Playin’ Cop (Heroes of Henderson ~ Prequel) (12 page)

“You two are closer to me than my own brother,” Duncan said in a low, no-nonsense growl. “But I am warning you one time and one time only. Tread lightly when it comes to Annabelle. If you have a problem with me, it’s on me. You do not now, nor will you ever, find fault with Annabelle Devine.”

Dead silence.

“We clear?”

“Clear,” Books mumbled along with Vance, each taking a sip of beer to dilute the tension at the table.

The beverages arrived before any of them could find another word. Together they upended the shots and chased them with their beers. Silence fell again while Duncan smoothed his hands over the rough table surface.

“I apologize. Not for blowing you two rednecks off while I spend time with Annabelle, but for not keeping you in the loop. I guess I just assumed….” His voice trailed off.

“That we would figure it out,” Brooks finished for him, starting to feel like a real idiot.

Vance slapped his hand on the table throwing Brooks a ‘come on, man’ look. “Really?” he said. “You’re going to let him off that easy?”

Duncan grabbed Vance’s arm and shoved it off the table. “Look, asshole. What the hell do you expect? The three of us are pushing thirty. For all your talk over the years about raising your families in your hometown, you had to expect there would come a time when women would actually be part of that equation. Well, I’ve found mine, and I’m ready to move forward. So if that means missing a few poker nights while I’m trying to seal the deal with Miss Devine,
from Henderson
, I might add, I expect the two of you to suck it up and act happy for me. I mean, Jesus H. Christ! Did you think the three of us were going to adopt kids and raise them together?”

Brooks shook his head, feeling every bit the self-important, spoiled child he was. But he almost laughed when he noticed the expression on Vance’s face. There was shock, yes. But also a dawning awareness, as if Vance hadn’t considered he’d eventually have to find a mate.

Brooks reached out and tapped the table in front of Vance. “Hey. Third Base. You okay?”

Vance shook his dark head like a wet dog and snapped out of his stupor. “Holy shit!” he said, looking between Brooks and Duncan, starting to laugh. “Are we really almost thirty?”

“’Fraid so,” Duncan assured him as heaping platters of burgers, fries, and onion rings were set in front of them.

Vance picked up his beer and saluted Brooks. “Then it’s time.”

“Time?”

“Time to do what he’s doing.” Vance pointed his beer at Duncan. “Because we have plans. Big plans.”

Brooks looked up from his plate and into Vance’s eyes. “We’re not thirty yet.”

“What plans?” Duncan asked.

“You know! Our plans. Get Brooks elected mayor,” Vance said, setting down his beer and ticking off his fingers one by one. “Institute our economic plan to bring new businesses and services to Henderson.”

“Which will hopefully stop the mass exodus of young people leaving town,” Brooks interjected. “Like our buddy Lewis who has taken his big brain and multi-million dollar App-designing business right up to fucking New York City.”

“And like your Annabelle,” Vance said. “There is no reason she can’t travel from Henderson to do her job taking care of sorority girls up and down the East Coast.”

 
“Except that I live in Raleigh,” Duncan protested. “I want her to live in Raleigh.”

“You don’t know what you want!” Vance insisted. “What
you
want is to move your own Richmond-raised ass out of Raleigh and into Henderson because once Brooks and I start these plans, the town is going to need a good business attorney, fast. You’ll have more business than you can handle. What
you
want is to open your own damn firm in Henderson and be your own damn boss.”

Duncan turned his head toward Brooks. “Well, thank God
somebody
knows what I want.”

“Then,” Vance continued as if Duncan hadn’t just made a joke, “as Henderson begins to develop, you join Brooks and me in our campaign to get it listed as one of ‘America’s Best Places to Live.’ All this while settling down and having enough kids between us to field a baseball team.”

“Those are some big plans,” Duncan chuckled.

“That’s how we roll,” Vance said as he
reached for the ketchup. Then he nodded toward Brooks. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

Brooks nodded, having already taken a bite of his two-fisted burger.

“We need to find ourselves a woman,” Vance said, right before he bit off far more than he could chew.

Chapter One

Lolly DuVal had not been back inside Henderson High School since the day she graduated five years ago, and she certainly hadn’t ever set foot in the boys’ locker room. But it was a Saturday in late May, classes had been dismissed for the summer, and she had an appointment with the boys’ varsity baseball coach. So here she was, hobbling around on her sore feet, nervously entering forbidden territory, searching for a door labeled ‘Training Room.’

Ordering herself not to be tentative, she gave a good rap on the door and was relieved to hear a voice from inside calling for her to enter. Coach Evans, his back to her stood up from a desk shoved against the wall between the training tables and weight machines and turned in greeting, smiling enthusiastically as his eyes registered her appearance.
 

Holy crap, it
is
him!
 

Lolly was immediately glad she’d bothered with her appearance instead of showing up sporting a wet ponytail and athletic shorts. She’d blown her brunette hair dry so that her high ponytail had a soft curl at the end. And since her tiny, kitten-heeled sandals were the only thing her feet would tolerate, she was forced to wear her favorite red sundress that would have been too revealing on anyone with notable cleavage, but fit her body beautifully, showing off her long legs to their best advantage. She’d even put on perfume.

“Coach Evans,” she said, moving forward and holding her hand out, her head spinning at the sight of him.

