Page 29 of Falling for Mr. Wright

This was either the worst or best idea ever.

Slipping off one heel and then the other, Sarah stepped onto the field, the ice-cold grass crunching under her toes. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Ryan chuckled and shook his head. “You asked for it.”

“Yes, I did.” She slid off his jacket and set it on the grass with her heels. She backed up a few yards and grinned. “Show me what you’ve got, Coach Wright.”

He jogged a few yards off then stared her down, football clutched in his hands. Sarah couldn’t help but notice how his biceps bulged through his thin dress shirt. There was also something different in the way he was looking at her—a playfulness in his eyes she hadn’t seen before.

She gulped.

He lobbed the ball in her direction, and it soared perfectly into her hands. Tucking it to her chest, Sarah took off toward the end zone. Halfway down the field, though, she glanced back. Ryan stood where she’d left him, watching her with a dopey grin on his face.

Seriously?

She stopped and circled back, tossing the ball back to him.

“Um, while I commend your sportsmanship, that’s not quite how this works,” he said. “You need to run with the ball all the way to the end. Not give it back to me.”

“I wouldn’t give it back if we were actuallyplaying. I’m pretty sure you skipped the part where you try to chase me down and tackle me.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You want me to tackle you?”

“Yes.”

“In that dress?”

Sarah looked down at herself. Whoops. “Okay, maybe just don’t let me win so easily.”

“Okay.” He motioned her to get back into position down the field. “Get ready.”

“I should warn you,” she called to him. “Before I fed the chickens in high school, I ran two miles each morning.”

“Noted.” Once again, he lobbed the ball in her direction. Knowing he’d follow, she grabbed the ball out of the air and ran as fast as she physically could in her dress. Ryan caught up a little too quickly for her liking, so she dodged right and then quickly faked a left, throwing him off just long enough to dash straight for the end zone.

Before she could celebrate victory, Ryan grabbed her waist and lifted her off the ground.

“I win, I win!” she shrieked between laughs.

Ryan gently put her down and she turned around, standing inches from him. “See? I wouldn’t have lost you a game,” she said, hugging the football.

“Nope,” he said, not moving from his spot.

Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was her pesky new football-player fantasy, but she stepped closer into his space. “Are you going to show me how you celebrated touchdowns? I’d love to see you do one of those funny dances players do.”

“I could do that.” He touched her cheek with his knuckle, letting it linger. “But I’d rather do this.”

He leaned down and brushed her lips with his. Just a simple touch of warm, soft skin that left her drifting forward.

And then it was over. Ryan pulled back, his eyes hooded, his gaze hypnotizing.

She clutched the football and blinked up at him, her mind swirling with a thousand thoughts. At the top of the list?

Holy crap. Ryan Wright just kissed me.

Followed quickly by,I want him to do it again.

No. Bad idea. Ryan was her colleague. Her friend. Kissing him would ruin everything. She’d have to quit her job because no way could she pretend like nothing happened, and it would hurt too much to see him, knowing a momentary lapse of judgment cost her their relationship.

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