DEAR COACH'S DAUGHTER: A Curvy Girl Romance (SINCERELY YOURS Book 14) Read online

  “Brownies are my favorite,” I say without thinking.

  She stares at me like that was the last thing she was expecting me to say.

  “Well, duh.” She throws up her hands like what I said is the most obvious thing. “They are amazing. But it’s not a name you give your kid.”

  I reach out and push a loose strand of hair from her face. “I think it’s fitting. Both are sweet and delicious to eat."

  Her mouth drops open, and her cheeks flush nearly as pink as her full lips. A deep voice clears its throat behind us, making us jump apart.

  “Let’s go, kiddo,” Coach interrupts. I don’t miss his thick eyebrow ticking up again. “Delaney.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You better rest up tonight. Tomorrow is going to be a grueling practice.”

  I don’t miss his double meaning. He saw everything, and he's going to make me pay tomorrow. I steal one more glance at Brownie before I nod and head out to the player's parking lot.

  She’s worth every wind sprint I will be running tomorrow.

  3

  BROWNIE

  As if it wasn’t hard enough to get Hunter out of my mind, his face is plastered all over the news and social media. I can't get away from him. And if I'm honest, I don't want to either.

  “It’s not funny,” I say to Taylor the following day.

  I’ve spent much of the morning looking for a job. I didn’t have a lot of time to find something new before moving back home. After his heart attack, I knew I needed to get back here as soon as possible. I’ve been doing some freelance web design, but that’s not sustainable in the long run for me. And I’m not going to ask my dad for money.

  “That’s where you are wrong, Bea. This is hilarious. The first guy that catches your eyes in almost a year, and he’s on your dad’s team. I guess your rule about dating football players has gone out the window.”

  “No. It hasn’t.”

  This stops Taylor’s laughter. “Are you serious? You are going to let one asshole football player from ten years ago ruin a chance at a future with Hunter Delaney?"

  “We met once. There is no future.”

  “I saw the way he was looking at you. And for that matter, the way you were looking at him. Don’t be an idiot and let love slip through your fingers because of some stupid rule you made when you were a heartbroken teenager.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this,” I say. “Quit trying to distract me. I need to find a job unless you want me to keep staying in your spare room rent-free."

  "By all means, mooch. Please don't let me stop you from finding a job."

  “You love this mooch.” I chuckle and bat my eyes at her.

  She shrugs like she could take me or leave me before cracking a smile. “You’re just okay.”

  The apartment buzzer rings.

  Taylor gets up to answer it. “Yes?”

  “Delivery for Brownie Moreno.”

  Taylor looks at me, but I shake my head, not knowing what it could be. All my stuff was delivered a couple of days ago. She buzzes up the delivery guy. I set down my laptop and open the door.

  As the guy walks up the steps on the landing, I can see what looks like a bouquet of some sort, but it doesn’t look like flowers. He stops at the door holding whatever is in his hand delicately.

  “Brownie Moreno?”

  “That’s me.”

  “This is for you," he says, holding out an envelope and then hands me the bouquet. I scribble my name with my finger on the electronic pad he holds out to me.

  “Thanks.”

  "Have a good one," the delivery guy says before heading back down the steps.

  “What is it?” Taylor asks from behind me.

  I turn around to show her. “It’s a bouquet of brownies.”

  There are twelve heart-shaped brownies with red frosting on them. Each one perched on a long white dowel and wrapped in a brown burlap cloth with a red ribbon tying it all together.

  “Oh, he’s good.” She plucks one brownie out of the edible bouquet and starts walking down the hall to her room, chuckling to herself. “You are so screwed.”

  She’s not wrong.

  Taking my treats over to the couch, I set them down on the coffee table and sit down. I flip the envelope over in my hands. It doesn’t say who it’s from, but it’s pretty obvious who sent it. Opening this envelope could change everything, but the temptation to find out what he wrote is stronger than the pull of the desserts sitting in front of me—and that’s saying something.

  * * *

  Dear Brownie,

  Well, I'm taking it as a good sign that you've opened this letter. I'm hoping that means there is still a chance you might consider giving in to your animalistic desires for me. Wait, why are you laughing? Okay, I’m only kidding. Unless you do have animalistic desires for me, and I will not stop you. I've gone back and forth in my head about this, and I finally decided that I don’t want to look back on my life and wonder what could have been different if I just took a chance and told the gorgeous woman I met briefly that I can’t stop thinking about her. I know that your dad is my coach, which complicates things, but anything worth having is worth fighting for. I know that we’ve only just met, and what I feel for you doesn’t make sense, but if you give me a chance, I promise I won't drop the ball. So please take a chance on me.

  Sincerely Yours,

  Hunter #7

  * * *

  Shit.

  I finish the letter and read it again and then again and then again. How is it possible that someone I've only met a couple of times has so quickly gotten under my skin?

  I force myself to put down the letter, plucking out a brownie to eat the roller coaster of feelings I’m going through right now. Three brownies in, I start to feel sick from the sugar rush and my heart thumping to the beat of his name. Hun-ter. Hun-ter. Hun-ter.

