Winning the Right Brother

Every cell in his body was screaming at him to stay. He might be honorable on the football field, but here? Hell, he was a man, not a saint.

Any other woman would let him into her house, into her bed, where he could see her up close and personal. Only Holly would never let him see her like this, and now he had an opportunity to catch a stolen glimpse. He’d be crazy to pass it up.

With a curse Alex turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the driveway, his tires spitting gravel as he went.

When it came to Holly Stanton, crazy didn’t begin to cover it.

Chapter Two

Why, Alex wondered as he drove home. Why couldn’t he do what any sensible, red-blooded American male would have done?

It was just … she’d hate it so much if she ever knew he’d invaded her privacy like that. Not that she’d hate him any more—Alex doubted that was possible—but she was such a private person. Being watched like that, spied on, would really hit her where she lived.

He sighed as he let himself into his house. What was it about Holly? He’d dated all kinds of women—sexy, exciting women—and this one diminutive redhead could still tie him up in knots, make him feel like an adolescent hormone bomb.

He’d been a junior in high school when his family moved to Weston, a small town in Ohio northeast of Cincinnati. His stepbrother was a senior and, true to form, fit in at their new school right away. Equally true to form, Alex made it clear he had no intention of ever fitting in. He and Brian had always been at odds with each other. The only thing they’d ever come close to agreeing on was Holly Stanton.

Alex had met her first, since they were in the same grade. He could still remember walking into algebra that first day and seeing her at the chalkboard, writing out an equation, her teeth sunk in her lower lip as she concentrated.

It was as if all the air went out of the room.

A few weeks later he was coming out of detention (he’d earned seven in his first month, some kind of school record) when he heard music coming from an empty classroom. He opened the door and saw a boom box on one of the desks, and Holly Stanton dancing and singing with complete abandon.

He’d been struck dumb. She had a really good singing voice, sweet and smoky at the same time, and the bright copper waves of her hair bounced around her as she danced.

She caught him watching and stopped dead. He’d never seen anyone blush so deep or look so mortified.

“Don’t be embarrassed, you have a great voice,” he told her. Inspiration struck. “I’m starting a band with some kids at school. Do you want to be our lead singer? We practice every Friday. You could come this week if you want.” In the world of a sixteen-year-old boy, there was no greater gift he could have offered.

Instead of being flattered, she looked hurt. “You’re making fun of me,” she said, turning away from him and shutting off the music. “And, anyway, I have plans on Friday. I’m going out with your brother.”

“Stepbrother,” Alex said through a spasm of jealousy that clenched his hands into fists. He had no idea she’d even met Brian. “You shouldn’t go out with that jerk,” he went on. “You deserve someone better than him.”

She’d stared at him as if he was crazy. “Better than Brian? I don’t think so.”

During the next few weeks, Alex told himself it was only a matter of time before Holly saw through his stepbrother. She’d realize that Brian didn’t care about her—that he’d never care about anyone but himself. She was smart. She’d figure it out.

But she didn’t. And in school and at home he had to watch the two of them together, watch Brian swell with pride at having such a beautiful girl on his arm, the perfect accessory for his perfect life. And he had to watch Holly look to Brian for her cues, so anxious to be the perfect girlfriend that she could never relax, never be herself.

Was he the only one who really saw Holly? Not just that day he’d caught her singing, but in class, too, when her enthusiasm overcame her shyness and she talked about a book she loved or a topic she cared about. No one else seemed to pay attention to what she said—people were more interested in her looks, or in the fact that she was Brian’s girlfriend. Was he the only one who really listened when she spoke up in class? The only one who noticed how funny and smart and passionate she could be?

The longer she was with Brian the more rare those flashes of enthusiasm became. She got quieter in general and especially around her boyfriend, letting him do all the talking. Letting him be the smart one.

