Sweet Spot. Сьюзен Мэллери
“You have no idea.”
Nicole shifted uncomfortably. “He’s your coach.” And totally hot, but that was beside the point.
“He’s Eric Hawkins. He played pro for eight years and retired at the top of his game. He’s a legend.”
She found that hard to believe. “Lucky him.”
“He’s the best. He doesn’t have to work for the money. He’s teaching high school football because he loves the game and he wants to give back.”
Nicole resisted the urge to yawn. Raoul was reciting what sounded very much like a canned speech. Probably one the kid had heard dozens of times from the legend himself.
“Good to know,” she said and pulled forty dollars out of her back pocket. “Here.”
He didn’t take the money. “You can’t pay me.”
“Sure I can. You won’t be an official employee until you fill out the paperwork. So take this for now. You’ll punch a time clock and get a real paycheck soon enough.”
He actually tucked his hands behind his back. “I was working to pay off the doughnuts I stole.”
“Technically you didn’t even get them out the door. You’re not very good at the whole stealing thing.” She sighed when he didn’t smile. “Look, you worked hard today. I appreciate that. You earned this. Take it or I’ll get really crabby and trust me, you don’t want to see that.”
He reached for the money. “You think you’re really tough, but you don’t scare me.”
That almost made her laugh. “Give it time, kid. Give it time.”
NICOLE LED RAOUL to the front of the bakery, where she filled a couple of bags with day-old pastries and baked goods.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, even as he stared longingly at the half-dozen cookies she scooped up.
“You can handle the calories. Like I said—it’s a perk.”
“Are there other perks?”
That question didn’t come from Raoul. Nicole didn’t have to turn around or even think to know who’d been speaking. And in case there was any confusion in her brain, her entire body flushed a welcome.
She straightened, braced herself for impact, then turned. Sure enough, Hawk stood behind the case, smiling that sexy, you-know-you-want-me smile of his.
He was slightly more dressed than he had been the previous day. Today his shorts were longer and his T-shirt covered all of his chest and stomach, which was both good and bad. In theory she should be able to think more easily. In reality, she was just a little disappointed.
“What do you want?” she asked, not caring that she sounded snappish.
“Interesting question,” he murmured, then winked at Raoul. “I came to see how my star player worked out. He impressed the hell out of you, didn’t he?”
Nicole found herself neatly trapped. She actually liked Raoul and had been happy to offer him a job. But with Hawk there, she felt the need to say nothing had gone well and she was happy to be rid of him.
“He was fine,” she said and handed the bags to Raoul. Afraid she would see disappointment in the kid’s eyes, she added, “Better than fine. He did great.”
“I knew it.”
“This isn’t actually about you. I know that’s an amazing concept, so I should probably give you a minute to wrap your mind around it.”
Hawk chuckled. “Raoul, you don’t have to stick around here. I’ll see you at practice in a couple of hours.”
The kid nodded and left. Nicole watched him go because it was easier than trying not to look at Hawk. The man was like catnip.
When they were alone, Nicole suddenly didn’t know what to do with any part of her body. She wanted to back up…or move much, much closer. Her arms felt funny just hanging at her sides. But crossing them seemed too hostile.
She hated this. The man had the power to make her feel awkward in her own skin.
“You don’t still need to be here,” she told him.
“I want to thank you for giving Raoul a chance,” Hawk told her, easing closer without seeming to move.
Quite the trick, she thought grimly.
“He worked hard. That happens a whole lot less than I would like. I gave him a job.”
Hawk raised one eyebrow. “He did impress you.”
“He needs the work, I need the help. Don’t make it more than it is.”
Dark eyes seemed to stare into her very being. “You want people to think you’re tough.”
“I am tough.”
“You’re a marshmallow inside.”
She stiffened. “I could have had your player’s ass thrown in jail. Don’t think I wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t shown up today. I’ve been running this place for years. I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you like what you’re doing?”
“Of course,” she said automatically because it was always what she answered. She’d known she would run the bakery from the time she was eight or nine years old. It had been understood…expected. Hers wasn’t to be a life of many surprises. Lately there sure hadn’t been any good ones.
Wait. There had been Claire. Reuniting with her sister had been good. Watching Claire fall madly in love, get pregnant, get engaged and find total happiness had stretched her good nature a little, but she was dealing. Because what choice did she have?
“Earth to Nicole.”
She blinked and saw Hawk standing a little too close.
“I lost you there,” he said.
“That must be a first,” she said without thinking. “A woman focusing on something other than you for an eighth of a second.”
“Because I’m so hard to resist?”
“Not for me.”
“I don’t believe that. You’re interested.”
If she’d been able to look at him for more than five seconds at a time without wanting to make moany noises, she might have picked up something heavy and clocked him on the head. As it was, he was telling the truth and she was too embarrassed to figure out a quick way to verbally eviscerate him. Which left her with the humiliating comeback of, “I’m not interested.”
He grinned. “That was convincing.”
“I don’t care what it is, it’s the truth.” Almost. Annoyance pushed her to honesty. “You know you’ve got a great body and you obviously enjoy flashing it at the world. Which means what? You’re well into your thirties. Shouldn’t you be over that by now? Shouldn’t you spend about a third as much time developing your mind as your body? You can’t be a football coach forever.”
Too late, she remembered that, yes, he could be a coach forever and that Raoul had mentioned something about him being a professional football player. Which probably meant he was rich.
“You’re assuming I’m stupid?” he asked in a tone that was both amused and outraged. “Is that because I have muscles or because I play football? Isn’t that the same as me assuming you’re an idiot because you’re a natural blonde?”
Maybe. Yes. She ignored the question. “How do you know I’m a natural blonde?”
“My excellent powers of observation.”
“I run a successful business. I’m obviously more than capable,” she said primly.
HAWK