  My phone rings next to me, making me jump. A still I stole off the internet of my father jumping up in celebration after a nail-biter victory flashes on the screen.

  “Dad? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, kiddo. Stop freaking out,” he sighs. “The doctor said that as long as I keep up with the changes I’ve made to my diet and stress management, I have no reason to think that I will have another attack. You worry more than your mother did.”

  “I can’t help it,” I admit, not wanting to finish the whole sentence.

  I can't help it. You are all I have left.

  “I’m calling because I need a date tonight for an event with the team.”

  Hunter’s face immediately flashes in my mind. I try to push away, but it’s getting harder and harder.

  “What’s the event?”

  “It’s at the children’s hospital downtown. Every year the team goes, and we help raise money. The kids love hanging out with the guys.”

  “That sounds amazing.”

  “So you’ll come?” he asks, and I don’t miss the eagerness in his voice.

  “Of course.”

  4

  HUNTER

  The only thing that has the power to keep my mind off Brownie is putting out any last-minute fires for the event tonight. I don’t want to let down the kids. They look forward to it every year. And so do I.

  I’ve been here all afternoon and, in my rush to get here, I forgot to bring my suit. Thankfully I caught Ramirez before he left. We live in the same building, so he could just stop by my place to pick it up.

  "Thanks, man," I tell him when he hands me the garment bag. "And my shoes?"

  "You said grab your suit. You didn't say anything about bringing you shoes."

  “I thought it went without saying that if I needed my suit, that I wouldn’t have my dress shoes with me,” I groan.

  "Well, apparently, it did need to be said."

  We both look down at the red Chucks I have on. My suit is navy, and I have red polka dots in my tie, so maybe it won't be so obvious that I had to wear these. Maybe since it’s an event for kids, people will
think that I did it on purpose.

  “Have you heard from her?” Ramirez asks, fidgeting with his tie.

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “This goes without saying—” He gives me a pointed look. "But you put your number in the letter, right?”

  My heart sinks in my chest. “Damn.”

  "Hunter, what the hell, man?"

  I run my hand over my face. “I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to get it sent over to her.”

  “I flirted shamelessly with Doretha in the manager’s office for you to get her address to send the flowers. And you didn’t give her a way to contact you?”

  “I didn’t send flowers.”

  “You said you sent a bouquet.”

  “I did.”

  Ramirez stares at me like I’ve grown a separate head.

  "Mr. Delaney," Greta, the hospital administrator, runs over and interrupts us. “You are going to want to get changed. The guests are starting to arrive.”

  “Thanks,” I tell her and turn to Ramirez. “No flirting with the nurses tonight.”

  “I can’t make any promises!” he calls after me.

  I change in Greta’s office and quickly run my bag out to my car. With the way, my mind has been stretched so thin. I'd likely forget this too.

  All of the team shows up, they stop out front and take pictures for the news outlets, but I slip around the crowd. I don’t do this for the publicity. I have my reasons, and I'm not going to exploit that for some good press.

  It’s great seeing so many of the families the foundation helped over the years return to do what they can to help a new generation of families. I make my rounds, but I can't wait for a chance to catch up with the kids. Seeing their smiling faces makes even my roughest day better.

  “Can I have everyone’s attention?” Greta asks from the podium. She waits until the audience quiets down. “I’d like to thank you all for coming out here tonight. As many of you already know, tonight is a night we’ve celebrated for many years. It's a chance to raise money to assist families with treatments for their little ones financially. So please open your wallets and your checkbooks because we have many wonderful prizes you can bid on to help families focus on what is really important—the health and healing of their ill children.”

  “I’d like to call up the man who makes this evening possible, Hunter Delaney.”

  The audience claps, and many of the guys on the team cheer as I walk up on stage. I’m so grateful they are willing to volunteer their time for this cause. They are able to give this cause the spotlight it needs to help so many.

  “Thank you, Greta,” I say to her and turn to the crowd. My gaze catches on a curvy blonde in the back standing near Coach.

  She’s here.

  * * *

  BROWNIE

  My dad gave me no warning about what tonight's event was all about. Hunter's eyes find me in the crowd, and I swear I can hear my pulse in my ears. His gaze sweeps up and down my body, and it feels more intimate than when my last boyfriend touched me. Why does he have such a pull over me?

  “This night holds a special place in my heart. Like many of you, my family fell on hard times when my older brother, Zach, was diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia that resulted in many expensive experimental treatments that my parents could have dreamed of finding the money for, so the bills piled up quickly. I saw the toll it took on my parents, who were not only dealing with the worst possible thing that could be happening to their child but wondering how they were going to pay for it. We were lucky when an anonymous donor stepped in and paid for everything. Allowing my parents to focus on the care of my brother. Our family, unfortunately, didn't have the happy ending we were hoping for, but that didn't stop me from wanting to pay it forward when I could. So I started the Zach Delaney Memorial Foundation to assist families during the hardest times in their lives. To date, we’ve assisted over three hundred families and hope to keep that number growing with your help tonight.”

  I look at my dad. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to say a word. At a young age, he lost his own brother, not to a disease but a bike accident that caused irreversible head trauma. I know what this means to him and how he must see a part of him in Hunter.

