Pete Sebastian, Coach

Chapter One As he climbed the stairs from the workout room, Coach Pete Sebastian’s temper flared. Stupid idea. Just bullshit to get the media off our necks. Parker is obviously an asshole who doesn’t know our team. He’s judging everyone by two rotten apples. The more he thought about the unnecessary upset to his men, the more he burned. The lines on his forehead deepened. His light brown eyes clouded as his step quickened. I’ll teach this jerk something about how to deal with my team. He rounded the corner and stopped at the office next to his. Raising his arms to rest his hands against the doorframe, he leaned his trim, sweaty, six foot two inch body into the space. Pete stared at the person sitting at the desk and raised his brows. “I’m looking for Joe Parker?” A woman, facing the window, swiveled in the desk chair and leveled her gorgeous, big, blue eyes on him. “Yes?” She scanned his body, which was clad in only gym shorts and a tank top, before she rested her gaze on his face. “No, Joe Parker.” “That’s right. Jo. J-o. Short for Josephine. What can I do for you?” She rose from her chair, and Pete’s mouth went dry. Even wearing high heels, she wasn’t over five foot six. She wore a turquoise silk suit, the jacket open, showing a white, silk blouse underneath. The scoop neck revealed enough creamy cleavage to capture his attention. He lowered his arms and stepped inside. Her hips were slim, and her legs slender, but not skinny. Raising his gaze, he noticed blonde hair that seemed to glow, framing an oval face. Her peaches and cream complexion showed a slight blush around her cheek bones, and her kissable lips shined with a bright pink lipstick. Pete had never seen a woman so beautiful in all of Monroe before. Sweat started under his arms as he realized that in a wife-beater and shorts, he was practically naked and sweaty as hell. He probably reeked, like a skunk, and hadn’t shaved. He rubbed his hand along his stubbly chin, as if to hide the wiry scruff there. “And you are?” As she approached him, the subtle, floral scent of expensive perfume wafted across the room, teasing his nose. “Pete Sebastian. Coach Pete Sebastian. Head Coach Pete Sebastian,” he stammered. Smooth. Very smooth, asshole. She laughed politely with the most delightful lilt, her voice slightly throaty but still light. It was a sound he could listen to all day. “Pleased to meet you,” she said, staring into his eyes and extending her arm. He wiped his palm on his shorts, which weren’t necessarily clean to begin with, and blushed when he remembered. Her grasp was firm, confident, just right, and the skin on the back of her tiny hand was soft under his calloused fingertips. He tried not to crush it, but forgot to let go. “Lyle tells me the team calls you Coach Bass? Can I call you that too?” His throat closed up, and his heartbeat doubled. He nodded. She laughed again and gently slipped her hand from his. “What can I do for you?” All he could do was stare. His mind went blank. Christ, I’m forty-two years old, not thirteen. Talk. Say something. What the hell am I doing here anyway? s**t. I don’t remember. The silence grew as he rummaged through his brain for the reason he was there. “Maybe that memo I tacked up by the workout room?” she prodded, her smile warm. “Oh, yeah. That.” Finally, he found his voice. “The men are a little upset about it.” “Oh? Why?” He cleared his throat, recalling that he had been about to tear her limb-from-limb for that stupid memo. Suddenly, the game had changed. “Well, uh. They feel… Well, they aren’t a violent group and… Umm, they feel forcing them to go to an anger management session, when it’s not about them is…” He dropped his stare to his shoes. “You mean they’re pissed as hell?” His head snapped up, and his gaze met hers. “Exactly.” “I figured they wouldn’t like it and wouldn’t go unless threatened. I’m not surprised.” She turned and returned to her desk. The computer was on and a sheet with writing was visible on the screen. Pete followed her. “Then why did you post it?” “Because it’s my job. I’ve been hired to clean up the mess left behind by Washburn and Corcoran. Lyle wants me to set the record straight, that The Connecticut Kings don’t tolerate domestic violence in any way, shape, or form.” “But this couldn’t be Lyle’s idea.” “Nope. It was mine.” “What do you hope to accomplish?” “To show the world The Kings are serious about keeping the violence of football out of the bedroom. This is designed to help the team, not hurt them.” “And if they don’t cooperate?” “Fines will be levied.” She eased down into her chair. Pete stood opposite, looming over her. She looked up. “The guys are gonna rebel. And they’ll hate you.” “I don’t care. I’m not here to win a popularity contest. I’m here to do a job. The Kings will get a reputation as leaders in the NFL for doing this. There’ll be plenty of good publicity about how they help their players cope with life and keep their marriages together.” Pete put his fists on his hips. Getting her to back off isn’t going to be easy. He glanced at her left hand. No wedding ring. Hmm. “So now this is marriage counseling? I thought it was anger management. You’re not married. What do you know?” His tone was huffy. He knew it, but couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice. He wanted to go easy on her, persuade her to drop this dumb idea, but she refused to budge. He dug his heels in. Can’t let some pretty little thing push me around. “Anger can lead to domestic violence, which can lead to the break-up of a marriage. So, yeah, I guess there’s some marriage counseling aspect to this, though that’s not the specific goal of the program. And I don’t have to be married to put those pieces together. Any i***t can see the correlation.” Now I’m “any i***t”? Don’t mess with me, lady. “Are you calling me…the team, idiots? Program? Now we’re talking about a program? I thought it was just a couple of measly seminars.” At the word “measly,” her face changed. Her cheeks flushed. He swore he could see steam coming out of her ears. “If you’re going to belittle my work here, you can leave right now. Coach Sebastian, to quote an old phrase, ‘if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.’ So please take your hostile, argumentative, sweaty ass out of my office.” Pete stepped back as if she’d slapped him. Her eyes blazed as she shot him one last cutting glance before turning back to her computer. “You’ll never get the team to go along with this.” “Your attitude doesn’t help. There’s tons of talk in the league about sending players to anger management. Lyle wants to be a pioneer. He wants to be the first to have a mandatory program run by the team, at the team’s expense. That’s why he hired me.” She changed her tone. “I’m sure he would be disappointed to know you don’t support the endeavor.” Her condescension was obvious. It hit Pete’s pride, and he saw red. “Look, Miss High and Mighty! I just won the Super Bowl for ole Lyle. He’s jumping for joy. I walk on water. So don’t go threatening me. You’re new here. Why don’t you just shut the hell up and observe for a while before you go making changes and trying to boss people around? You’ve got some f*****g balls!” Pete’s voice rose, and his blood pressure spiked. His legs were spread, hands on hips, and anger bubbled up inside his chest as he leaned over her desk. A smug smile curled her lips, belying the flash of fear in her eyes. “You know, Coach, I think you could use some anger management right now. I bet you’d like to drag me outside and show me who’s boss with those big fists of yours, wouldn’t you?” She rose up, her gaze meeting his, but the flicker of fear flashed through again. Her fingers trembled ever so slightly as she picked up a pen and stepped back, putting more distance between her and Pete. He noticed it. The fury drained out of him as the truth of her words sank in. His gaze went again to her fingers. She managed to hide the quivering by grasping the pen so hard her knuckles went white. You asshole. You’ve scared the s**t out of her. He wiped his face with the towel slung around his neck then took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I never meant to scare you.” His tone softened. “But you did mean to intimidate me, didn’t you? To get your way?” He was silent. She was dead right. Shame filled him. He leaned over and slipped his hand over hers. “I apologize. I was way out of line. I’ve never hit a woman and never would.” “But you wanted to. I saw it in your eyes, if only for a second. Even if a man doesn’t act on it, if he wants to, well, it’s a slippery slope. This program would help the players control their feelings before they get to that point.” She took a breath. The fear left her eyes. He removed his hand reluctantly, having enjoyed the softness of hers. Despite her harsh words, she was a woman, and he had been disrespectful. She was new, and he had frightened her with the way he had loomed over her. He’d been way out of line. Pete Sebastian had never terrified a woman before. Not even his ex-wife. “You’ve made your point.” Embarrassed, he beat a hasty retreat. “That means you’ll support the program?” she asked, her eyebrows raised. At the door, he turned to face her. “Let me think about it. Do you have any more information?” “I’m sorting through it now. There’s a lot to go over before putting this together.” “I’m sure you can handle it.” “I’d love some help. I mean, you know the guys. Your input would be invaluable. I don’t want to set up something that’s not right, not a good fit.” “Right now, nothing you set up is going to be a good fit. The natives are restless, and they’re feeding off each other. The sooner you tell them what this is all about, the better.” “You don’t have time?” “Oh, I have time. It’s just this psycho stuff, well, it isn’t me.” “That’s why you’d be perfect to help set up something even the most reluctant man would feel comfortable with.” She approached him. Her posture was sexy, her walk almost sultry. He knew she was manipulating him with her body, but he didn’t care. His eyes didn’t miss one sway or jiggle. “Come on. It’ll be interesting. I need help.” She trained her baby blues on him, and he melted inside. She’d said the magic words. She needed help. Pete Sebastian had never been able to resist a woman in need. Ever since he was twelve. When the widow woman next door had needed her driveway shoveled in the winter, he had been there. When a girl at school had needed help carrying something heavy, it had been Pete to the rescue. Any girl, anytime, anywhere, and good ole Coach Bass was there with a helping hand. Sometimes, he thought it was his penchant for helping that made him such a successful coach. “Okay. You win.” After being an asshole, I owe her. It’s the least I can do. “Good!” She clapped her hands together. Her smile was so bright, Pete thought the sun had shifted and was pouring into her office. “What’s the plan?” She glanced at her watch. “I have to get these releases done. How about over lunch in the conference room? We can spread everything out there. Food is on me.” He laughed. “Pete Sebastian never lets a woman pay. I’ve got to get cleaned up. Meet you there at twelve. You order. I’ll buy.” “Lyle will pay. This is a working lunch.” That’s what you think, sister. He smiled at her. “Sounds good to me. See you then.” He kept from whistling until he hit the executive shower room. As he scrubbed himself down, “Can’t Smile Without You” kept running through his brain. He whistled then finally burst into song. When he returned to the workout room to pick up his stuff, he ran into some of the team. “Well, Coach, did you tell Parker where he could stick it?” Bullhorn Brodsky asked. “Parker is not a he, but a she. And no, I didn’t. Why don’t you guys open your minds a little? This is going to be a pioneering program. We’re going to be the first in the NFL to give our players some help dealing with anger.” “Program? I thought it was one f*****g seminar. An hour and that’s it,” Griff Montgomery said. “Keep an open mind, Griff. I’m going to be helping the lady put this together. At least give the thing a try, will ya?”