Page 3 of Catching Coy
“I do, Miss Bellamy, I really do.” He had the slightest of southern drawls, probably from growing up in South Carolina, but it made the way he said Miss Bellamy sweet enough to melt her insides.
“Coy Jones, you’re going to have eight women in puddles around your feet by the day’s end.”
He stepped closer, still grinning. “Odds are that a few of those eight ladies will not immediately fall in love with me, so you’re going to have to be one of those puddles.”
She almost slapped playfully at his arm but stopped herself. “Boy, you are good. It’s no wonder they got you for this season.”
“Mr. Jones?” A woman with blonde hair pulled up into a knot on the top of her had came up behind Coy, making him turn, but not move away an inch. Had they begun filming yet? Had the stage manager and the producers seen the way Coy was flirting with her—and, okay, the way she was flirting back?
“Yeah, Agnes?” Coy asked.
Ahh, so this was the other producer, the one that would oversee all the onsite details. Bellamy had gotten a few emails from her, but they hadn’t met. Agnes had gotten in late, past midnight, so one of the other crew members had offered to let Agnes into her room instead of making Bellamy wait up.
“We’re ready to start. Come with me?” Agnes put a hand on Coy’s elbow, not looking up from the iPad in her other hand as she tugged him away.
“See you around, Bells.” Coy waved as he headed back across the court with Agnes, and Bellamy’s heart did a flip flop, despite the scowl she gave him over the new nickname. Most people shortened her name to Bell, and Bells was … kinda weird, so why did she like it?
Because she was being an idiot. She had to stop being an idiot.
Chapter Three
Gillian, 29
Salt Lake City, Utah
CEO, Girls Play
“Hearing my name announced and running out onto the court brought back some awesome memories, especially of being part of a team. I’m here to find my teammate for life, and Coy Jones is definitely the one.”
* * *
The almost deafeningcheering, even in this small-town, high-school gym, and the boisterous voice ofThe Catchannouncer had Coy bouncing on his toes. When he caught sight of a camera zooming in on him, he stopped. The reaction to the crowd before a big game was natural to him, but he didn’t want to look too enthusiastic about this. He intended to play it cool and charming. His gaze strayed to Bellamy, across the gym, clapping from the front row. Unlike the women around her, she didn’t jump up and down or wave her arms or scream, but she had an excitement dancing through her eyes; he couldn’t help but wonder what held her back from letting loose like the others. Then he noticed that her stare was zeroed in on him and his heart skipped.
He swung his gaze back toward Portia Hampton, the host, who was striding toward him. She had played women’s professional basketball, and Coy had met her a few times before this. She was a part of the reason Nico had reached out to him to be the nextCatch.
“Ready for this?” she shouted over the cheering around him.
He shrugged and couldn’t help a chuckle. “I guess so.”
The crowd began to quiet, and Portia took the mic, doingThe Catchintroduction and then pausing before looking out at the crowd expectantly. “What time is it?” she cried.
In unison, they shouted back, “Catch Time!”
Portia pumped her hand up a couple of times and turned to the announcer behind Coy, who jumped right into the action. “From Salt Lake City, Utah, CEO of Girls Play and a former UCON point guard, number twenty-six, Gillian!”
The crowd broke into cheers again as a tall woman with long dark hair, curled down her back jogged out from the locker room area. She wore the trademark “Catch” jersey, emblazoned with her chosen number. Coy couldn’t help wondering if it came from her UCON days. From what he knew so far, each of the women chose a number with special meaning to them. Gillian wore dark-washed skinny jeans and a pair of wedges that didn’t slow her down one bit as she headed over to him.
“Hi, I’m Gillian,” she said, embracing him and then rocking back.
“Coy.” He held onto her elbow even as they pulled apart. “UCON, huh?”
“Best in the nation.” She raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“I guess we’ll see about that, won’t we?”
“I can’t wait to get to know you better.” She slid her hand into his, smiled, and then squeezed it before she walked away, taking a seat on the bench behind him at the same time the announcer began his introduction of the next woman.
* * *
