Until We Touch (Fool's Gold #15)

“You played well today, Jack,” the mayor said by way of greeting.

He nodded cautiously. The small windowless conference room only had one exit. And right now, it looked very far away.

He tried to distract himself from his sense of dread by paying attention to details. The mayor, for example, wore a suit, like she always did. With pearls. They were at a golf course. Couldn’t she lighten up? Put on some jeans and maybe a T-shirt?

Trying to generate the image required more imagination than he had, but the effort was enough to allow him to relax a little.

“Jonny Blaze seems nice enough,” the mayor added. “Although he needs a little maturing.”

Jack held up both hands. “If you’re asking me to take him—”

“Not why we’re here,” President Newham said. “Jack, we wanted you to be the first to know that we’re moving ahead with reactivating the football program at Cal U Fool’s Gold. The regents have approved preliminary funding.”

He stared at her. “That’s great. I’m surprised they came through. It’s going to take a lot of work, but in the end, you’ll add to the prestige of the school and the bottom line.” He started to add it would be a win-win, but something about the way both women were looking at him made his mouth go dry.

“What?” he asked, his voice a little higher than he would like.

“There’s a condition,” Mayor Marsha said. “For the funding.” She and the university president exchanged a look.

“They’re very specific about who they want running the program,” President Newham added. “And that person, Jack, is you.”

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, Jack was still randomly telling people no. He’d said it to the mayor, the university president and neither of them had listened. Percy had thought the news was cool and Larissa had stared at him as if he’d just solved every animal welfare problem on the planet. Even Taryn had nodded sagely and said she could see him taking on something like that.

What no one seemed to remember was that he didn’t get involved. Ever. He wasn’t that guy. He was the one who wrote the check. Other people did the work. Other people got involved. Other people cared. He was heartless Jack and he liked it that way.

He joined the other players on the course. Jonny Blaze looked as if he’d been at it all night. Jack knew he’d slept just as little, but for far less fun reasons. He’d tried, but he’d been unable to relax. Him start a football team? He wasn’t a coach. He didn’t know the first thing about coaching. He wasn’t the guy the university should depend on to get the program up and running.

He had to explain that. Yesterday he’d said no. They’d pressed him. Unfortunately he’d been too shocked to do more than promise to think about it. But now...

The guys and their caddies headed toward the tee. The two pros went first. Jack carried his iron in his hands. Jonny Blaze stepped close to him.

“You’re doing good,” the action star said. “Only five strokes behind the pros. My last two holes yesterday really blew.” He yawned. “I’m feeling more on my game today.”

Jack wondered how that was possible. “Good luck with that.”

“Thanks.” Jonny nodded toward Percy. “You must have been about twelve when you had him. You have the same eyes. His mother must have been hot as hell.”

It took a second for the meaning of the words to sink in.

Jonny thought Percy was his? Jack felt the noose of responsibility tightening around his throat. He didn’t need one more thing right now. He was already getting in too deep with Larissa and now the college coming after him to be the coach?

“He’s not mine,” he said quickly. “He’s a responsibility that won’t go away.”

As soon as the words were out, Jack regretted them. None of this was Percy’s fault. Besides, he liked the teen a lot. Sometimes helping Percy was the best part of his day.

But before he could say any of that, he heard a crash. He turned and saw the teen had dropped his bag of clubs onto the grass and was running in the opposite direction.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

LARISSA STOOD ON the porch of the large house and waited for someone to answer the door. Taryn had found the address for her, although it had taken nearly a day and a half. Apparently halfway house locations weren’t heavily advertised.

The front door opened and a woman in her mid-thirties stepped out. She was pretty, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. “Yes? Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Percy,” Larissa said. “I heard he was here.”

The woman hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Sure. What’s your name?”

“Larissa.”

“I’ll tell him you’re here.”