7
Kane
“You are Julie Bristow? This has to be a fucking joke.”
I stared at the woman I had defended last week. But instead of tight cutoff shorts and a barmaid apron, she was wearing heels, a pencil skirt, and a cardigan.
“Oh God.” Her mouth dropped open.
I chuckled. This was fucking sweet.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed, tugging me away from the group of children near her.
“Reporting for volunteer service. You are my sentence.” I felt a primal urge kick in. Something from last week was unearthed when I laid eyes on this angel-turned-devil again.
“I don’t get it. What are you talking about?”
“The judge today assigned me to the community center. Something about helping a bunch of fucking kids.”
I saw the fury in her eyes. “Don’t you dare say that here.” She moved me farther from the group. “You aren’t going to march in here and start dropping f-bombs around my kids.”
“Then why don’t you sign off on this damn piece of paper and I’ll be out of here?”
I lifted my arm and extended the court order I had received only a few hours ago. The paper was crumpled and folded four times. I had almost shredded it in front of the judge, but my attorney stopped me. Savannah was right behind me too. She would have never forgiven me if I did that in the courtroom.
“I don’t need to read it.” She folded her arms across her chest. It was hard to believe the woman I had taken in the back room was living in the same skin as the uptight teacher in front of me.
“Guys! Guys! It’s Kane Hawkins.”
We were instantly surrounded up to our waists by at least fifteen boys. Damn it.
Julie’s eyes landed on mine.
“Could I maybe have an autograph or something?” One of the smaller ones weaseled his way to the front of the pack.
“Not right now, kid. Get lost. I’m in the middle of something.”
Julie gasped. “Hunter, it’s ok. Mr. Hawkins and I were just working on something.” She lowered herself to meet his eye level. “I didn’t know you knew who he was.”
The shaggy-haired boy nodded. “I do. I watch all his games.”
“Oh.” She bit her lip. “Ok. Let me talk to him about some things. You and the other boys go back to club.” She shooed them away and set her gaze on me.
“Follow me, now,” she demanded.
“Hell,” I muttered.
I didn’t take orders from women. And not women I had come close to fucking the way I wanted. I wasn’t done with Julie. Seeing her again was screwing with my head, not to mention my dick.
I thought the cutoffs were hot, but nothing compared to how her ass poured into that tight skirt.
I followed her across the field and inside. It smelled like school. It didn’t bring back the best memories. Her heels clacked along the hallway. She was pissed.
We entered a classroom and she slammed the door behind me.
“How dare you?” she growled at me. Her voice was low and dangerous. “Do you know how many words that little boy speaks in one day?” She took a step closer to me. She wasn’t intimidated by the fact I was well over a foot taller than her. “Less than ten, and most of them are the word no. No I don’t want anything to eat.” She jabbed her finger into my rock solid chest. “No I don’t want anything to drink.” Again. “No I don’t need anything.” And again.
I took a step backward as she advanced, bumping into the side of the desk. “And yet when he saw you, his eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning and you were the best present he had ever been offered, and then you decided to be a dick.
“You were a complete and total ass to him and I will be damned if I let you around him or any other children here. Consider your community service terminated!” she screamed.
“You can’t do that,” I replied, not moving from my place against the desk.
“I can and I will. You just watch me.”
“No. Like you said, that little boy showed more excitement seeing me than you have gotten from him ever, right? And if you call the judge and tell him to terminate my community service, then I will go to jail, and that means no more football for me, which means no more role model for him.” I hung my head. “Look, Julie. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have been an ass to the kid. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
“If you so much as wrinkle your brow at one of these children I will pick up the phone and make the call. Don’t test me,” she threatened.
“Understood,” I replied, standing up straight.
“And you need to apologize to Hunter. Make it right, because so help me God, if he hides back in that shell of his because of you, I will skin you alive. Football will be the last thing on your mind. I promise you that.”