Challenging the Center (Santa Fe Bobcats) Read online

  “You could come in.” She smiled sleepily at him, but the effect was ruined by another yawn.

  He chuckled. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “Sure. Tomorrow. Sleep. Got it.” She made the OK sign at him, then kept walking toward her bedroom. The languid way she moved fired his blood and had him clenching his fist as he reached in to close her door, with him on the opposite side of it.

  That… had been hard.

  Kat met the following morning with the trainer Peter had hooked her up with. And immediately knew he wasn’t the right fit. She spent an hour with him, left feeling like nothing had been accomplished— “Let’s talk about our feelings for a while first.” Ugh—and was ready to light fire to her hair just to get out of there.

  “Peter, what are you doing to me?” she muttered as she waited for the Uber to pull up to the apartment’s drop-off area. After a minute’s thought, she changed her mind. “Actually, can you take me somewhere else?” She looked up the address, then gave him the location.

  Ten minutes later, she and her driver arrived. He looked up under the windshield at the building, whistling. “You’re going in there?”

  “Yup.” She grabbed her bag and hefted it onto her shoulder.

  “They know you’re coming?”

  “Nope.”

  “Should I wait?” The added Are they going to kick you out? went unspoken.

  “Nah, I’ve got friends there. Hey, you a Bobcats fan?” she asked as she opened her door.

  “Yeah, ’course. I live here, don’t I?”

  Kat grinned. “Sure. Who’s your favorite player?”

  “Trey Owens,” he answered without hesitation.

  Safe answer. “What about Michael Lambert?”

  “He’s, uh, good,” her driver said, eyes blinking rapidly in a classic liar’s tell. “Really good.”

  “You have no clue who he is, do you?” she asked on a laugh. “Don’t feel bad, neither did I before a week ago.” She got out of the car and closed the door, approaching the building with a confidence she didn’t quite feel.

  Don’t be a wuss. This is for your career. Do it.

  She opened the front doors and sailed in, smiling at Kristen.

  “Hey, girl,” Kristen greeted her.

  “Hi.” Kat paused and adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “Uh, so the other day, you know I was in here working out with the guys.”

  “Oh, I think everyone knows that.” Kristen smirked and sat back in her chair. She wore a ruffled white blouse with a teal skirt and some heels that managed to look both hot and demure at the same time. Her hair had the illusion of being supported by two chopsticks in a messy bun, like it could fall at any moment… but Kat knew it wouldn’t dare disobey the woman who styled it. She was insanely pulled together in a way that might make another woman feel inferior; but then she smiled, and the air around her warmed.

  “Right, so, uh…” Spit it out, Kat. “I’d like to get back there and talk to Caleb if I could. The strength and conditioning coach,” she added when Kristen’s brows went up. “Is that… I mean, is he even here?”

  “Possibly. The coaching staff usually come in through the entrance by the gym, not the front office, so it’s anyone’s guess.” Kristen folded her arms. “I’m surprised you aren’t here for Michael.”

  “No, just coaching advice.” Kat gave her a weak smile. “Do I just go back and look, or…”

  “Let me call down.” Kristen picked up the phone, punched in a few buttons, and while she spoke to someone, Kat took the chance to look around the lobby.

  She knew from being in there earlier in the week that the main offices of the Bobcats organization were attached to their practice facility. The stadium sat in the heart of Santa Fe, but the practice facility was where the team spent most of their time. A person could easily get lost in the winding tunnels that felt as if you were a mile underground even if you weren’t at all. But where the practice facilities were extremely efficient, though devoid of much décor, the lobby of the main Bobcat offices were luxurious, with blue and gold accents everywhere. Stylized photos of past MVPs and other great players graced the walls, and everything shined.

  “Kat?”

  She jolted, then turned back to face Kristen.

