Copyright © 2006, Joanna Whitman
Published by Whiskey Creek Press LLC

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Who the hell does this broad think she is? Fuming, Vinnie McAndrews hurled the football helmet to the ground.

“Coach? What do we do?” Bobby worried his bottom lip while waiting for his coach’s reply.

“Like hell you’re not going to practice before our opening game against Canton High! A tutoring session after school? What a load of garbage! Is she out of her mind?” His gruff voice bellowed in the humid air and hung like rain waiting to fall. “When the hell does she expect you boys to practice? Forget about it; I’ll handle it. Don’t worry guys. Now go on and get suited up.”

Vinnie mumbled to himself about the gall of the new English teacher; probably some old bag that lived with her fifteen cats and had nothing better to do with her afternoons. Well, he had news for her; his boys would be coming to practice—no doubt about it.

Bobby looked uncertain. “But, Coach, she said if we didn’t show for tutoring tomorrow…”

“I said I’d take care of it; now go.” His booming voice sent Bobby scurrying for the locker room.

“Rudy!” he barked, towards one of the co-captains. “I want them warmed up by the time I get back. Run them three laps, lead the stretches, and start the defensive plays. I’m about to go have a little chat with ol’ Mrs. Caliano.”

Vinnie stalked off the field towards the school’s main entrance. This was his first season as head coach, and he’d be damned if he was going to let anything stand in his path of taking the team all the way to the state championships.

The team had been so close last season, losing in the semifinal game by a successful field goal attempt late in the remaining minutes of the fourth quarter. With his returning seniors, a running game that was unstoppable, and a defensive line that was like a steel wall, Vinnie knew that the state champ title could be theirs. No way was this new English teacher going to squash his dream before it even began.

He couldn’t stand teachers who got their panties all in a bunch if everyone wasn’t getting straight A’s, causing scenes about how these students wouldn’t get into a top-notch college. Hell, most of the boys on his team who wanted to go to college would get some form of scholarship; they would do just fine without her meddling in their academics. The others who weren’t college material would go on to learn a trade or join one of the services. Some people just didn’t understand that not everyone was cut out for school.

His old man had sure taught him that early on in life. Sports, not school, were what made you a man. When he told his father about his interest in pursuing a law degree, his dad scoffed at him and told him dumb jocks like Vinnie didn’t go on to become lawyers; their purpose, if they went to college, was to play football.

“English teachers,” he muttered, as he entered the school.

He knew the type. Older, matronly women who used books as a substitute for men. Dried up and crusty were words that came to his mind when he envisioned his own English teachers from high school.

He had seen his own football coaches, from his days of playing high school ball, make the old ladies swoon and forget about the fact that the players in their classes may have been missing a few assignments. Well, he’d just have to work a little of the McAndrews charm on ol’ Mrs. Caliano.

He’d be damned if he couldn’t dazzle her with his charisma; he had schmoozed his way with the best of them. He was used to getting what he wanted fairly easily because of who he was.

Even though this was his first year as head coach, he had been an integral member of the coaching staff for the past four years. In this town, any relation to the DeKalb High football team made you somebody pretty damn important.

He made his game plan as he sauntered down the long hallway, his heavy steps echoing off the walls.

First, he’d have to get her undivided attention. He’d simply tell her that there was an imminent matter that needed to be discussed. If, after stating his point, she didn’t look like she would cave, he’d resort to a little harmless flirtation. Then he’d go in for the kill.

He calmed himself down somewhat and took the stairs two at a time up to the second floor, pulling off his sweatshirt when he reached the top. Hey, a little bit of eye candy for the old broad would help his situation.

* * * *

Sophia Caliano sat at the large wooden desk, shaking her head while glancing over the pre-test scores. They were abysmal, not to mention unacceptable. How could these scores be right? How could juniors in high school miss such easy comprehension questions?

She double-checked her answer key against the scantron sheets where students had bubbled in their choices to various questions. She skimmed down the sheet, hoping to find a stray pencil smudge that led the scoring machine to incorrectly score the answer.

No such luck. A third of the class had failed.

Sophia leaned back in her chair, stretched her arms over her head, and thought of what to do about the situation. She had already spoken to the students who had performed poorly. She discussed their scores individually with them and mandated each to report for after school tutoring.

