Play Me

“Will do.”

Joseph left, and I continued researching different coaches. None of them had what I was looking for. Frustrated, I walked over to the window, which looked over the field. So much needed to be done before the fall. And there wasn’t much time. Our ex-running back had been picked up by the team that had won the entire championship last season. He’d been one of the best players we had. I cracked my neck as the tension grew.

Maybe the coach from Michigan State would work. He had a great record, but he lacked the passion. Results were what counted, though. But I truly believed the sky was the limit when people were invested in what they did, when it was part of them.

As I pondered this dilemma, the door to my office swung open, and the man I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about filled the doorway.

My assistant was behind him. Only her feet could be seen behind Hunter’s broad build. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Wales. He just walked right by.”

“It’s okay, Amber. I was expecting Mr. Owens.”

I hadn’t been, but there was no reason to let him believe that. I minimized the list of other coaches on my computer screen before I walked around the large cherrywood desk that had been here from the previous owner. I hated how large and blocky it felt, but a new desk simply wasn’t in the budget.

The door shut, and I put on a smile. “Good morning, Mr. Owens. I hope you brought my shoes with you.”

4

Hunter

Hours earlier…

I stared out over the pasture, my hands tightly gripping the railing as I tried to push away this strange ache in my chest. I hadn’t been able to get Kendall Wales out of my head for the last six days. She was consuming my thoughts day and night, and it was beginning to piss me off. When she’d put those damn boots on and followed me into the barn, I wanted to back her against the wall and kiss the living shit out of her.

Fuck. Stop thinking about kissing her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so conflicted about something. It’s a simple yes or no, son.”

My father’s voice pulled me from my wandering thoughts. I turned to face him. He sat in one of the rocking chairs on my back porch, a knowing grin on his face. As if he could read my mind. He probably could. Brett Owens, my dad. The former college star, NFL MVP, and football coach loved by all. That was my dad. They were some big shoes to fill, but he never once made me feel like I had to fill them. Even now, he was here for me.

“The woman drives me mad, Dad.”

He arched a brow. “The woman you spent only an hour or so with? The woman who had the balls to drive down here and offer you a job?”

I huffed. “You didn’t meet her.”

Shrugging off my comment, he went on. “So if you don’t want to consider it, why are you driving up to Bowling Green today? Surely it’s not to give her back her shoes and tell her no again.”

I hated that he could see right through me. At least three times I picked up those shoes, ready to ship them back to Kendall and move on. Each time I held them, I saw her smile and those damn blue eyes that had played in my dreams since she’d stormed onto my ranch. Those blue eyes and their color that reminded me of home. I could close my eyes and picture the blue sky of Wyoming, and when Kendall looked at me, I saw it right there in her eyes. After she’d left, it had been the first week in over a year that my dreams had not been nightmares. The first time in over a year my thoughts had been consumed with something beautiful rather than something tragic.

“You and I both know I would never coach a minor league football team. It would be career suicide.”

“Do you intend to go back to coaching?” he asked, his voice sounding hopeful.

My heart ached, and for a moment, I felt nauseous. “No, but I’d like to keep my options open.”

He nodded and took a sip of his coffee. After I’d called him Tuesday night to tell him about Kendall’s little visit, he’d informed me he was coming for a visit of his own. He’d clearly heard the uncertainty in my voice, the struggle with what to do and how to step back into an industry that had nearly drove me to a place so dark I was afraid I’d never escape it.

I knew my father, and he wasn’t coming just to visit. He was coming to watch over the ranch while I headed up to Bowling Green to figure this shit out. I wasn’t going to coach, that I knew. But there was something about Kendall Wales that made me want to help her with this team, made me want to see her succeed, and I knew I was the man to help her do it.

“It wasn’t your fault, Hunter.”

Bile threatened to climb up into my throat.

“I should have known, should have seen the signs. Something.”

My father sighed and shook his head. He’d played professional football early on in his career and had been damn good. After an injury and a messed-up relationship with the owner of the team, he’d retired and went on to coach the University of Austin to three straight national championships. Then he’d walked away from it all to be with his father, who had been diagnosed with cancer for the second time. My mother, of course, followed him to Wyoming after quitting her job as an ESPN college football sideline reporter. To say football was in my blood was an understatement.

I lived it.

Breathed it.

Played it.

Coached it.

I was first-round NFL draft pick my junior year at the University of Austin where my father coached. I knew football, and I was fucking good at it. I played four years in the NFL before I decided to move to my other passion. Coaching. I started off as the defensive coordinator for Tennessee Spartans before moving four years later into the position of head coach at the age of thirty, the youngest NFL coach to date. Until one of my players died right in front of my eyes and changed my entire life.

“How? No one could have seen that. He had an undetected heart condition, Hunter. You could not have known that.”

“I pushed him too hard.”

“It was during a damn game, and he was running the ball in for a touchdown. How is that pushing him too hard? He was doing his job.”

I looked into his eyes, shaking my head. “I should have known.”

“So that’s it? You’re never going to forgive yourself?”

“No,” I replied instantly.

We sat in silence for a few moments before he did what he always did when we got to this point in the conversation—changed the subject.

“Did I tell you about when your mother and I met?”

A warm smile spread over his face, and I sat in the chair opposite him, relieved that we were no longer talking about that day.

“Mom has told me her version. That the two of you saw each other on the sidelines, and you both knew there was something magical between you.”

He chuckled. “Well, she’s right, but that wasn’t exactly the way I remember my feelings.”

It was my turn to laugh, and it felt good. The heaviness from the conversation only moments ago drifted away in the light breeze.

“She was beautiful, and I knew I wanted to… get to know her. Then I met her, and I wanted to strangler her. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to drag her from my boss’s office back to the airport or put her in my bed.”

With a groan, I scrubbed my hands over my face. “Dad, I didn’t need a visual.”

“All I’m saying is I see the same thing on your face, son. Trust me when I say you cannot deny to yourself that you’re attracted to Kendall Wales. It will only frustrate you more. What you need to figure out is if you can push that to the side and do the job she’s offering you.”

“No.”

“No, you can’t push the feelings aside, or no to the job?”

I sighed. “I won’t coach the team, but I will offer to be the consultant for one year. That’s all I’m willing to give her to help turn the team around.”

“From what I’ve read, it needs more than just turning around. Might take more like five years.”

“I always did like a challenge,” I sta

ted with a grin.

He leaned forward. “And the attraction?”

With a smirk, I stood. “What attraction?”

5

Hunter