  “Caleb is coming down to get you. He’s got some time between small group training since most of the players are watching game footage today.” Kristen smiled warmly. “I’m not sure how much help he’ll be since I doubt he’s ever picked up a racket, but he seemed happy to meet with you. Good luck.”

  “Thanks a lot, Kristen. Really.” On impulse, Kat walked over and reached out to hug the other woman. The other woman froze for a second, then hugged back. “Okay, enough after-school special mushiness,” she added, laughing and pulling away.

  A door opened behind her, and she heard Caleb’s voice. “Kelly, you ready to move? I’ve got somewhere to be, so you’re coming with me.”

  “Coming, Coach!” she called, giving Kristen a quick grin and jogging after the already-departing man.

  Chapter 9

  “Yeah, but Seattle’s no joke, even on our own home turf. The twelfth man is everyone, somehow.” Stephen Harrison rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “Loudest damn fans in the world.”

  “You’re telling me,” Michael muttered. “You don’t have to listen for the audible anymore.”

  “The beauty of switching sides.” Stephen slung an arm around him and squeezed in a friendly way that said, I can crush you with my bare hands, but I choose not to. Michael appreciated the restraint. “Hey, isn’t that your new best friend?”

  “Hmm?” He swiveled his head, caught sight of a ponytail disappearing around a corner, and shrugged. “She had a meeting with a trainer on the other side of town.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “There are dozens of females that work in this building, and you think all of them look the same?” Michael laughed and slapped Stephen in the stomach. “You’re taking that only have eyes for one woman thing a bit far, I think.”

  “Okay,” Stephen said slowly as they rounded a corner. “Tell me what you think about her then.”

  “My— Kat?” he corrected quickly.

  “My Kat.” Stephen snickered. “Sure, whatever you say.”

  “Shut up. I have no clue what her tennis game looks like, not that I’d know how to judge it even if I did. I know she’s a little crazy and maybe impulsive. She doesn’t think about the ramifications of her actions. She acts like she doesn’t care, but I can tell she does. She’s a hard worker, and she loves her sport. I don’t know about talent, but if love is enough, I think she can get there.”

  “Uh-huh.” Stephen’s eyes drifted over his shoulder a little, as if losing himself in the conversation. “But what about her… as in the person?”

  “I just told you she’s a hard worker,” Michael said, nudging Stephen.

  “That’s all you’ve got?”

  “That’s all I’m sharing with your gossipy ass.”

  “Admit it, you like her.”

  Michael narrowed his eyes at Stephen. “What the hell are you getting at?”

  “You like-like her,” Stephen sang softly, mockingly.

  “Bite me.”

  “Admit it.”

  “Fine!” Michael growled. “I like her.”

  “No, say it. ‘I like-like her.’”

  Michael glared. But Stephen wasn’t giving in, and Michael knew the man could play this annoying game all day, including in front of other people.

  Through gritted teeth, he said, “I like-like her. So? It’s awkward. It feels wrong. But I do.”

  Stephen just grinned like a two-year-old.

  Michael shook his head and kept walking. Stephen lagged behind, and as he turned, he found him looking into a conference room. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing, just… nothing.” Stephen grinned and caught up with him.

  “Weirdo,” Michael muttered.

  That’s w
hat you got for getting lost and ducking into a conference room to make a quick call to reception for directions back to the front door.

  Kat stood in the cracked doorway of the room, phone clutched to her chest, breathing deeply.

  So those kisses weren’t just spur of the moment acts. Well, they were spur of the moment, but he did… like her.

  Like-like her.

  Slowly a smile spread across her face. Her manny was in deep trouble…

  As Michael toed off his shoes, he started at the knock on his door. He turned and answered it, finding Kat standing there. “Hey. How was—”

  “Can I borrow your car?”

  “My… huh? Where are you going?”

  “Training,” she said as if he were asking the world’s dumbest question.

  “That was this morning.” He opened his door wider, but she didn’t take the invitation to come in. “Talk to me.”

