Reunited (Tueday Temptations) (2 page)

His strong legs looked exactly the same.

Kathryn’s pulse raced, but she steadied herself as she led Maya toward the Pee Wee soccer field. Brett stood with his back to them, talking to another parent. He was wearing sports shorts and a T-shirt, coach fare. His jet-black hair still fell to his collar in unruly waves.

Her stomach knotted. How was she going to get through this?

She looked down at her adorable daughter, so cute in her shin guards and cleats.

Maya. That’s how she would get through this. For Maya.

Once she was within speaking distance, she cleared her throat. “Mr. Falcone?”

He turned, and Kathryn melted into a puddle. Age had been kind to the Italian Stallion. Tiny streaks of silver threaded through the silky hair at his temples. Dark stubble graced his jaw line. His dark brown eyes still appeared black, and the lashes were still long and thick. Those lips—once firm and supple upon her own—were still red, full, and gorgeous.

And his athlete’s body? Oh yeah, there it was. She remembered as though it were yesterday instead of twenty years ago. That flat belly, those strong virile arms, the corded neck, the hard muscled chest.

He looked at her, cocked his head, as though he were trying to place her.

She held out her hand, willing it not to tremble. “I’m Kathryn Abbott, and this is Maya.”

His gaze pierced hers and she knew the second recognition hit.

“I’ll be damned. Kathryn Zurakowsky.”

She smiled, her lips quivering. “Abbott now. How are you, Brett?”

“Can’t complain. You?”

She nodded. “Life’s been good. So how did you end up coaching?”

“My daughter’s playing. That’s her, with the dark hair.” He motioned to a little girl kicking a soccer ball in short kicks across the field.

Kathryn nodded. She raked her gaze over his left hand that hung at his side. No wedding band. But he had a daughter on this team, so he must be married. He probably just took off his ring to play soccer. Made perfect sense.

“So this is Maya, huh?” Brett knelt down. “Hi Maya, I’m Coach Brett.”

“Hello,” Maya said shyly.

“I know your mommy from a long time ago.”

“When she was little like me?”

“Not quite
that
long ago.” Brett laughed. “Are you excited to play soccer?”

“Oh yeah!” Maya clapped her hands together.

“I’m hoping she got her father’s athletic talent,” Kathryn said. “As you’ll recall, I don’t have any.”

Brett ignored her comment. “You ready to start kicking a ball, Maya?”

“Sure!”

“Okay then.” He took her hand. “Mommy’ll stay here and I’ll take you to meet the rest of the girls on the team.”

Kathryn nodded and smiled. “Go ahead, Maya. I’ll be right here reading my book while you have your practice.”

Kathryn set up her folding chair, sat down, and opened her romance novel. After reading the same paragraph five times, she still had no idea what it said.

She looked up. Brett had set up orange cones and was showing the six little girls how to kick the ball around the cones. His demeanor was kind, paternal. Kathryn couldn’t imagine Danny doing something like this. He’d be too authoritative and demanding. Danny was a gifted athlete, or had been, when he was younger, but Kathryn doubted he was coaching material. At least not for this age.

Brett had no doubt married his high school sweetheart, Michelle Bates. That had been his plan at the end of high school anyway, whether or not the scholarship came through. Bubbly, blonde Michelle was probably the mother of the little dark-haired beauty on the field. Or maybe Brett had divorced Michelle and married again. For him to have a child so young, that was definitely a possibility. Or maybe he and Michelle hadn’t worked out and he’d only married more recently, like Kathryn had.

Whatever the case, she couldn’t sit here ogling him for another fifteen minutes. Thank goodness soccer practice for four-year-olds only lasted half an hour.

She pretended to read her book for the remainder of practice. Finally, Brett brought the girls together in a circle and made them join hands in the middle. “Blue thunder on three,” he said. “One, two three.”

“Blue thunder!” a chorus of happy little girl voices cheered.

Maya ran to Kathryn.

“Did you have fun, sweetie?”