Working with them in a smaller setting would allow her to focus on their specific weaknesses. With a little extra effort, she would hopefully help them to raise their scores.

The students were definitely not ecstatic about the thought of tacking an extra hour on to the end of their regular school day. Most stormed away sulking and grumbling about how it “wasn’t fair.”

Then there were the football players to contend with. Sophia shook her head and half smiled at the reasons they gave for why they shouldn’t have to attend. They didn’t need English—they were going to play pro football. Scouts had already attended games last season, and they were sure to get a scholarship somewhere.

Oh, the dreams of young boys! She’d had to flat out tell them that attendance was mandatory and would count into their regular class grade. Bottom line: if they didn’t show, they failed the course.

They had stared at her slit-eyed, their hate-filled glares speaking volumes. They knew what would happen if they skipped out on the demand that she was imposing on them. School rules stated that if you were failing any class at the five-week interim report, you were out of any extracurricular activities until the grades were brought up to passing.

They had stormed out, shoving desks along the way. Muttering “what a bitch” and “wait till Coach hears this” under their breath.

When their words had a stinging effect, she had to remind herself that her job was to teach them, not to be their buddy. She wanted her students to like her as well as learn from her. It would have been so easy just to brush the test scores aside, but she knew that part of her job was to help these kids to be successful in her course.

They had high aspirations for making it to the big time in football, and she knew she was in football country, and she didn’t want to water down their goals. However, Sophia knew far too well how sometimes big dreams didn’t always pan out the way one expected them to.

Which was partly the reason she’d ended up five hours—and some change—north of Manhattan.

Okay, maybe it had been embarrassing coming home with her tail between her legs, but she almost never had to feel ashamed in front of her family.

Still, she felt the disgrace, even though they didn’t know everything she’d done to try to reach her dream.

Never mind that now. Back home, with a family who loved her unconditionally, Sophia was determined to prove once and for all that she could in fact take care of herself, without putting her beliefs at stake.

Sophia began pulling some remedial reference books from the shelves to take home to look over for tomorrow’s first tutoring session. Thank God she had lessons planned through the month for her regular classes. Planning an after school remedial unit was going to take time.

Glancing at the wall clock, she saw that she still had time to swing by the hospital to see the newest addition to the ever-growing Caliano clan. Her oldest brother, Dominic, and his wife Kristie had just delivered a baby boy, Frankie, via cesarean section late last evening.

She had seen her precious nephew, all swaddled in his cozy blanket, and couldn’t wait to snuggle him against her again.

How she envied her brother!

Family was something all of the Calianos cherished, and Sophia always dreamed of having a big family of her own.

However, with her history of failed relationships, which had convinced her that she was unlucky in love, it didn’t look like that dream would happen anytime soon.

Besides, she reminded herself, she was through with men—completely swearing them off with her move back home. She would be more than content to live vicariously through Dominic, and spoil little Frankie rotten!

In addition to her newborn nephew, the after school tutoring session would help to keep her mind occupied in the silence of the house. Without busy work, her thoughts had a tendency to wander into the areas she’d rather forget about.

Bending over to grab her purse from the desk drawer, she was startled at the sound of her door being slammed open.

“Mrs. Caliano, I need to speak with you now,” a brusque voice roared at her from the entranceway.

Sophia didn’t care for rude people. Men especially. She definitely didn’t care for the demanding tone of the man who’d just barged into her classroom.

“It’s Ms. Caliano, and you could have knocked,” she replied, still retrieving her purse. “I’m just about to leave; what is it you need to speak with me about?”

Sophia continued shoving books into her bag without looking up. Her new motto was to treat people as they treated her.

No way was Sophia Caliano going back on the promise she made to herself eleven months ago; she wasn’t going to budge an inch in her new mantra in life.

“Uhh, listen, Mrs. Caliano; I don’t have a lot of time here either. Practice started ten minutes ago.”

“It’s Ms. Caliano, and you must be the football coach.” Sophia had finally lifted her head from her bag to take a look at who she supposed was a balding, middle-aged man, trying to relive his younger days by coaching high school football. Instead, she had to force her mouth closed to keep her tongue from spilling out and landing on the floor.

