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On the surface, though, a lot of things had changed.
His hair was no longer bleached and spiked, for one thing. It was light brown, and cut fairly short. There was no safety pin in his left ear, no metal studs anywhere at all, and no black clothing. He wore a pair of khaki pants and a forest green button-down shirt.
The haircut and clothes together would normally come attached to a good boy. The kind you could safely bring home to Mother.
But the harsh planes of his jaw and cheekbones, the piercing blue eyes, the scar slicing through his left eyebrow—all these still screamed bad boy.
And all the conservative shirts in the world couldn’t conceal those broad, muscular shoulders and rock-hard chest.
Sex, sin and danger. Yep, Alex McKenna was still open for business.
Alex grinned at Will and tried not to be too obvious about looking around for his mother.
The Stanton home, at least what he could see of it, was neat as a pin and furnished with quiet good taste. Big surprise there. Holly had probably been born with the Ralph Lauren logo tattooed across her forehead. The room to the right was dark, but just down the hall he could see the brightly lit kitchen, with lemon-yellow tile countertops and a red geranium on the windowsill. Good smells, like Italian food and freshly baked bread, came wafting toward him, but there was no sign of Holly.
Alex bit back an irrational feeling of disappointment. “Ready to head out, Will? I’m assuming you cleared it with your mom.”
“Yep. She’s right—” Will turned his head, but no one was there. “Well, she was right behind me ….”
And then a small, slender redhead in an elegantly cut brown wool pantsuit came out of the shadows to stand beside her son. She looked up at him for a long minute, her head tilted to one side.
“Hi, Alex,” she said finally, in the low, husky voice he remembered.
She was even more gorgeous now than she’d been as a teenager—and as a teenager she’d had every guy who saw her dragging his tongue in the dust.
Her face was the same—the same smooth, creamy skin, the same delicate features. The expression in her green eyes was different: a little tougher, a little warier.
Her hair was exactly the same. Coppery red mingled with brown and gold, like fall leaves. She still wore it pulled back, although the style was a little more sophisticated now.
He could tell her lips were still full and soft, although right now they were pressed together, adding to the sense of caution reflected in her eyes.
And then there was her body. Hidden, naturally, behind a severely tailored suit that was obviously intended to play down her curves. Begging the question of why in God’s name anyone would want to hide something so delectable ….
Alex gave a mental shrug. Hell, he knew why she hid. She was still the same, play-it-safe Holly Stanton: afraid to put so much as a perfectly manicured toe on the wild side.
“Hello, Holly,” he said. “Long time no see.”
She was looking him up and down now, one eyebrow lifted. “You’ve certainly changed since I saw you last,” she said, her voice amused.
Just like old times. In less than a minute, she’d managed to piss him off.
“The Gap just isn’t a look I ever expected to see on you,” she added.
The kicker was, he’d put on these damn clothes with her in mind. Thinking that maybe she’d see a different side of him. His jaw tightened. So much for a fresh start. Like the seventeen-year-old kid he’d once been, he wanted nothing more than to wipe that superior look off her face.
He leaned back casually against the door frame, folding his arms across his chest. “Most of us change after high school, Holly. Except you, of course. You haven’t changed a bit. Every hair in place … just like the old days.” He grinned suddenly. “Of course, I did get to see another side of you once. The day I caught you dancing around that empty classroom, singing to Bruce Springsteen at the top of your lungs.”
That got under her skin a little—he watched the heat come up into her face, the way it had when they were teenagers and he tossed a barb her way. Her eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to say something, but a glance at Will made her hold it back. Alex wondered what she’d been about to call him.
“Wow, Mom,” Will said, looking surprised. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance.”
“That’s because I don’t,” she said crisply. She looked from her son to Alex. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but don’t you boys have plans to talk about that inflated rubber ball you’re so obsessed with? Oh, and the pummeling,” she added, the superior expression back. “Let’s not forget the intellectual stimulation of the pummeling.”
Will said goodbye to his mom and followed Alex out the door. “She’s not exactly a football fan,” he told his coach.
“Yeah, I picked up on that,” Alex answered as he led the way to his car.
They were gone.
Holly closed her eyes and leaned back against the front door. “That went well,” she said to the empty house.