“Oh, yeah, it was tons of fun. I love to kick the ball!”

“Then you’re in the right sport.” Kathryn laughed as she folded up her chair and stuffed it in its bag. She wanted to be well on her way before Brett was done talking to the pretty young woman hanging on his every word. Must be another parent. A very young and attractive parent. Of course she’d be young. Most parents with children Maya’s age were in their twenties, not thirty-eight like Kathryn. And Brett, for that matter.

She slung the chair over her shoulder. “Grab your ball, Maya.”

Maya picked up her size-three soccer ball and smiled up at Kathryn. “Ready, Mommy.”

“Let’s go then. I promised you a milkshake, didn’t I?”

“A milkshake sounds great.”

Kathryn turned toward the deep timbre. Brett had heard her?

“I think Zoe might like a milkshake. Do you mind if we join you?”

He had to be kidding. “Uh, well, no, of course not.”

“We can go over to The Robin’s Nest and the girls can have a milkshake and play on the tot lot. You and I can catch up.”

Kathryn’s cheeks warmed.

“That would be fun, Mommy,” Maya said. “Zoe’s real nice.”

Nice to be put on the spot. She couldn’t talk to Brett. She just couldn’t. So much history. Too much unresolved between them.

“Please, Mommy?” Maya tugged on Kathryn’s sleeve.

Kathryn had a hard time saying no to Maya these days. She missed Danny so much. Divorce was hell on a kid, but Kathryn wouldn’t be doing her child any favors by letting her have everything she wanted. She wasn’t going to have one of those spoiled children of divorce.

“I have an early day tomorrow, sweetie. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Mommy, please! You did promise me a milkshake.”

So she had. She sighed. “You’re right. I did. If Coach Brett and Zoe want to join us, that would be wonderful.”

“Oh good!” Maya jumped away from Kathryn and grabbed Zoe’s hand. “My favorite’s vanilla. What’s yours?”

“Strawberry,” the other girl said.

“I remember your favorite, Kath.” Brett’s breath warmed her neck. “Chocolate. Right?”

Kathryn’s skin bristled. No one else had ever called her that. Her mom called her Kathy. Everyone else, including Danny, had always called her Kathryn.
Kath
. Brett’s husky timbre trickled over her like thick, dark chocolate. Her knees weakened. She remembered. Remembered exactly how he’d licked chocolate off her warm neck…

The warmth of a flush drifted over her flesh. “I stopped eating chocolate when I was pregnant with Maya,” she said, her voice shaky. “I couldn’t stand it during morning sickness.”

Actually, she’d stopped eating chocolate years before, after she had left town. She’d stopped eating it for a reason she wasn’t ready to think about right now. Maybe not ever.

“Really?” Brett stepped beside her. “I’m surprised. I remember you as a true chocoholic.”

“Things change,” she said.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s…it’s good to see you again, Brett.”

“I didn’t realize you were back in town.”

“I’ve only been here a few months.”

“You kind of dropped off the face of the earth, you know.”

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “I had my reasons. You did marry Michelle, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

“That’s what I figured.” Kathryn shifted her gaze to Maya and Zoe skipping ahead.

Twenty years earlier

Kathryn’s throat constricted as she walked into Mrs. Knott’s math classroom. She’d refused to see Brett in her home or his for tutoring, so Mr. Phillips had arranged for their use of a classroom after school. She shook her head. What was the world coming to? To go to such effort just for baseball seemed fruitless to Kathryn.

Brett, to her surprise, was already in the classroom. She’d hoped they’d be chaperoned by Mr. Phillips or a teacher, but that wasn’t possible. However, the principal and Mr. Phillips would be in the building until five, so if she needed them, she could contact them via the intercom. Not that she feared for her physical safety around Brett. No, he wasn’t like that. Especially not with her. She just didn’t want to be alone with him for reasons of her own.

“Hey there,” he said.

“Hi.” She whisked through the maze of student desks quickly and took a seat at the teacher’s desk. Why not? She was the teacher, right?