Brian didn’t want a girlfriend who was funny or smart or passionate, who might take the spotlight off of him or challenge his complacence. What he wanted was a mirror, someone to reflect back his success, someone to cheer at his speeches and basketball games and awards ceremonies, someone to make him shine even brighter. And Holly seemed perfectly willing to play that role for him.

Watching her with Brian was like watching her disappear.

And there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. What could he do, when she wouldn’t listen to him? He tried a few times, in the beginning, but she shut him down fast. He might see behind her facade, but she didn’t bother to look behind his. Holly had taken one look at him and decided he was a burnout, a troublemaker, and obviously not worth talking to.

He tried to hate her. He told himself he did hate her. But he’d never been able to ignore her. He fell into a pattern of baiting her, instead—needling her whenever he got the chance. And Holly had treated him like something on the bottom of her shoe.

Alex came back to the present, shaking his head. His feelings had been intense back then—he’d been a teenager, after all—but that was in the past. He wasn’t that kid anymore, hadn’t been for a long time. He was surprised his memories were still so vivid.

A lot of water had gone under the bridge since high school. Brian had moved out to California and was the rich, successful lawyer he’d always wanted to be. Holly was a single mom with a career of her own, and he was a high school football coach.

They were adults now. You’d think he and Holly would be able to start fresh after fifteen years. But after their brief meeting tonight, Alex doubted they’d ever be able to get along. They rubbed each other the wrong way and probably always would.

So why was he still thinking about her?

It didn’t help that she was still so damn gorgeous—or that his body responded to her as if he were still sixteen.

He needed to get out more, that was his problem. Since moving back to Weston he’d been busy every weekend, either down at the school or fixing up the house. He needed to go out some Saturday night with a woman who found him charming and funny and incredibly sexy.

He wouldn’t mind the company, either, he thought as he walked upstairs. His place was too big for one person. He didn’t know what had possessed him to buy this old farmhouse, except that it had a great yard out back and he liked houses with character and history and projects to keep him busy in the off-season.

But a little company wouldn’t hurt. Sexy, willing, female company. And soon.

It was Friday, the day of Will’s season opener. Holly meant to go home after work and change for the game, but she got caught in a meeting at the end of the day and barely made it to the stadium in time for the opening kickoff. She felt distinctly overdressed in her peach silk pantsuit as she made her way through the crowd to the spot in the bleachers Angela and David Washington had saved for her.

The Washingtons were old hands at this, since their son, Tom, had been a star running back in his freshman year and this was his second season as a starter. Angela did her best to explain the game to her, but Holly could never figure out who had the ball, and she couldn’t tell the players apart in their helmets and bulky uniforms. Still, she cheered when Angela and David did, which was often, and found enjoyment in the happy crowd, the kids’ excitement and the beautiful September evening.

She’d spotted Alex right away, down by the players’ bench. She noted objectively—at least she told herself it was objective—that he was looking very, very good in a pair of worn blue jeans and a Wildcats sweatshirt, his brown hair ruffled by the wind. She tried to focus on the game, but since she didn’t really understand it and Will wasn’t playing, it was hard to stay interested. She found her eyes straying to Alex instead.

He looked at home down there on the sidelines, talking animatedly to his assistant coaches, slapping his players on the back as he sent them into the game and giving them high fives when they returned, pacing back and forth as he watched the action on the field, arguing fiercely with an official over a disputed call.

The Wildcats must have been doing something right, because the score was thirty-one to seven near the end of the fourth quarter, when Alex sent Will into the game.

Holly’s heart was in her throat as Will trotted onto the field to join the team huddle. Her hands gripped the cold metal seat when the players lined up, and when Will cocked his arm back to throw the ball. Then she gave the loudest cheer of her life when the pass was caught and the receiver crossed the goal line for a touchdown.

The game ended soon after that and Holly found herself swept onto the field with the hometown fans, family and friends swarming around the players in happy confusion. Holly took a few steps back as she searched for Will in the crowd.

When she felt a hand on her shoulder she turned, and when she saw Alex standing there, a bolt of electricity shot through her. She jerked away before she could stop herself.

