could say a word, he saw the boys’ attention drawn in the distance behind him. He turned and saw Asher walking toward them, dressed for practice. Next to him, an annoyed-looking Hotchke.
“Found this in the locker room, Coach,” Asher said.
Hotchke didn’t make eye contact with Cole. Instead, his gaze focused steadily on the grass between them. Asher pushed Hotchke with his shoulder, and the kid finally looked up.
“Sorry for disrespecting your lady friend, Coach,” Hotchke said.
Cole glanced at Asher, then back at Hotchke. “Forgiven,” Cole said. “So long as you keep that trash talk out of my locker room and off this field. Better yet, don’t talk like that at all.”
Hotchke nodded.
Cole took a step toward him, barely a foot between them now. “The world has enough guys treating women like dirt, Hotch. It’s so unoriginal. Be a better man.”
“Yes, Coach,” Hotchke said.
“Now, take a lap.”
Hotchke appeared to be trying not to roll his eyes, but Asher grabbed his arm, and the two of them ran off toward the track.
And the sight of their obedience made Cole feel for the first time in a long time like his team had a shot. He and Bilby split the boys up for drills, and Cole cast a sideways glance at Asher. The kid tossed him a look, then a barely detectable nod, as if to let him know everything was good between them.
They’d been running drills for about forty-five minutes when Bilby made his way over to Cole.
“They look good today,” he said. “Asher’s got a fire I don’t think I’ve ever seen.”
Cole kept his eyes on the field. “He sure does.”
“You have something to do with that?”
Cole shot Matt a sideways look, the remnants of their unpleasant conversation playing on repeat in his mind. Cole shook his head. “Doubt it.”
But what if it had? What if something he’d said had gotten through to Asher? What if that moment out on the field at Haven House actually made the kid want to turn his life around?
That, not winning games, needed to be his goal. He talked to the boys about being better men—wasn’t it time he took those words to heart himself?
“What’s this?”
Cole tracked his assistant coach’s gaze to the parking lot, where the now-familiar black Jetta had just pulled in. Clearly, Charlotte still hadn’t called the rental place about the damage she’d done to the car. Maybe he could have it fixed for her.
Good grief, what was he thinking?
“You’re going to need to fill me in on the story here,” Bilby said.
He didn’t care that Charlotte was there, but he wished she would’ve waited a few more minutes so the guys would stop razzing him, especially given the way things had exploded that morning over a comment about her.
“No story,” Cole said, squinting.
She got out of her car and waved at him like he was a long-lost friend she couldn’t wait to hug.
“Oh, yeah. No story.”
Cole didn’t wave back. Instead, he grunted, then pulled the guys together in a huddle at the center of the field. His plan was to give them a quick pep talk and send them off, hopefully before Charlotte reached them.
Instead, Hotchke and Dunbar noticed her approaching, and they both took off their helmets and stared.
“Gentlemen,” Cole said, but it was no use. He glanced at Charlotte, who wore a pair of jean cut-offs and a tank top that was perfectly modest, but that seemed to be having quite the effect on his team. He could never compete with her for these boys’ attention.
Truth be told, they wouldn’t have been able to keep his attention either when she was around, not that he’d let anyone else ever know that.
He scanned the circle, and for whatever reason, he didn’t want them looking at Charlotte the way they were all looking at her now.
For her part, Charlotte seemed completely oblivious to the effect she had on his team.
How was it possible she had no idea how beautiful she was?
Gemma had always liked to be looked at, and she knew when she had a man’s attention. It was some kind of game for her—one Cole never had a chance of winning. Charlotte, on the other hand, showed up here looking adorable, wearing a broad smile and an expression that somehow said, Hey, can we be friends?
Not that friendship was on these boys’ minds.
She was carrying, he now noticed, a box of Dandy’s Donuts, and as soon as she reached them, he got a whiff of the sugary dough.
First flowers, now