Standing in front of her was a ruggedly gorgeous man. She couldn’t take her eyes from him. This was the perfect cookie cutter image of the men she always fawned over. Muscular, cocky, and dripping with masculinity.

No! Sophia almost blurted out the word that screamed in her head. You’re through with men, remember? Especially this type of man. No more jocks specifically.

“What can I do for you, um, Coach?” Sophia kept her voice cool and disinterested, though the chiseled chest concealed by a tightly stretched Ithaca College tee shirt made her mouth water.

“Well, Mrs. Caliano…”

“Again, it’s Ms. Caliano.”

“Sorry, Miz Caliano.” He exaggerated the emphasis on the word. “We have a problem here.”

“We do? Oh, what’s that, Coach?” Sophia asked, feigning innocence, though she knew exactly what the problem was. She willed herself to stay strong against this man who made her blood surge through her veins. The sound of his voice could very well turn her to putty in his hands.

“I need my boys to be at practice everyday. We’re in the running for district champs this year, and we could possibly go all the way to the state finals. So the bottom line is: your after school romper room study session is out.”

“Romper room?” A string of Italian expletives exploded in her head.

Sophia’s voice began to rise. “Excuse me, but who the hell are you talking to... You know what? I don’t need to explain myself to you. I’ve cleared this with administration. It seems that being literate is a bit more important than jumping on people and slapping their butts, or having a flock of girls lined up as if you are Walter Peyton or Dan Marino.”

Sophia watched him walk towards her, like a lion stalking his prey. His face had turned to steel. He placed two very large hands on each side of her desk and leaned down, putting his head level with hers. She could smell the scent of his skin, like he had just stepped from the shower, soapy and clean. Her skin felt on fire where his fingers lightly brushed her arm.

“Miz Caliano, I don’t know who you talked to, but I can assure you that once the boys’ parents begin calling in with complaints, there will be a reversal in the administration’s decision.”

Her eyes widened when he leaned in a bit closer, knowing full well that he was trying to rattle her.

“I’m gonna have to double check, but I could swear that the entrance to the school is full of awards won by my boys. Funny, but I sure don’t remember seeing any awards for English class in the trophy case.”

She sucked in a whoosh of air.

“Hmm, maybe you just want to make your debut in the spotlight, have a little attention. If you need someone to take your mind off all these books, I’m sure I can give you all the attention you can handle, sweetheart,” Vinnie whispered huskily.

Before she could even reply, he was sauntering toward the door. As he pulled it open, he glanced back at her and flashed a cocky smile.

“By the way, you’re in football country now. Better think twice about who you want to fight your battles against. Have a nice afternoon.”

Sophia sat at her desk, seething. Not only had his words angered her, but what really bothered her to her very core was the way her body had reacted when his fingers moved against her skin. Her arm had been deliciously electrified at his very touch. She willed herself to be repulsed and failed at the attempt.

She finally forced the image of him from her mind with a silent congratulation at holding her own with that macho man. The always eager to please Sophia was no more, she thought proudly, as she packed up her bag and walked out of her room.

When she reached the main office and checked her mailbox, she skimmed the rows of boxes, checking for the name of the coach.

Vincent McAndrews.

She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She remembered the sizzling sensation his touch had sent coursing through her body when his finger skimmed down her arm.

Simply put, the man was drop dead gorgeous. Those athletic, muscled legs, showing just below his mesh shorts, had caused her pulse to quicken. His face almost made her forget to breathe.

The strong chin covered with a week’s worth of stubble, and those liquid chocolate eyes that were so deep she knew she could lose herself in them, made her heart beat wildly in her chest. His prominent nose, with just a slight bump along the side, only added to his rugged handsomeness.

What had really topped it off, though, was the baseball hat he had worn backwards. Sophia was a sucker for guys in baseball hats. Something about a man in a backward cap caused her to lose control.

Sophia scolded herself. She knew his type exactly. She should know better than to be attracted by that kind of man. Based on his looks alone she knew he would be exactly like Michael. And reliving another relationship like that was something Sophia would never do again.

Anyway, if this Vincent McAndrews, super-jock football guru, thought he could bully her into changing her mind, well, he had another think coming. He hadn’t seen Sophia Caliano in action yet.

