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She has a date. That thought rankled, that another man would set eyes upon her perfectly shaped ass, or find out just how soft and plump and sweet her lips were. I couldn’t stand even the thought of her seeing someone else, which was the only explanation for what happened next. “Go out with me.”
She frowned and shook her head, hands fisted on her hips. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?” Joss was annoyed, and it was a good look for her. A damn good look.
“Unless I missed it, you didn’t say that you’d love to go out on a date with me. Did you?” I flashed a smile, the one that normally turned her cheeks a sexy little shade of pink. “Close the door so we’re not interrupted.”
“Jerk,” she muttered and walked to the door, pushing it open even wider. “I’m not here to play your head games, Principal Rutherford, I’m here to talk to you about the team.”
“The team?” I really had lost the thread of the conversation and Joss was not pleased about it.
“The girls’ soccer team. You know, with the second best record in the district and the region?” A low, frustrated growl escaped and I was happy to be seated at my desk since the sound hit me right between the legs. “We need more resources. It’s not fair or realistic to expect them to drive three, four and five hours to play a game and then turn around do it again right after the match is over.”
Damn, she really was here for business. “Life isn’t fair, Joss.”
“No shit. The boys don’t even have to do that for a regular season game, yet still they can’t manage a victory.”
She wasn’t wrong about that either. “It’s not in the budget.” I knew that wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear, just as I knew it wasn’t fair, but it was also very much out of my hands.
“Bullshit.” Joss spat the word at me, her anger genuine and white hot. “Thanks for your help Principal Rutherford.” Without another word, about the date or anything else, she turned on those impressive heels and stomped out of my office.
I shot out of my chair and went after her, catching her just before she disappeared into the teacher’s lounge. “That money is allocated specifically for the boys’ team, and I can’t just move it around because you want me to.”
“So, what happens to all the money allocated to the boys’ team whose season has been over for weeks already? Does it roll over to next year, or let me guess, it’ll go to some big party celebrating the one game they managed to win this season?” Her voice grew louder, but it was the fire in her eyes that I couldn’t look away from, the passion and energy as she raged at me. “Save your excuses for someone who cares.”
“They aren’t excuses.” This was a different side to Joss, and I couldn’t deny that I liked it even better than the sweet and sexy side. Fiery and angry was a good look on her. “That’s just the way things are.”
Her chest heaved and I knew staring wouldn’t win me any points, so I kept my gaze focused on her face until she shook her head in disgust and walked away. Again.
“Joss!”
She stopped and turned slowly, blue eyes shooting daggers at me. “What is it, Principal Rutherford?”
If it was the last thing I did, I would get her to stop calling me that. “About the date?”
She shrugged. “No thanks.”
Ouch. Her rejection wasn’t unexpected, but I wasn’t deterred either. She’d made it clear over the past year that she was interested, and that didn’t just fade.
“I’ll change your mind.”
“Doubtful. Maybe ask the boys coach since he has so much free time on his hands.”
I smiled at her words. “So, you’re saying if I came up with a way to help, you’d have time for me?”
“No,” she snapped. “I’m saying that I don’t have time for whatever games you’re playing because I have to figure out how to help my team.”
Dammit, I wanted Joss, and I didn’t care that she worked for me, or that things would definitely get messy. I just wanted her.
Now I just had to figure out a way to have her.
Joss
“Just who in the hell does he think he is? And furthermore, what kind of game is he playing?” I was rambling, or maybe I was babbling. Whatever I was doing, it had been going on for about fifteen minutes and two drinks. “Sorry. Even I’m getting sick of the sound of my voice.” Mara and I had come up to The Mayflower for a drinking and ranting session, and we found Eva and Sophie already halfway through a pitcher of margaritas. “How are you guys?”
Mara shook her head. “Don’t look at me. I’m fine. You, on the other hand, are confused. As hell.”