Once big man on this very campus and now one of Henderson’s most notorious bachelors, Vance Evans stood before her in nothing but loose-fitting black workout shorts and a pair of well-worn flip-flops. His naked, tanned, and sculpted chest and the extended length of six-pack abs running below it were like neon signs giving credence to all those sexy rumors she’d overheard her older cousins whispering.
 

She dragged her gaze up to the top of all that tall, dark deliciousness and willed herself not to drool. He’d improved with age—that strong chin and chiseled jaw defined a man in his prime. His dark hair was overdue for a cut and starting to curl at the ends, making him crazy gorgeous. “Thank you for meeting with me.” She couldn’t help it. She gave him her most flirtatious smile. “I am Lolly DuVal.”
 

“Lolly,” Vance said, taking her hand, his startling emerald eyes twinkling with mischief. “Our graduate student from State. The one who wants to protect our team’s balls.”

Lolly’s eyes went wide. She blinked and then burst out laughing. “Well, that’s one way to put it.”

“Figured I’d go ahead and break the ice.” He reached for a gray T-shirt draped over a weight machine and pulled it on over his head.

“I appreciate that. It’s not easy talking about athletic cups when you’ve never had to wear one.”

“Now that is a curious thing, isn’t it?” he said, using his fingers to sweep his hair across his forehead. “A female designing a better cup.”

“Sounds like you have your doubts.”

He shrugged his shoulders as he lounged one hip against his desk. “Surely you’d balk if I, for example, claimed to have built a better bra.”
 

Lolly’s lips twitched.
 

“What?” Vance slowly brought himself back up to his full height. “Go ahead. Say what you’re thinking.”

A few beats of silence passed before Lolly decided she had nothing to lose. “I…have heard,” she started tentatively, “that you, Coach Evans, have a lot of experience with women’s breasts.” She rushed on, “So perhaps you would be very qualified to create a better bra.”

Pursing his lips in an effort to hide his astounded grin, it only took a few seconds for him to respond. “Clearly then, you’ve had a lot of experience with the male package. I’d love to hear all about your research.”

“Hmm.” She frowned. “I certainly walked into that.” Reaching into her canvas bag, Lolly pulled out what looked like a squishy toy you couldn’t wait to get your hands on.

“What the hell is that?” Obviously intrigued, Vance moved forward and plucked the gold-colored gel cup from her hand.

“It’s the coming thing! At least, that’s what my partners and I hope. As part of the graduate program at the College of Textiles, students from engineering, chemistry, and design form teams to create something new. Since fashion design is more my thing, my principal responsibility to the project is product testing.

“Since your baseball camp starts in a few weeks, we were hoping you’d ask a few of the kids to wear our cup and give us feedback.” She shook the canvas bag. “We’ve made prototypes in several sizes. They slide into a traditional jock strap, but due to the nature of the gel material they should mold themselves better to the body, feel less bulky, and hardly be noticeable. In theory, the gel is designed to go directly against the body, creating a suction cup effect, eliminating the need for the jock strap. But until we get some of your players to try it both ways, we won’t know if the suction is effective.”

Vance turned the cup over and around, chuckling at the malleability. “Well, it’s pretty cool; I’ll give you that. But it’s already hard enough keeping those boys’ hands out of their pants without giving them this on top of it.”

Lolly stepped in close to snatch her prototype back, muttering about ‘boys and their toys’. She turned it inside out showing him the specifics. “A little heavier than the traditional cup, you’ve got the protection from the titanium shield here, surrounded by the gel material that conforms to the body. We’ve done impact tests to make sure it holds up. Now our concern is the sweat factor. These really hug your…well, hug everything snugly. I’m told nothing moves around. That it feels a lot less bulky between the legs and makes running less abrasive.”

When she received no response, she glanced up.

Vance Evans was studying something, but it was not her prototype. Her eyes roamed his handsome face trying to decipher what he found so enthralling.

“You smell good,” he whispered. “Good enough to eat.”

Her breath hitched.

 
“Lolly DuVal.” His long-lashed lids dropped to partly conceal his eyes. And even though they already stood in close proximity, his broad chest and wide shoulders seemed to be moving in, backing her up. “Have I heard that name before?”

“Oh, ah…well, there are a lot of…um, DuVals running around Henderson.” She felt as if she’d been spun around one too many times. “In fact…my cousin Henry, he’s on your team. He’s the one who suggested I contact you.”

“Hmm. Is that right? You’re from Henderson then?”

“I am,” she said, continuing to back up.

“And you’re clever. The right height. Too pretty for your own good.” He said these things not as compliments, but as if he were ticking off a list. “You busy tonight?”

“I, ah—ooh….” She grimaced, her foot springing off the floor. She reached down to soothe it and bumped her backside into the end of a padded training table.

“You’re in pain.” Suddenly the coach was all business.

“I ran a half marathon yesterday. My feet haven’t forgiven me.”

“Let me guess. You made the mistake of wearing new shoes.”

“No, same running pair I’ve always had.”

“What do you mean, ‘always had’? How old are they?” Without fanfare he picked her up by her waist and plopped her down on the table behind her. He crouched down and slipped off her sandals.

“I don’t know. I guess I bought them when I started college.”

“Scoot back. How long ago was that?”

She slid back until her legs and feet were no longer dangling off the table. “Five years or so.”

Vance’s head shot up. “You’ve had the same running shoes for five years?” he yelled.

Lolly blinked several times, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “Well, I don’t actually run…much.”