“Ma’am,” the ref—a woman with a no-bullshit attitude—warned from her spot on the grass. “Return immediately to the sideline.”
Laughter rolled in from the opposite bench, and Adalyn spun. “Maybe she should be more concerned about her little team.” The Bears’ coach gave her a once-over that made something in my stomach turn. She lowered her voice, “Go home, princess.”
Princess.
The word was lost on those not paying attention, but not on Adalyn and me.
“Excuse me,” Adalyn squeaked, her voice hiking an octave. She veered in the coach’s direction. “With all due respect, ma’am, I am not—”
My arm shot out and I dragged her back, toward me, until she was plastered against my side. A whiff of that lavender scent hitting me right in the nose. “Absolutely not, darling.”
Adalyn seemed distracted for a moment because it took her a bit to answer. “She called me a princess,” she finally said. My throat clogged for an instant. I had too. “And she’s mocking you and the team. I won’t allow that.”
Something softened inside my rib cage, appeasing me. But while I was as shocked as I was flattered by that defensive strike, I was also protective of keeping my anonymity, and there was a rather large crowd around. “I don’t know, boss. I say we be the bigger people and ignore her.”
I felt the tension in her body fly away. My arm was still around her. “You just called me boss.”
So I had. I searched our surroundings quickly, checking for curious eyes. Everyone but the other coach seemed distracted by the game. Ah, hell. “Remember how you said earlier we shouldn’t worry?” She nodded. “I think we should.”
“I could still get the ref to suspend that woman, you know?” she piped in. But her voice was softer. Calmer. “I’m convincing. And I also know very important people in the PRO.”
A chuckle escaped. It wasn’t the first and I was beginning to understand that it wouldn’t be the last, either. “I don’t think your contacts in the PRO are relevant here, darling. This is a little county league.” She grumbled, and my arm shifted, my fingers helplessly reaching forward and brushing that top I’d been eyeing before letting go. It felt like satin. She didn’t complain. “Let’s meet on Monday.”
Her chest expanded with a breath, and when she spoke it was only one word, “Why?”
Fuck if I knew, honestly. “Seems like we have work to do.”
Adalyn hesitated for an instant, but then she stepped closer until the tips of those shoes I despised touched my boots. She lifted her chin, assessing me. There were tiny freckles on the bridge of her nose. “I see,” she said slowly. “Maybe you have a third mode after all. Besides self-important and annoyed.”
I knew I did.
And without me really knowing how, that switch had just been flipped.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Adalyn
“My dearest Green Oak volunteers,” Josie said, opening her arms with a flourish. “Welcome to Green Oak’s annual BBBBL, or as we all know it, Beer, Barbecue, and Boogie By the Lake.”
Diane cleared her throat from the first row.
Josie’s smile tightened. “Yes, Diane?”
“Why did we change the name again?” she asked, making Josie’s lips stretch. “This was supposed to be our end of summer party by the lake. It should have been weeks ago, the last week of August, like every year.” That head of bright yellow turned in the direction of the stands. “Where are the corn dogs or the mini glazed donuts? We’re also serving more than just beer. And while you’re at it, I still don’t understand what you mean by boogie.”
Josie let out a chuckle that didn’t sound as lighthearted as she’d hoped, if I had to guess. “Well, Diane, if you would have paid a little attention during our spring council meeting, you’d remember that we were trying to spice things up for the upcoming seasons. You know, to bring in more people from all over the county with fun and catchy events that have fun and catchy names. Hence the boogie, hence the barbecue, hence the craft beer and hence”—her voice went high—“the change of name.”
“But there’s a coffee booth,” Diane countered. “And our end of summer party was fine. It was the best one in the county, if I may say so myself. I don’t get why we need to be attractive to folks from other towns.”
Josie’s whole expression bunched up as she launched herself into another discourse about why change was good.