Free Maeve's Symphony by Marianne Evans Page B

directing his attention to a spot near the lip of the patio. “Not from here. From back there. The good ol’ twenty yard line.”
    The playful light in her eyes left him wanting to show off and win her admiration. Hey, he was only human. Injury or not, a twenty yard pass versus a stationary tire swing would be a cakewalk.
    “Remember, guys, it’s all about focus. Right, Josh?” Her gaze remained trained on him; attraction sparked and charged. Warmth chased away any sense of chill from the air around them. Josh’s throat went dry, his mind clouded by a swirl of desire as she turned away and a breeze carried her floral scent his way.
    Focus? Now? Yeah, sure.
    “C’mon, Josh! You’ll be awesome! I wanna see you launch it!” Nick bounced from foot to foot, pumping his fists.
    “Fair enough.” Josh moved to the spot Maeve indicated, dropping a knee pad on the cold, crispy grass at his feet. From there, he knelt, and eyed the dangling tire. Maeve inched the hem of her skirt upward just far enough so she could kneel next to him without spoiling the fabric. Josh shot her a look, catching on to her plan. So, she intended to keep an eye on him, watch right over his shoulder in an attempt to distract.
    Like he hadn’t dealt with that scenario before—and from far more intimidating sources.
    Following a blink, he slipped into QB mode, directing his aim. Intensity and determination carried him into a moment of heightened focus that turned a seemingly miniscule opening into a canyon.
    He drew back his arm and…
    Maeve edged close, blew whisper soft into his ear just as Josh released the ball.
    The pigskin ricocheted off the right edge of the tire, sending it swaying. The kids groaned, Josh turned in shock and came upon a smoky gaze that reflected none of Maeve’s earlier shyness.
    “Well done, Andrews. Well done.” Following that whispered decree, she delivered a long, slow wink.
    Josh stared, enchanted and haunted by a bone-melting ache. He slid deeper under her spell. The kids scampered after the ball then returned it to Josh’s grip. This time he barely glanced at the dangling, rubber target before sending the football flying. This time it zipped straight through the center of the opening.
    Laughing, Maeve stood. But before she left, she gave his cheek a quick caress. Josh watched after her, senses on high alert as she walked inside and closed the sliding glass doors.
    He needed to cool off and recover, so he stayed outside with Doug and the kids who started to run dash patterns along the side fence. Josh found he could pass like an MVP quarterback now that he wasn’t gripped by Maeve’s presence and a desire so acute it caused his gut to coil tight.
    Fortunately, Doug stepped into the void, unaffected by atmospheric undercurrents. “You’ve always been such a natural. Man. No one can even touch you, Josh. You’re amazing.”
    “I’ve had a lot of really great coaches who helped me along.”
    “True—but what’s the old saying? You can’t put in what God left out. Leadership, mental finesse, and an arm like a rocket are your gifts. I like that you haven’t fallen into the trap of overindulgence and arrogance. You’re the same old Josh you’ve always been. I think that’s cool.”
    “Hey, don’t go all grandiose. All I expected to do at UCLA was earn a degree and win a few football games. Sure, I dreamed of pro ball, and I figured I might get lucky enough to play a little, but this is insane. This is beyond anything I ever dreamed of.”
    Doug sent the ball into a spiral. Josh snagged it, took off at a trot and shot it back to his friend. “You’ve got the skills. It was meant to be.”
    “If you get a chance, spend a couple weekends in the city while we’re there. You can stay with me, there’s plenty of room. You can help me during my training sessions.”
    Doug tossed him the ball. “You serious?”
    “Absolutely.” Josh launched the ball right back, and Doug caught it with smooth, ready