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“Kathryn. Please.”
Chapter Two
His strong legs looked exactly the same.
Kathryn’s pulse raced, but she steadied herself as she led Maya toward the Pee Wee soccer field. Brett stood with his back to them, talking to another parent. He was wearing sports shorts and a T-shirt, coach fare. His jet-black hair still fell to his collar in unruly waves.
Her stomach knotted. How was she going to get through this?
She looked down at her adorable daughter, so cute in her shin guards and cleats.
Maya. That’s how she would get through this. For Maya.
Once she was within speaking distance, she cleared her throat. “Mr. Falcone?”
He turned, and Kathryn melted into a puddle. Age had been kind to the Italian Stallion. Tiny streaks of silver threaded through the silky hair at his temples. Dark stubble graced his jaw line. His dark brown eyes still appeared black, and the lashes were still long and thick. Those lips—once firm and supple upon her own—were still red, full, and gorgeous.
And his athlete’s body? Oh yeah, there it was. She remembered as though it were yesterday instead of twenty years ago. That flat belly, those strong virile arms, the corded neck, the hard muscled chest.
He looked at her, cocked his head, as though he were trying to place her.
She held out her hand, willing it not to tremble. “I’m Kathryn Abbott, and this is Maya.”
His gaze pierced hers and she knew the second recognition hit.
“I’ll be damned. Kathryn Zurakowsky.”
She smiled, her lips quivering. “Abbott now. How are you, Brett?”
“Can’t complain. You?”
She nodded. “Life’s been good. So how did you end up coaching?”
“My daughter’s playing. That’s her, with the dark hair.” He motioned to a little girl kicking a soccer ball in short kicks across the field.
Kathryn nodded. She raked her gaze over his left hand that hung at his side. No wedding band. But he had a daughter on this team, so he must be married. He probably just took off his ring to play soccer. Made perfect sense.
“So this is Maya, huh?” Brett knelt down. “Hi Maya, I’m Coach Brett.”
“Hello,” Maya said shyly.
“I know your mommy from a long time ago.”
“When she was little like me?”
“Not quite that long ago.” Brett laughed. “Are you excited to play soccer?”
“Oh yeah!” Maya clapped her hands together.
“I’m hoping she got her father’s athletic talent,” Kathryn said. “As you’ll recall, I don’t have any.”
Brett ignored her comment. “You ready to start kicking a ball, Maya?”
“Sure!”
“Okay then.” He took her hand. “Mommy’ll stay here and I’ll take you to
meet the rest of the girls on the team.”