His last statement to her echoed in her head. “You’re in football country now, better think twice about who you want to do battle with.”

Well, we’ll just see about that! Sophia’s competitive nature overcame her. No way would she back away from his challenging words. If he wanted to mess with the bull, he’d better be ready to grab it by the horns.

* * * *

Vinnie whistled to himself on the sideline of the practice field. There was nothing he enjoyed more than a competition. Though it had been a complete turn of events when he walked through her door, he was beginning to like the idea that she didn’t roll over easily and was ready to put up a fight.

And he could see that Sophia was going to give him a run for his money.

He chuckled, thinking about the spitfire attitude and the flare that shot through her eyes when he struck a nerve.

He almost groaned out loud when he thought of how she was bent over at her desk. Those long, trim legs extending from her drab brown skirt were burned into his brain.

Trying to focus on the practice, Vinnie forced the thought of those smooth, golden calves from his mind, only to have them replaced with the image of her full, pouting lips. Oh, man. Those cranberry red lips would make even Angelina Jolie jealous. What he wouldn’t do to have them... Get a hold of yourself; you got a practice to run. Never mind those lips and how they would feel. Big game coming up. Focus. Focus.

The rest of practice, Vinnie constantly had to refocus his thoughts on the game plays the boys were running through. His mind kept drifting to lascivious visions of the exotic goddess in room 226.

He couldn’t help but envision what was under those frumpy clothes she wore to disguise her body. When she shifted in her seat, the front of her blouse had opened slightly and he caught a glimpse of an electric blue, lacey bra—and the swell of her breast rising over the top.

He hadn’t meant to look, but the damage was done. Now all he could think of was seeing what else she had hidden beneath her dowdy, schoolmarm image.

Yeah, he was going to have to get to know Miz Caliano a great deal better.

* * * *

After visiting her brother at the hospital, Sophia decided to stop at the gym. She was always very active growing up, getting her Varsity letter in three sports by the time she was a sophomore.

She had been meaning to get back in touch with her athletic side for awhile and there was no time like the present, since she was still seething about her run in with that infuriating football coach. She needed to burn off some of the rage that was making her ready to explode.

Her sister, Micalena, belonged to the gym, and swore by their kickboxing classes. She gave Sophia a week’s worth of free passes to try it out.

Along with the need to blow off some steam, Sophia was prolonging going home for a little while. At least until her dad returned from work. Her mother was off at Dominic’s place, helping to get the baby’s room in order for his homecoming. Sophia would kill an hour or two at the gym before going home. By then, Pops would be there, and she wouldn’t have to face the silence of the empty house.

It was in those times of silence that Sophia picked apart what she had done, and what she had let herself become, during the past two years. Even though she was back and had squelched all pieces of the past, times alone opened the floodgates to memories she would rather forget.

She grabbed her gym bag from the back seat of her midnight blue Jeep Wrangler and headed into the gym. Her mind was still cluttered with the events of that afternoon’s conversation with Coach McAndrews.

She was bothered more by the fact that she couldn’t shake the feeling that had overcome her body when he first walked into her classroom than the actual conversation that had ensued.

A man like that could only lead to trouble, she reasoned. Not that she wanted anything to do with him anyway; he was an arrogant, egotistical jerk as far as she was concerned. That type of guy was a prescription for more heartache and was definitely off limits!

In the small women’s locker room, Sophia glanced at the tattered beige rug that had a green, furry, moldy substance growing in from the corners. She quickly changed, careful of where she stepped.

Emerging from the dank locker room wearing snug black pants that hugged every curve, and an equally fitted black and pink top, she saw that the kickboxing class had already begun. She’d have to check the schedule before she left, to see what times the classes were held.

Sophia walked to the main room of the gym and set out for the stair climber. She set the timer for thirty minutes and adjusted the machine for top cardio performance. Staring straight ahead into the mirror at herself, she began pumping her legs up and down, totally losing herself in the methodical rhythm.

When the machine beeped, alerting Sophia that the time was up, she simply reset the piece of equipment with the keypad to the same setting, taking notice of how many flights she had climbed and how many calories burned. She made a mental note of the figures and endeavored to beat the numbers this time around.

She was so involved in the competition with herself, she almost didn’t notice when Vinnie appeared out of nowhere on the machine beside hers.

