Home > Books > Beauty and the Baller (Strangers in Love #1)(50)

Beauty and the Baller (Strangers in Love #1)(50)

Author:Ilsa Madden-Mills

She tells him about her mom passing, and he squeezes her arm, a familiarity there that makes me scowl. “Loved that woman. She made the best oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.” He guffaws, a grin spreading on his face, his voice lowering. “I’ll always remember her catching me in your closet under all those stuffed animals. She nearly whipped me out the door. Then she told my mama. I couldn’t call you for a week.”

“Longest week of my life,” she teases.

He chuckles. “I was terrified you’d forget about me.”

I think he’s forgotten about us.

And why is she still standing in his arms?

“I heard you got promoted to sheriff. You look so handsome.” She plucks at his badge and smiles. “You were always my favorite ex-boyfriend. And that’s the truth.”

“Fifteen and thought we were in love; then you had to go and dump me for Andrew.” He bends down and gives her another hug, and I freeze, remembering she doesn’t have a bra on. His hand lands on her lower back, easing close to her waistline— “Anyway . . . back to the boys,” I snap.

He throws me a side-eye, then looks down at her. “I take it you’re seeing Coach?”

Nova turns and smiles brightly at me. “We’re dating, yes. He’s adorable.”

I roll my eyes . . . of all the things . . .

“He’s completely devoted to me. Aren’t you, darling?”

“Completely,” I say with a grim smile.

Lois appears next to me, wiping her eyes. She’s been over at the police cruiser talking to Milo through the glass. “What’s going on?”

“Nova and Jimmy are having a reunion,” I mutter as Nova hooks her arm with the sheriff’s and they walk to the goat. I can’t hear what they’re saying.

Lois exhales as she watches them. “I forgot they had a thing. It was so long ago.” She throws me a look. “So . . . you and Nova? Did I hear her right? Adorable?”

I close my eyes. “Please never walk in my house again unannounced. And I don’t know what Nova is doing.”

Skeeter smirks. “You sure move fast, Coach. You just met her and y’all—”

“Whatever you saw in my house, wipe it from your memory,” I growl.

“I think it’s fine if you wear women’s clothes,” he says. “I ain’t got a problem with it. The guys might be surprised if you wore it out to the field, but they admire you, and I’m sure they’d get used to it. I have a male cousin in Austin who wears heels and dresses. He changed his name from Mark to Mandy. No one turned a hair in my family.”

“Skeeter! I don’t wear lingerie. It was a dart game. She won a round, and I had to . . . ugh. Never mind . . .”

He pats me on the arm. “I’m like Fort Knox. Nothing’s getting out of my mouth.”

“People’s sex lives should stay private. When my Bill was alive, we got up to some fun stuff,” Lois adds.

I exhale. “This is not the place to discuss it.”

Nova pets the goat and laughs up at Jimmy. He takes his hat off and sets it on her head.

“She’s working her magic,” Skeeter says, relish in his voice. “Nothing like stoking an old flame.” He nudges me. “Be good to her, Coach. Just sayin’。 She had it rough with Andrew. You feel me?”

“Of course,” I say with a frown. I’d never want to hurt Nova.

She crooks her arm back in the sheriff’s as they head back to where we wait. Her face is uptilted toward him, and he’s patting her hand. It looks very cozy.

Jealousy whips over me, and my hands clench.

Totally irrational behavior.

They stop in front of us, and the sheriff gives me an up and down, sizing me up.

“Since Nova is vouching for you, I’m going to let them go with a warning for the taillight,” the sheriff says. “I want them to check in with me on Saturday for some public service work. They’ll be picking up trash on the side of the road. In Wayne County. Best not wear Bobcat attire.”

Lois sucks down a shot of her inhaler, then murmurs a heartfelt thank-you.

I head to the cruiser with the sheriff. The boys file out as I put my hands on my hips and give them a glare.

They start with a rush of apologies—

“No. This is unacceptable. You promised me,” I say, cutting them off. “Huddersfield almost got what they wanted: you in trouble.”

They bow their heads and nod. “Yes, sir.”

I heave out an exhale. “Every day next week. Five a.m. Be dressed and on the field for running. Do you think I want to get up that early? I don’t. You won’t be playing Friday night against Collinwood. You’re out. You’ll spend the rest of the week working with your backups. And if we lose against them, that might ruin our whole season. I expect commitment. I expect trust. I expect integrity. I expect heart. Are you showing it to me?”

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