“Can’t you sit beside me?”

“No. You’re here to learn. I’m here to tutor you. That makes me the teacher, you the student.”

He let out a drawling guffaw. “If you say so, teach.”

“Cut the attitude,” she said. “I’m here to help you, and according to Mr. Phillips, you wanted me and no one else.”

“True.”

“So treat me with respect, or I leave.”

The muscles in Brett’s perfectly sculpted face tightened. She’d hit a nerve. Interesting. But why? Why did he insist on her as a tutor when several other just as qualified individuals existed who didn’t share their history?

Of course, maybe he didn’t even remember their history. He’d left her alone for the past four years. He was one of the beautiful people, the popular crowd. He probably didn’t remember how he’d tormented her, made her middle school years hell, been the cause of many tears shed into her pillow.

Not that she ever let him see her cry. No, she was too proud for that. She’d always waited until she got home to her empty house before letting the dam break.

No time for that now. She was bound to tutor Brett Falcone, and the sooner they started, the sooner they could finish.

“What exactly do you need help with?” she asked. “Mr. Phillips said you’re failing math.”

“Dummy math.”

“Intro to Algebra?” Kathryn shook her head. Brett Falcone was an asshole to the nth degree, but she’d never thought he was stupid. Not a genius, to be sure, but failing Intro to Algebra? Something else was at work here. “I didn’t know seniors could take that class. Isn’t it a Freshman class?”

“Not for us dummies.”

“All right, enough of that talk. It’s counter-productive.”

He laughed. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means if you keep telling yourself you’re a dummy, you’ll become one. So shut up already.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her.

“Ha-ha. Okay, where are you having the problem?”

“First, let me ask you a question.”

“Sorry. I’m the tutor here. I ask the questions.”

“No, I’m the student. I’m the one with questions.”

He had a point. She blew a strand of hair out of her face. “What’s your question?”

“Why did you agree to tutor me?”

“That’s not a mathematical question, Brett.”

“No. But I’d like to know.”

She huffed. “Fine. If I answer that, I get to ask you a question.”

“Fair enough. So why?”

“Mr. Phillips made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“What offer?”

“None of your business. I answered your question, now you answer mine.”

“You didn’t answer mine.”

“Oh yes, I did. It was a perfectly acceptable answer to the question as posed. Next time, ask a more specific question.” She couldn’t help a slight smile. “Now, why did you insist on me for a tutor?”

“You’re the smartest person I know.”

“You haven’t said two words to me in four years. How do you know I’m the smartest?”

“You’ve always been the smartest, Kath. Since we were little kids.” His lips curved into a churlish grin. “And there’s another reason.”

“Which is?”

“You’re a fox.”

Kathryn caught her chin before it dropped to the floor. A fox? This from Brett Falcone, the boy who’d tormented her for being an ugly nerd? Granted, once the braces had come off and she’d gotten contact lenses, her looks had improved. Her mother told her she was beautiful, but she was her mother, for God’s sake. No one else had.

“I’d much rather look at you for an hour than one of those other nerds.”

Heat crept up her neck. Damn! She didn’t want him to see that his words affected her. This was Brett Falcone, the boy who’d made her life miserable, the boy who’d made her cry. What did she care if he found her attractive now? He was probably lying anyway. He wasn’t a nice person.

“Looking at me won’t get you the C you need.”

“But studying with you will.”

“Let’s get one thing straight right now.” Kathryn raked her fingers through her feathered hair. “We aren’t studying together. I’m teaching, you’re learning. There’s nothing magical about sitting here with a student who knows math. You aren’t going to learn through osmosis, Brett. You need to take an active part in this process.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Kathryn stood and gathered her books. “I’m leaving.”

She was halfway to the door when a warm hand gripped her elbow.

“Please. Don’t go. I need you. Really.”

She turned. This would be so much easier if he weren’t so damn good-looking. Every teenage girl’s fantasy. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”