“So, Miz Caliano, I never would have pegged you as athletic. I figured you to be the type of girl with her head always in a book,” Vinnie said nonchalantly, as he climbed atop the stair climber.

He glanced at her in the mirror to gauge her reaction to his words. He had to steady himself with the handrails when he saw the long legs encased in a second skin of black cloth. His eyes moved upward and almost popped out of his head when he caught sight of her pink and black top stretched tightly across her breasts.

Truth be told, he couldn’t get her out of his mind since leaving her classroom that afternoon. And Vinnie was definitely not the type to let a woman cloud his mind—especially during football practice.

Sophia stared right back at him in the mirror, willing herself not to lose control as his well-chiseled body began to glisten with sweat, while his muscular legs flexed and contracted with each step.

“Do you actually think I care what you think about me?” Sophia responded coolly.

“Yep, that’s why you’re slamming your legs up and down, and you’ve got this look on your face like you’re ready to spit nails.” He grinned back at her in the mirror. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes from her reflection.

“Conceited much, Coach McAndrews?” Sophia spat back at him.

Vinnie roared with laughter. She sure had spunk; he’d give her that.

“I’ll have you know,” Sophia continued, “that nothing could be further from the truth. I enjoy working out hard. Not that it’s any of your business, but I am athletic. I don’t spend all of my free time with books, you know.”

“What do you like to do with your free time, Miz Caliano?” The way he drawled out the question sent shivers down her spine.

“That’s none of your business either, Coach McAndrews, and anyway, shouldn’t you be out practicing with your team or critiquing some offensive plays? Lord knows that is what you do in your spare time.”

“There’s more to me than just being a football coach, you know.” For some reason, it was important to him that she realized he had more depth than that.

Sophia rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, right. The way you came down on me this afternoon, I know your little world revolves around the ol’ pigskin.”

“Let me take you out for a drink and I’ll fill you in on everything else I am.”

“Sorry, I don’t go out for drinks with football players.”

Her words singed him, but it wasn’t the first time he was rejected because people thought he was only about football. He knew that was how he sometimes projected himself, but he needed her to know he was more than that. It was vital to him for reasons he couldn’t explain.

He quickly schemed a way to get her to have that drink with him. It was unfair, and a cheap shot, but hell he had to do what he had to do to win.

“Let’s have a little friendly wager. I’ll bet you I can climb more flights of stairs in ten minutes than you. I’ll even give you a two-minute handicap. If I win, you let me take you out for a drink tonight.”

“I don’t need a handicap, Coach. When I win, what do I get?”

She knew it was stupid to take such a ridiculous bet, especially since she had spent nearly an hour on the stair climber already. However, insinuating she would need a handicap to beat him only made her all the more ready to whip him good.

“Sweetheart, if you win, you can have anything you want. Including me.”

Ignoring his beaming smile at the notion that she could take him as a prize, she instead replied, “Good, then it’s settled. When I kick your butt, the first thing you’re going to do is make sure those boys come to tutoring after school tomorrow. Escorting them if need be.”

She saw darkness cloud over his face, and before he could respond she quickly shouted, “Ready, set, go!”

* * * *

“Aww, don’t be mad, Miz Caliano. You gave it a good shot. You just didn’t realize what you were up against,” mocked Vinnie sympathetically.

“You practically cheated!”

“How’s that, sweetheart? Did I somehow secretly set my machine to record more flights of stairs when you weren’t looking? Or, were you so overcome with my charming comments and rugged good looks that you couldn’t focus?” He laughed as her eyes narrowed and her already flushed cheeks became more red.

He stepped closer to her. He felt heat radiating from his body that he knew was not only from the workout.

He brushed her hair from her ear and leaned in, his lips almost brushing against her skin. “I’ll bet you purposely lost just so you could have a drink with me. Isn’t that right?” Fully enjoying teasing her, he breathed in her lemony scent and had to stop himself from kissing below her ear. Christ, he wanted to taste her, sample that smooth satiny skin along her jaw line.

Shrugging him off, she mustered out a terse expletive and stormed into the locker room.

Sophia kept herself from shuddering at the feel of him so close. A heat washed through her entire body. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to breathe. She hated to lose—especially to someone like Vincent McAndrews.