“Nice game, Coach,” she said lightly, trying to recover her poise.

“Thanks,” he said, tilting his head to the side as he looked at her. “You know, I don’t see a lot of silk suits and high heels at football games. Do you even own a pair of jeans?”

Holly flushed. “I came straight from work,” she snapped. The two of them apparently couldn’t talk without irritating each other, so why even pretend to be civil?

He was wearing that knowing smile of his, the one that said he knew he’d gotten under her skin. She was about to say a cold goodbye when Will came running up to them.

“Coach, we’re taking you out to celebrate,” he said jubilantly. “We’re going to the Texas Grill, and you’re the guest of honor.” He turned to Holly. “A bunch of parents are going along, too. Won’t you come, Mom? Please?”

Holly sighed inwardly. She’d never seen her son so excited—she had to celebrate with him. There’d be a lot of people there and it shouldn’t be hard to stay away from Alex.

“Of course,” she said, sounding as enthusiastic as she could. Will looked happy as he went back to his friends, but from the look Alex gave her before she turned away, she guessed she hadn’t fooled him one bit.

Not that she ever had.

An hour later, having watched Will consume an enormous pile of barbecued spareribs and having eaten a few herself, Holly was watching Alex play pool. She had plenty of company—half the population of Weston seemed to be there, all of them wanting to congratulate the new coach. For tonight, at least, he was the most popular guy in town.

That sure was a change from high school. Back then, Alex had gone out of his way to alienate people. Now he was at the center of a warm circle of parents and kids, laughing and talking with everybody. He made a particularly spectacular shot, and one parent—a single mom like her, but looking ten years younger in a short denim skirt and shimmery top—took friendliness a step further by throwing her arms around Alex’s neck and kissing him loudly on the cheek.

Okay, so some things hadn’t changed.

Alex had always been a flirt. He never bragged about his conquests the way some guys did, but his relationships had always been … casual. Casual and numerous.

He was running the table now, amidst loud cheers. The single mom was cheering the loudest, and Holly felt a sudden wave of depression. She felt out of place in her work clothes, out of place in the midst of this boisterous, celebratory group.

She was just tired, that was all. It had been a long work week and she hadn’t planned on going out tonight.

She found her son playing video games with his friends. “I’m feeling a little beat, honey. Do you mind if I head out now? I asked the Washingtons to drive you home so you don’t have to leave the party early.”

“No problem, Mom,” Will said, giving her a quick grin before turning back to his game.

A few minutes later Holly was standing in the brightly lit parking lot, looking ruefully at her left rear tire. It was flat as a pancake. She remembered the broken glass in the stadium parking lot, which she’d thought she’d avoided.

Apparently not.

She thought briefly about going back inside for Will, but she knew he was still having fun. And, anyway, she was perfectly capable of changing a flat tire by herself. She’d been doing it for fifteen years.

She opened her trunk to get the spare.

Alex sat out the next pool game, but there was still a crowd around him—fans of the Weston Wildcats and parents bubbling over with enthusiasm for their sons’ new football coach.

He was familiar with this kind of instant popularity. If they lost their game next week, it would just as instantly evaporate. But victory celebrations were always fun and he was enjoying himself, listening respectfully to one father’s analysis of the game, when he caught sight of a familiar redhead walking away from the crowd.

“Absolutely,” he said. “That’s a good point about our pass defense. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s another parent I need to say hello to.”

He was determined to talk to Holly again tonight. On the drive over from the stadium, he’d decided to try one more time to have a normal conversation with her. The past shouldn’t define the present. The relaxed atmosphere of the Texas Grill was the perfect setting—he could buy her a drink or challenge her to a game of pool. He refused to believe that two rational adults couldn’t get past whatever friction still lingered from their high school days.

He saw her exchange a few words with Will, but before he could catch up to her she disappeared out the back door.