Why had she let Alex get to her, as if they were still teenagers? Heck, she was the mother of a teenager, and a successful businesswoman to boot.
He said she hadn’t changed a bit. She knew what that meant. Boring old Holly was still … boring.
Holly was suddenly filled with a desire to show Alex McKenna that she wasn’t boring. That she could be sexy and wild and … dangerous.
She sighed. Who was she kidding? If she’d been uptight as a teenager—with one notable lapse—then how much more uptight was she now? Now that she was thirty-four, with a house and a son and a career to think about?
It was a little late in the day to start playing bad girl.
Not that she wanted to, Holly told herself as she went into the kitchen to clean up after dinner. She had a great life. A wonderful son, a beautiful home, and work as a financial planner she was good at and enjoyed.
Holly turned on the CD player she kept on the kitchen counter, and Bruce Springsteen’s bedroom voice filled the air.
She had to laugh. Trust Alex to remind her of one of her more embarrassing teenage memories—getting caught pretending she was a rock star.
She remembered how much she’d hated it that Alex had been the one to see her looking so foolish. Alex never looked foolish. He was always cocky and self-assured, with a knowing expression that made her feel exposed. Like he could see right through her.
Everyone else accepted her at face value. She was Holly Stanton, honor student—a good girl who never gave her parents or teachers a moment of trouble. To Brian, she was the perfect girlfriend. Their marriage, which would take place after Brian finished law school and established his career, would be just like her parents’ marriage: secure, successful and safe.
There was nothing safe about Alex. Their senior year he rebuilt an old Vincent motorcycle, all leather and chrome and sleek, powerful lines. Every so often he invited her to go riding with him. She could still remember his blue eyes daring her to do it even as his mocking smile told her she never would.
And she never did, of course. But a tiny part of her had always wondered what it would be like to get on that bike behind him, her legs pressed against his, her arms wrapped around his waist.
Holly came back to the present to find the sink almost overflowing with hot, soapy water. She turned off the tap quickly.
She hadn’t been on a date in way too long—maybe that’s why she was so susceptible to these memories. Why Alex had been able to get under her skin today. Yes, the man was annoying, but he was also gorgeous.
Sex on wheels.
She shook her head sharply and started washing dishes with vigor. No dates lately—that was her problem. She just needed to get out there again.
Holly bore down with her scrub brush to get the baked cheese off the lasagna pan. Maybe it would turn out to be a good thing she’d seen Alex again. Maybe it was just the push she needed to get out of her rut.
No, not a rut. She wasn’t in a rut. She just needed to get out a little more, that’s all. Everyone was always telling her that, even her own son. Maybe it was time she stopped laughing them off.
Holly rinsed off the now sparkling pan and set it in the dish drain. If she was going to embark on a quest to revive her love life, she might want to think about updating her wardrobe. At the moment, she had clothes to meet clients in and clothes to clean the house in. Nothing at all to drive men wild in.
On the other hand, that might be a little ambitious. Maybe she could start with clothes to make men realize she was female. Then she could sort of work up to driving them wild. She was a little out of practice, after all.
Come to think of it, maybe it would be better to forget the whole thing.
Alex felt good. He’d had a great skull session with his young quarterbacks, productive and upbeat. The entire team was raring to go for their opening game. The forecast for tomorrow was sunny and high sixties, perfect football weather, and Alex was starting to feel that rush he always experienced at the start of the season.
Alex glanced up at the Stanton house as he turned off the engine. He wouldn’t go to the door this time. He had no desire to see Holly again, absolutely none.
“Nice job tonight, Will. Get a good night’s rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sure thing, Coach,” Will said cheerfully as he slammed the passenger door shut behind him.
Time to go now, Alex thought as he slouched back in the driver’s seat and looked at the Stanton home through his windshield. Will wasn’t the only one who needed a good night’s—
He froze.
The lights were on in a bedroom upstairs, and he could see Holly as clearly as if she were on stage. Her hands were in her hair, taking out whatever pins or clips held it in place. The next second it came tumbling down around her shoulders in a silky red mass.
She was wearing an old wool cardigan over the pants and blouse she’d had on earlier. She shrugged out of the cardigan, laying it on the bed behind her. Then she undid the top button of her blouse. And the next one.
He had about five seconds to make a decision.
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.