God, how he grated on her nerves in just a few minutes. Now she’d have to have a drink with him. Sophia squashed the little voice telling her this was a bad idea while she toweled off from her shower.

She argued with her conscience, until she could no longer hear the nagging little voice, then pulled back on her clothes. She’d have one drink with him to prove she wasn’t a sore loser then call it a night. Besides, she really couldn’t see anyway to get out of it. After all, a bet is a bet.

She felt her legs giveaway slightly, as she stepped from the locker room and saw Vinnie casually leaning against the wall waiting for her. His hair was slightly wet from the shower—rich and dark, cut short to his head on the sides and just a little bit longer on the top.

She felt and insistent urge to run her fingers through it, but forced her hands to her sides. Instead, she gave him half of a smile and a semi-glare.

“Parking spots are kind of limited, so it might be best if we just take one car. I can drive and then just bring you back here to pick up your car if you’d like,” Vinnie told her, while they walked down the corridor towards the main entrance of the gym.

Sophia shook her head in agreement; she didn’t trust herself to open her mouth and speak. Her skin burned when she felt him place his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the gym.

No man had ever made her flesh feel like it was on fire before. Especially a non-sexual touch such as this.

What on earth was going on? Why was her body responding to someone who was so obviously wrong for her?

“What’s your poison?”

She pushed away her pesky thoughts by reassuring herself that she would have one drink and then politely excuse herself.

“Apple martinis.”

“Whoa, sweetheart. I’m not sure if you’ll be able to find someone who can make one of those way up here in the North Country. Didn’t you notice we’re a little redneck up here? We like shots of liquor and drinking beer out of mason jars.” Vinnie chuckled. “Anyway, an apple martini isn’t really a drink; it’s just a fancy glass to hold on to. You must be a lightweight drinker, huh, sweetheart? Don’t worry; I won’t make you go shot for shot or anything like that!”

She heard the unmistakable competitive edge to his voice, as if he were daring her. Sophia knew it was absurd, knew he was goading her into something she wanted no part of.

As she stepped on to the running board of his red pickup truck, she looked over the roof at Vinnie, and blurted out the words before she could really think them through. “I’ve been known to throw back a few in my day, Coach. I’m quite sure I could hold my own with you.”

Vinnie rared back his head and laughed loudly while getting into the driver’s seat. “Is that right, sweetheart?”

“That’s right, Coach, and stop calling me sweetheart.” Sophia gave him a sideways glance.

“Sorry, Miz Caliano…” Vinnie sheepishly flashed her his heart-stopping grin.

“You can call me Sophia, Coach.” Sophia awarded him a full smile for the first time.

“And you can drop the Coach from my name and just call me Vinnie.”

* * * *

Vinnie held the door to the tavern open, allowing Sophia to go in first. It was a minor act of kindness, and nothing out of the ordinary, but Sophia was still taken aback by the gesture. It seemed so out of character for such a rough and tumble guy like Vinnie.

As her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, Sophia looked around. The bar, The Wolves Den as it was so aptly named, certainly was a dive. All the same, she instantly fell in love with the stained pine wood floors that could have only seen better days a century ago, and the old cork dart boards without an electronic one in sight. It gave the place a down to earth homey feel that made Sophia instantly at ease.

They found a place at a small mahogany table in the corner of the crowded pub. They had arrived at the tail end of happy hour, and the place was a mix of raucous laughter and loud slurred speech. Sophia had to lean in close to hear what Vinnie was asking.

“What’ll it be, sweetheart? I’ve got first rounds.” When he saw she was about to protest he added, “That is, unless you’re going to wimp out on me and stay for only one sissy drink.”

In the mere hours that he had known Sophia, he knew that line would force her to stay. He felt a little guilty about it, but hell, something about this woman made him want to get to know her a lot better.

With her eyes narrowed she nearly spat the words at him. “A shot of Tequila, make it Jose Cuervo, and a Corona chaser.”

He raised his eyebrows at her and turned to get her request, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Ha! Little did he know that in her college days Sophia was able to drink, with someone holding her upside down, from the tap on a beer keg for an amazing amount of time. She was the reigning Keg Stand Queen of her sorority. She’d show him a thing or two about drinking!

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