  I slip my hand into his and squeeze it tight. He squeezes back.

  “So without further ado,” Hunter continues. “I’d like to officially open up the bidding for the silent auction and hope you have a wonderful evening.”

  My dad and I walk around writing down bids for different prizes. I don’t miss that he writes in bids twice as high as the highest bid on some of the pricier items. Some of the family members—the dads mostly—recognize him and gather around him to shake his hand and take some pictures. I take this moment to step away and look for Hunter.

  I thought that when he saw I was here that he'd come and find me after his speech. I've read his letter a few dozen more times today, and it's folded up in my clutch right now.

  I see a few kids run down a hall off the area where the event is happening. I can hear the sound of giggles followed by the booming sound of Hunter’s laughter.

  Following the melodic giggles, I peek into one of the rooms and see it's a big playroom with blue walls painted with white fluffy clouds. Toys litter the floor, and the kids are all running around. Hunter is pretending to be a monster and chasing them. Kids are hanging off him like they are trying to pull him down to the ground.

  I pull out my phone from my clutch and take a little video. It's the cutest thing I've ever seen, and I'm pretty sure my ovaries are panting at the sight.

  Hunter notices me in the doorway. Unfortunately, his distraction allows one of the little boys to run at him full force and slam into his stomach. He doubles over and coughs, trying to catch his breath.

  “Time out!” he wheezes, using his hands to make the letter T.

  The kids groan in disappointment.

  “I’ll be back. I just need a break,” he tells them.

  “Hey,” I say as he walks over to me.

  “You look beautiful.”

  Taylor let me borrow this dress. It’s tighter than I would have felt comfortable, but it shows off some of my more flattering curves, so it’s not so bad.

  “I like your shoes.” I point to his red Chucks.

  He looks down at his feet and chuckles. “Thanks. Glad to know they work with this suit.”

  Anything would look good on him.

  “Can I talk to you for a moment?” I ask.

  “Sure.” He turns and points to the tall kid in the corner. “Rocco, you are in charge until I get back.”

  Rocco gives him a salute and takes over Hunter’s role of the monster to the udder joy of the other kids.

  I take Hunter’s hand and lead him out into the hallway. There is a little nook that I pull him into so that no one can see us.

  “This seems very clandestine," he chuckles but stops when I push him up against the wall.

  “Don’t read anything into this,” I tell him.

  “Read into what?”

  I lean in and press my lips to his lips. Hunter doesn’t react for a moment, but he seems to catch up to what is happening. I lick the seam of his lips, and he opens his mouth to allow our kiss to deepen. His tongue slips in and brushes eagerly against mine. I push my body up against his and feel the distinct hard press of his dick against my lower belly. His hands move down the slope of my back, over the swell of my ass and he squeezes.

  I pull back, knowing that if I let this go any further, we might find ourselves in some stranger’s office—naked. We both have to take a moment to catch our breaths.

  “What was that for?”

  “For the brownies.” I smile and start walking back towards the event.

  “What do I get if I buy you a bakery?” he calls after me.

  I press my fingers to my lips and smile.

  5

  HUNTER

  Don’t read anything into this.

  That’s all she said
before leaving me last night without another word and a raging hard-on that took ten minutes and a lot of unsexy thoughts to get it under control.

  That was two days ago.

  I’m all padded up and in the locker room with the other guys waiting for Coach to come in and give his pregame speech. It's the first game of the season, and it's my first time starting. I should be focused on what’s ahead of me, but I can’t stop thinking about how Brownie’s lips tasted like cherry lip gloss and champagne.

  My phone buzzes in my bag with a text, I’m tempted to ignore it, but I need any form of distraction. It’s a number I don’t recognize.

  UNKNOWN NUMBER: You aren’t the only one who can get information from Doretha.

  Brownie.

  I plug in her name as the new contact, and another text pops up before I can respond.

  BROWNIE: If you when tonight, I'll invite you to my place for some post-game lasagna.

  BROWNIE: It’s my Nonna’s recipe, so you won’t want to miss it.

  ME: I’ve never been more motivated to win a game in my life.

  She responds with a blowing kiss emoji, and the biggest smile spreads across my face. Caldwell and Ramirez don’t miss it and pounce.

  “This girl has your head all twisted,” Caldwell says.

  “Maybe it’s a good thing.” Ramirez shrugs. “Then maybe it will help him not to think about the pressure for tonight’s game.”

  Caldwell elbows him in the ribs.

  “What? What did I say?”

  They are both right. Brownie does have my head twisted, but I wouldn’t change it for a moment. She’s the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about at night. Is it possible to already be falling in love with her after only kissing once?

  As much as I want to ponder that question, Coach walks in, and it's time to put my game face on. Tonight could be the start of something for me in my career.

  Jace’s behavior in the press has been pretty bad since the call to suspend him for the first eight games was made. He hasn't owned up to his mistake, and the team had to step in when he got drunk and got in a fistfight at some club. He's a free agent next year, and a few of the players have talked about how the manager is considering letting him go. If I can prove myself, they might keep me on.