  “I have to go to training,” she said again, exasperated. “If you want to come with me, fine. But I have to go. I need to get in a session before my shift, and this is the only time he could get me in before I have to be at work.”

  “But you already met this guy this morning.”

  “And realized he wasn’t a good fit. I’m trying someone new.”

  “That you’ve never met? Where did you find this guy?” Her mouth was set in a stubborn line, refusal to play written all over her. “This is insane. Fine. I’m coming with you.” He wouldn’t be shocked to find out she’d hired some guy off Craigslist, knowing her impulsiveness.

  But she simply smiled and accepted the ride.

  “Where are we going?” he asked as he walked toward his SUV. She tried to bypass that for the Mustang, but he grabbed her arm and swung her back around.

  “Come on, can’t we take the pretty?” she asked, batting her lashes.

  “No. Now where are we going?”

  She gave him the name of a gym, and he grimaced. “Not the greatest part of town.” Thank God he’d come with her.

  “Well, I’ll carry a tire iron with me next time,” she retorted, then waited while he pulled out. “I’m meeting him there in twenty minutes. Can we get there by then?”

  “Sure.” If he hauled ass, which he would. “Where’d you find this guy anyway?”

  “Recommendation.”

  “That’s vague.”

  She just smiled and stayed silent for the duration of the ride.

  Michael pulled the SUV into the parking lot and waited a beat before turning the engine off. “You want me to come in with you?”

  Kat stared at him, mouth open. “I… don’t even know what to say about that.”

  “I’m coming in.” He turned the car off, then looked around the neighborhood. Not the best. “Yeah, coming in.”

  Kat rolled her eyes and got out of the car, providing him with a nice view of her tight ass before shutting the door. He followed her in, promising himself he would stay out of it. Promising he wouldn’t worry.

  There was no reception desk, no fancy station for towels and ice water with floating cucumber slices. No assistants or trainers wearing coordinated tank tops there to greet them at the door. It was just a dark place full of sweat and steel and flesh and loud rap cutting through the clang of metal on metal.

  “Little different than your sanitary weight room, isn’t it, Manny?” Kat asked with a grin. She started looking around as if trying to find someone.

  “Whatever. I’ve worked out in places like this.” Not recently, but she didn’t need to know that. And he wasn’t intimidated, for fuck’s sake. He just didn’t think this was the right place for her. “Who are we looking for so we can meet them and go?”

  “Calm down, Tarzan.” She patted his chest without looking at him. That touch was electrifying to his senses. He wanted to grab that soft hand and pull her back to the car, drive back to their place, and hold her hostage for a week.

  Their place? No, the apartment building. Simple mistake.

  A man walked by, his T-shirt dripping with sweat, giving Kat a good, long once-over before continuing on across the floor, plopping his jug of water down beside the machine he sat on.

  “Okay, so clearly the natives are not welcoming,” Kat muttered, then took a deep breath. Before he could ask what she meant, she marched over to the man who had just passed by. Michael started to grab her hand and pull her back, but she was already out of reach.

  “Hey there.” With a sunny smile, Kat paused by the man’s machine. He looked at her like he might look at a gnat flying around his ear. Annoying and likely expendable. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find a De’Shawn Martin, would you?”

  Martin? Michael blinked, then the wheels started grinding. So that’s where the recommendation came from.

  The man who had given her a long look gave her one more. Michael stepped up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. Mine.

  With a roll of his shoulders, the man nodded his head toward the back.

  “Thanks!” Kat said just as cheerfully, despite having almost no cooperation from the other man. Michael bit back a groan as she continued to make her way through the machines toward the back where two men were talking.

  The resemblance was uncanny. If he hadn’t already heard the last name, Michael still would have pegged De’Shawn for Caleb’s brother. Caleb, the Bobcats’ strength and conditioning coach. Caleb, who would have given Kat a recommendation and would have kept business in the family.

