Challenging the Center (Santa Fe Bobcats #6)(66)

Chapter 19





Michael followed Kat out of the office, walking along the short hallway back into the lobby. Gary now stood at the desk, clicking away at his computer, and Thomas was on the court with two girls who looked like they were in high school.

“Those two giggly girls again,” Kat said with a sigh.

“Why aren’t they in school?” he wondered out loud. “They can’t be older than sixteen.”

“Homeschooled. Parents don’t want their sweet angels being corrupted.” Gary snorted without looking up from the computer. “You two done doing whatever it is I’m pretending I don’t know about you doing in that office?”

Kat flushed, looked at Michael, then quickly looked away again. “Sorry we ducked out. He… needed ice.”

“Uh-huh.” Gary never looked up from the screen. “Thomas could use some help with those two ninnies on court two. Go help him out for a minute, would you?”

“Sure.” Looking relieved to escape the awkwardness, she glanced at Michael once more, leaned toward him, then apparently thought better of a good-bye kiss, and jogged to the door that led to the courts.

And he longed for that good-bye kiss. An ache just under his breastbone.

“Got a shiner, huh?”

Michael blinked. “Oh, uh, yeah. It’ll color up some. No big deal.”

“Your coaches give you shit, just tell them to call me.”

He smiled at that. It was nice of the old guy to care, but—

“I’ll tell them what a shitty excuse for a tennis player you are, and your concentration is jacked up.”

Ah, there it was. “Thanks, Gary.” He watched through the window for a second as Kat joined Thomas on the court, then took the place of one of the teens on the court to demonstrate some wicked overhead thingy at the net. God, she was a pleasure to watch. Her body in motion was meant for viewing. Muscular, powerful, dynamic… gorgeous.

“Gotta get her head wrapped around doubles. Damn Peter’s been sending her down the wrong path for years.”

“Is doubles really that different?”

Gary gave him a look that silently asked, You’re not too bright, are you? and walked over to stand beside him. “It’s not always as lucrative or as well known. That’s the problem. Peter won’t wanna give up having the chance for a top-ten-ranked player again. But there’s still money in doubles and opportunities. She needs both.

Beyond the glass, they both watched as Kat demonstrated some footwork in slow motion and then made the girls do it with her. Gary nodded as they watched. “She should be doing this for a living, between playing. This should be her career, right here. She’s not made for announcing, for journalism, for being a big spokesperson. She’s meant to be in the trenches.”

Despite the gruff attitude and weird outfits, Michael realized he liked Gary. Liked him for Kat, for her career. “Will she listen and try doubles out?”

“Well, that’s the funny thing about doubles… you need a partner. I’ll be hunting. But we already discovered one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Gary turned and pinned him with a gaze as intently as a moth being pinned to a corkboard. “She plays better when she’s aiming at a warm body.”

Michael had a feeling, for some reason, Gary wasn’t just talking about tennis. He nodded, said good-bye, then headed for the door.

“You gonna be that warm body?”

Michael just glanced over his shoulder, gave the man a wave, and kept going. He had practice to get to… and a bitching out to hear from the coaches.



Trey stared at Michael’s face so long Michael wondered if it had rearranged itself like a Picasso painting or something. “What? Fucking what?”

Trey grinned, rubbing a towel over his head. They’d suffered through practice, though it wasn’t a tough one, and he’d been given a pass from any contact due to the bruise. The coaches wanted the team doctor to give him the okay before contact. He had an appointment with the guy after he showered and changed.

“You’re just looking a little rough, that’s all. Car accident?” When Michael blinked, Trey added, “The airbags. They pack a punch.”

“Maybe he got his ass kicked for moving in on someone else’s woman.” Matt Peterson walked by, towel barely held on at his hips. If there were any guy who didn’t mind walking around totally naked, junk on display for the world, it was Matt. The man defined the word show-off. “You know how the ladies love Lambert.”

Michael stayed quiet, drying his own hair roughly. When he accidentally jammed his fist against his cheek in his haste, he nearly moaned. God, that hurt. Why was it he could be plowed over by a guy forty pounds heavier than him and pop back up like it didn’t happen, but a simple bruise on his cheekbone made him want to curl into the fetal position?

“We leave in the morning.” Stephen walked by and flicked Michael’s cheek without warning, which made him suck in a breath and deliberate between swinging his own towel out to snap Harrison’s balls, or just finding the closest gun to shoot him. “Dinner tonight, my place?”

Trey agreed, as did Matt.

Michael started to agree, then thought better of it. “Yeah, I don’t think so, sorry.”