He paused, frowning. He thought about asking Will why she was leaving early, but it wasn’t really any of his business. She was probably just tired.

It was none of his business, he reminded himself as he followed her out to the parking lot. But he’d check on her, anyway, just to make sure she was all right.

He saw her as soon as he stepped outside. She was over by her car, looking down at what was obviously a flat tire. After a moment she opened her trunk for the spare.

He crossed the parking lot toward her, noticing that the cool evening breeze was ruffling her hair, teasing strands out of the complicated bun. He came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head quickly, and when she saw it was him she pulled away, just like she’d done after the game. He dropped his hand and took a step back.

“Need some help?” he asked, gesturing toward the flat.

“No,” she said, reaching into the trunk for the spare and laying it on the ground. She set the iron and jack down next to it and shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it into the car.

“Come on, Holly. Changing a tire is a two-person job. Admit you need help.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew they were the wrong ones. Holly stiffened as she knelt down on the ground, grabbing for the tire iron.

“I do not need help. And even if I did, I wouldn’t need yours.”

Her words stung, childish as they were. “Fine,” he said. There was a pickup truck parked next to them and he leaned back against it, folding his arms.

She glared up at him as she placed the iron over the first wheel lug. “That was your cue to go back to your adoring fans. Why are you still here?”

“On the off chance you come off your high horse and realize you need me. That’s a moment I don’t want to miss.”

“I hope you enjoy disappointment,” she said before using both hands to bear down on the tire iron in an effort to loosen the nut—to no avail.

She sat back on her heels.

“I can bench press two hundred and eighty pounds,” he said.

She gave him a dirty look before picking the iron up again.

Her blouse was silk, a soft peach color, and through it he could see the outline of her bra. Her hair was starting to come down, tendrils clinging damply to the back of her neck. Perspiration made her skin glow.

Thirty seconds later, the nut hadn’t budged.

“I eat lugs like that for breakfast,” he told her.

She glared at him over her shoulder. “Do you mind? I’m trying to concentrate.”

“I could change that for you in a minute flat.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

He grinned at her. “Twenty bucks says I can.”

She turned her back on him and picked up the iron again. And this time, after a breathless, all-or-nothing effort, she actually succeeded in loosening the nut.

He didn’t need to see her face to know she was feeling triumphant—he could read it in the line of her shoulders and the satisfied tilt of her head.

“Very impressive. But you know you have to do it three more times, right?”

“Shut up, Alex.”

Maybe it was the flush of success, but she didn’t have any trouble with the other three lugs. She ignored him completely as she moved the jack underneath the car and began to crank it up.

But when she was struggling to position the heavy spare over the wheel studs, he decided enough was enough.

“Okay, you’ve made your point. Now let me hold that up for you while you get it aligned.”

She set the spare down for a moment and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand—her first sign of weakness. But when he moved to pick it up she slapped his hand away.

“No,” she said. “I’m not a damsel in distress.”

“I’m not trying to rescue you,” he said in exasperation. “Just let me hold the tire while you fit it over the studs. Teamwork.”

“I can do it myself.”

“Come on, Holly. You’re just being stubborn.”

“I’d rather be … stubborn than … helpless,” she panted as she finally managed to get the wheel in position. It only took her a few more minutes to tighten the lugs and lower the jack.

“There,” she said in satisfaction, tossing her tools in the trunk and using an old rag to wipe off her greasy hands. “That wasn’t so hard.”

“Right,” Alex said, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d be halfway home by now if you’d just let me—”

“I can take care of myself, Alex. I don’t need anybody’s help.”

Something else about her that hadn’t changed.

The summer after their graduation, he’d heard that Holly was pregnant. He figured she and Brian would just step up their plans to get married and have the perfect yuppie life together. But when he found out how wrong he was, that Brian was turning his back on her, something inside him had snapped.

He’d broken Brian’s jaw first. Then he’d gone over to her house and asked Holly to marry him.

