She glanced over his shoulder. “Damn it.”
He turned to see a TV 6 van turning the corner. “Looks like the media circus is about to raise a tent.”
“You’re an ass, you know that?”
“No doubt.” He fought a grin.
“What do you want, Gabe?”
“What the kids want. The gym back.”
She glared at him, then glanced nervously past him.
“Getting closer?”
“All right. You can stay four weeks, but you’ll have to split the space with my after-school program, fifty-fifty.”
He considered that. They could condense the equipment, he supposed. Clear out a few mats. “Make it eight weeks and then we negotiate.”
She glared at him. “This is not over.” She went to the gym entrance. “Attention, please,” she said. The boys stopped marching and looked her way.
“I need to speak to your leader.”
Silence. They glanced at each other, not sure who to name.
“Okay, who called the TV station?”
“I did,” Alex said.
“Then it’s you. The rest of you go in and take your signs with you. Alex and I will finalize an agreement on your behalf.” She unlocked the door and pushed it open for them. The boys ran into the gym yelling in triumph.
Alex stared at Felicity, a look of mild awe on his face. Good God. He had a crush on her. Gabe hoped to hell the kid wouldn’t fold at her first demand.
“Your coach and I agreed that we’ll keep the gym open for eight weeks, Alex, but only if you and I can keep the protest out of the news.”
“But the TV people are already here.”
“That won’t matter if you tell them we’ve worked out our differences.”
“But I want to explain about our rights and fighting for them and all.”
“If you want your gym back, you need to shut down the story. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”
“Shit.” Alex cringed over the swearword. “Sorry.”
They all watched as a guy in a golf shirt with the station’s logo began unloading a camera from the back of the SUV.
“Do we have a deal?” Felicity held out her hand, looking at him steadily.
“I wanted to be on TV so bad.”
“When you’re a leader you have to look out for the group’s interests, not just your own.”
Alex nodded and squared his shoulders, as if taking on a heavy burden. He shook her hand.
“Great. Let’s go straighten this out.” She looked over her shoulder at Gabe. “After this, we need to talk.”
He watched her walk away, her hand on Alex’s shoulder. She wore another designer business suit, this one pale yellow, tailored to fit every dip and swell of her figure. She looked fresh for this late in the day. He could watch her hair float around her head for hours. Not to mention her hips, the way they swayed. And those legs, striding fast on swanky heels. For the first time, he saw why women got obsessed with shoes. The ones she had on made her legs look great. Mm-mm-mm.
She reminded him of an actress. Who? Cameron Diaz. Yeah, in her early films. No doubt men tried to take care of Felicity, though he’d bet she shut them down right quick. She was soft, but steely. The girl next door with a shotgun under her bed she could strip and clean blindfolded.
He’d bet she got underestimated a lot.
He’d be sure not to.
CHAPTER THREE
AT©SIX©O’CLOCK, Gabe headed for Felicity’s office, hoping to talk her out of however pissy she still was from the afternoon’s incident.
The media situation turned out fine. The guy had been sent only to get footage of the protest. With nothing to shoot, he got into his truck and drove off, no problem.
Fired up by the win, his boys had been maniacs in the gym, fighting with total focus, every strike dead center, every kick razor sharp, happily doing all the reps he demanded and then some.
They would wipe the mats with their opponents at the upcoming tournament. Damn, he loved these kids. He would do what he had to do to keep coaching them. Step one was talking this through with Felicity.
He’d changed into a fresh T-shirt—one with sleeves so he’d look more civilized. He ran his fingers through his hair to clear the tangles. He needed a cut, but he was resisting his sisters’ offers to practice on him. He had no interest in having his initials shaved into his hair.
Through Felicity’s open door, he saw she stood on a table against the back wall trying to push up a window. She’d taken off her jacket and was stretched up on tiptoes, poised and graceful as a dancer. He made himself stop staring and cleared his throat.
She turned at the sound. “The window’s jammed.”
He climbed onto the table beside her, inches away. Her face was pink from the heat and there were dots of perspiration on her lips, which still held some gloss. She fanned her face, sending him waves of sweet-candy scent. “It gets stuffy in here.”
He braced his shoulder under the frame and shoved. With a wrenching shriek, the wood broke free and shot upward.
“Thank you,” she said, giving him a blast of those big blue eyes. Each one had a silver starburst in the middle. They held him in place, made him go so still he could hear his own heartbeat, possibly hers, too.
Now the window let in the smells of spring flowers and freshly mowed grass. Before Robert was killed, Gabe had loved this season. Now the new smells made him feel the old loss. He jumped off the table and offered Felicity a hand down.
She bent her knees to one side for modesty’s sake, making him fleetingly curious about her underwear. Would she go sexy, like his ex-girlfriend Adelia, who’d loved elaborate beaded silk numbers?
Simple and sensible were more her style, he’d bet. Maybe a little lace as a tease. He preferred sheer and easy to rip off. Or naked. Naked was the best underwear of all.
“Gabe?” Felicity looked at him strangely.
“Yeah?” He let go of her hand, which he’d held too long, and backed up so she could get to her desk.
FELICITY’S©PALM©RETAINED the warmth of Gabe’s grip even after he let go. He’d definitely been thinking about her that way. She’d felt a surge of unwelcome lust. There was no accounting for chemistry, she guessed.
On the other hand, Gabe