  “De’Shawn?” Kat asked of both men, because she didn’t see the resemblance yet. She also barely knew Caleb, so that wasn’t a surprise.

  The man on the right, a lean black man with a shaved head and a sleeve tattoo down his left arm, stepped forward. “Yeah?”

  “Hi. Kat Kelly.” She held out a hand to shake, which De’Shawn did easily. “Your brother recommended you. I don’t know if he had a chance to call yet, but—”

  “He called.” De’Shawn, clearly younger than his brother, looking about twenty-five to Michael’s guess, gave Michael a quick glance. “Bodyguard?”

  Kat laughed. “No, not even close. Manny.” She leaned in and mock-whispered, “I’m under surveillance.”

  De’Shawn just cocked a brow, then seemed to write that off as a bad joke. “Right. Aims, I’ll catch you later, all right?” He and the other man performed some complex handshake, and the other man took off. “Let’s step into my office.” De’Shawn led Kat—and by extension, Michael—to the corner of the gym where a few duffle bags sat on the ground. Then he sat straight down on the floor.

  Clearly, the office bit was a joke.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Kat sat beside him. Michael opted to stand a little to the side, giving them privacy without hovering… much.

  “First off… is that going to be a regular thing?” De’Shawn pointed behind him toward Michael.

  Kat barely looked. “No, definitely not. I’m serious about training. He drove me because I don’t have a car… yet. I don’t have one yet,” she amended quickly. “New to the area. Getting that taken care of as soon as possible.”

  “Whatever. Transportation isn’t my problem. Freedom to train without some husband or boyfriend or Hulk breathing down my neck is.”

  “No,” she protested quickly. “Definitely not my boyfriend or husband.”

  Did you have to deny it so damn fast? Give a guy a complex.

  “Good.” De’Shawn settled back against the wall, legs stretched. “I don’t have professional athletes you can call up for references. That’s my brother’s thing. He thinks I need a boost to my training business. I think he should mind his own damn business.”

  “I don’t need professional references. I need results. That’s what matters.”

  Her voice was so firm, so final, Michael wouldn’t have doubted her if she’d told him the sky was turning purple with orange polka dots.

  “My favorite.” The younger man smiled for the first time. “I’m not conventional. I might ask yo
u to do things you haven’t done before.”

  “Do the same things over and over, get the same results. I’m getting shitty results. Time to change the recipe.”

  De’Shawn leaned forward a little. “You sure he ain’t your boyfriend? ’Cause I might be falling in love a little here.”

  “He’s not a part of my training,” Kat said firmly.

  Why did that sting just a little? Irrational, since Michael would never expect her to be a part of his. Where was this proprietary feeling coming from? He had no say in her life, in her training, in her choices. His job was to keep her out of too much trouble. He didn’t need to take on added responsibilities.

  “I’m waiting in the car,” he said, interrupting the two as they continued to talk. Kat nodded and waved without looking away from her new trainer.

  With a grumble, Michael headed for the car.

  “And then he talked about doing hikes. I’ve never been much of an outdoorsy sort of girl,” Kat added as she followed Michael into his apartment two hours later. “But I think I could do it.”

  He closed the door behind her harder than necessary, locking it. “How are you not an outdoorsy girl? You play tennis outdoors.”

  “Yeah, but I’d be perfectly fine if they moved all future Grand Slams inside. And playing on a clay court or extremely short, treated ‘grass’ is hardly the great outdoors. It’s completely sanitary. The worst element I have to battle is the sun in my eyes,” she pointed out, watching his body fight the tension that had held it stiff all evening. From the moment she’d gotten in the car, he’d been about as chatty and flexible as a two-by-four. “But De’Shawn says by only working out inside, I’m killing my oneness with my environment. And I need to accept the inevitable and acclimate.”

  “Did he.” It wasn’t a question. Michael headed for the kitchen. She followed at a safe distance, sitting on one of the stools that sat at the half wall separating the kitchen counter from the eat-in dining area.