutes until the first Pep Assembly started. A harsh reminder of why this was a bad idea: she didn’t have time for it. But here she was, with ten minutes to convince this no doubt masochistic and old-school coach to be her dance partner.

  She’d lain in bed last night stewing over it. It went against everything she believed in, because at the end of the day Principal Jensen had asked her to do extra work just to make a man look good. Not even just one man … but two! Unbelievable.

  Part of her wanted to march into the office and give Principal Jensen a piece of her mind on not only his style of asking for help but also his assumption that he could so easy manipulate and bribe her.

  The problem was the other part of her, the one that heard only “dancing competition” and immediately went into let’s win this bitch mode. That part was in the lead, and she couldn’t help it. Whether she liked it or not, she thrived on competition—damn her mother and all those pageants.

  The only way Callie could handle it was to do things on her own terms. She knew she could easily whip this old dude into shape and make him at least good enough to get them a win. Not that she wanted to have an ego about it, but let’s face it: the man was often the foundation of a dance, while the woman made it look good. This was doable; the coach would just have to let her make all the rules and she would make sure they won, which was what both of them would obviously want.

  Callie blew out a deep breath as she scanned the nameplates on door after door. She was prepared to turn on the charm, and yet she wouldn’t beg him either. If he adamantly said no she would just take it as fate intervening on behalf of her sanity.

  Finally locating Coach Clark’s classroom at the end of the hall, she peeked through the small glass window. It looked just like every other science room gracing America’s schools. Tall tables, stools, and soapstone countertops. Boring.

  She glanced down at her skirt and sandaled heels to make sure she was in order, gave the wooden door a rap with her knuckles, and made her way in.

  At first glance the room appeared to be empty, but after a second she heard the faint sound of a football game and turned to the head of the classroom. A man sat at the desk, head down. He was watching something on his phone and hadn’t heard her enter.

  “Excuse me,” she said, hoping not to startle him. No such luck. His head jerked up in surprise and their eyes met.

  Holy. Shit. This man was gorgeous.

  “Can I help you?” he asked. She shivered at the deep timbre of his voice, low and rumbly, with just a hint of a southern accent. This could not be who she was looking for.

  “Umm, yes.” A grin played at her lips and she gave her head a light shake as she walked closer to his desk. “I’m sorry. I’m looking for Coach Clark. Do you know where I can find him?”

  He stood slowly and stepped in her direction. She was almost certain he winced just the slightest bit as he rounded the desk, but he concealed it quickly with a tight smile. “You’ve found him. I’m Bennett Clark.”

  Oh my goodness, things just took a wicked turn. For the worst? She didn’t know yet, but she was definitely knocked off-kilter. He looked down at her, and all she could think to do was stare.

  He was breathtaking. Built, yet lean, tall and broad-shouldered. His dark hair was cut short, his brown eyes deep, with full lashes. He was the complete opposite of everything she’d imagined the notorious high school football coach to be. This sexy thing could grace pages of magazines wearing nothing but briefs and a bad attitude.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, and she was pretty sure he checked her out
for just a second, his eyes quickly sweeping down the front of her. She realized she needed to regroup, and fast. She knew how to handle hot jock guys with roving eyes, had done it plenty of times in her life.

  “I’m Callie Daniels. I’m the new Pantherettes dance coach.”

  Thankfully her voice came out steady, and she took a few confident steps forward, dropped her dance bag on the floor, and held out her hand. He reciprocated, taking it into his own firm grip. His skin was warm and slightly rough. “I know who you are. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Oh? Well, then you have me at a disadvantage, Bennett, because you are not at all who I expected you to be.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I apologize. Who were you expecting, if I may inquire?”

  “Let’s just say you’re about twenty years younger than I assumed.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  “Can’t say that I’m disappointed.” She grinned. But when he only stared at her awkwardly, she felt an embarrassed blush travel up her neck. Well, shit. She cleared her throat. “Anyway. I came by to give you some news, and I have a feeling you’re not going to be very excited to hear it.”

  He crossed his arms, his brow furrowing just a bit. “Okay.”

  “I’m just going to put it out there. Despite your initial reservations, Principal Jensen took it upon himself to go ahead and sign you up to compete in the celebrity dance-off at the country club in October and he asked me to be your partner and coach. So to speak. So … surprise!” This time her grin was wide and over-the-top.

  He sucked a deep breath into his nose, his wide chest expanding as he did. He let the breath out slowly, never taking his eyes off her face.

  Oh my. It’s a little hot in here.

  He remained silent as her grin fell.

  She’d made a huge miscalculation. Before she walked in, it hadn’t even occurred to her for one second that this man would be, well … hot as hell. She’d only known old coaches, the kind who wore embroidered team polos, yelled a lot, and patted their players on the butt. Her plan had been to come here, be adorable, throw down the rules, and make this happen.