It was crazy, of course. A white knight impulse that had hit him out of the blue. There’d been no reason in the world to think she’d say yes, and considering their history of mutual dislike, every reason to think she’d say no.

Still, her scornful refusal had stung.

Just like it did tonight. The stakes had been higher then, but the feeling was the same.

“I know you don’t need my help, Holly. You’ve made that pretty clear. But that doesn’t mean you can’t accept it. What’s so terrible about being rescued once in a while? Why are you so damn stubborn?”

She glared at him. “You’re calling me stubborn? I told you I didn’t need any help, but you insisted on staying out here, anyway. Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“Uh … guys?” It was Will, standing a few feet away.

How long had he been there? Alex glanced at Holly, who was looking as uncomfortable as he felt, and then back at Will, who was obviously confused by the tense conversation between his mom and his coach.

“So,” Will said after a moment of awkward silence. “I guess you guys weren’t best friends back in the day, huh?”

Holly took a deep breath and let it out again. “Not exactly,” she admitted. “But that was a long time ago, and I’m sure we can keep from arguing every time we see each other now. Can’t we, Alex?” she asked pointedly.

Not in this lifetime.

“Sure we can,” he said out loud.

He glanced back at the restaurant and saw parents and their kids beginning to come out. “Is the party over already?”

“Well, yeah. You guys were out here a long time.”

“It wouldn’t have been so long if—no, I won’t start.” He shook his head. “Good night, Holly. Take it easy driving on that spare, okay? And, Will, I’ll see you in practice next week.”

Lying awake, staring up at the ceiling, Holly kept replaying Alex’s words in her mind. What would it be like, she wondered. To let someone help her. To be rescued.

She hated herself for even asking the question. She’d been strong and independent for so long. The moment she let herself think about some man sweeping in and taking care of her, it would be over. She’d be lost. She’d be giving in to weakness, and it would destroy her.

She knew that. She knew it. And in case she was in any danger of doubting it, all she had to do was remember the day she’d gone to Brian with the news that she was pregnant.

Yes, it was unexpected. Yes, it was years sooner than they’d planned. But Holly had never doubted that Brian would support her, marry her now instead of after law school like they’d talked about. She’d gone to him trustingly, sure he’d take care of her and their unborn child.

It had been a long time since she’d thought about that day but the memory still hurt. The way he shouted at her that she was trying to ruin his life—his career.

He wouldn’t have to quit school, she said. She could work part-time, and his parents might be willing to help. Her own parents hadn’t taken the news well when she first told them, but they’d come around. And her grandmother would help as much as she could.

All she really wanted was to hear him say he loved her. That everything would be all right. That they’d figure things out together.

“If you go through with this, Holly, you’re on your own. I won’t have anything to do with you or the baby.”

Holly could still remember the pain of that rejection. It had felt like the end of the world.

But it would never happen again. Because that was the last time she’d rely on someone else for any part of her happiness or welfare.

She hadn’t spoken to Brian for four years after that. They seldom spoke now, although he saw Will once in a while. And she rarely spoke to her parents, who ended up kicking her out of the house after she refused to “take care” of the situation. They’d relented a few years later, asking to know their grandson, but Holly herself wasn’t close with them anymore.

After Will was born, her friends had told her she should get a lawyer and sue Brian for child support. But she had refused. She had learned the one lesson that would become the cornerstone of her life: the only person you can trust is yourself. She wouldn’t ask Brian for a damn thing.

Somehow she’d survived, even though she hadn’t let anyone help her that first year or two—not her friends, not even her grandmother. Once she’d proven to herself she could stand on her own feet, she was able to accept her grandmother’s love again, and be grateful for the way she doted on Will. And by that time Gran was nearly eighty and needed her almost as much as Will did, so Holly didn’t feel as if she was in any danger of losing her hard-won self-reliance.

Except for Will, there was nothing more important to Holly than the independence she’d worked so hard to achieve. That’s why she could never let herself fantasize about some man rescuing her … including Alex McKenna.