A Gleam In His Eye. Terry Essig
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your head to breathe every third stroke. That a way! You’re going to be awesome swimmers, I can already tell.”
Hunter swelled with newly acquired parental pride. Of course they’d be awesome. Why just look at them, they were like little fish out there, obviously in their element. His eyes narrowed in contemplation. Just exactly what kind of credentials did this young swim coach have? She obviously could recognize pure talent when she saw it, but beyond that? Karen and Robby should have the best, after all. Just look how quickly they caught on—see how they hung on to that stick? Neither one had dropped it yet. Well, anyone that coordinated could very easily have Olympic potential.
Johanna handed out stopwatches at the end of the set and walked the youngsters through taking their own pulse. She doubted any of them were even close to getting the correct rate, but eventually it would click in and they’d be able to do it. And it made them feel like big shots, keeping their interest level high. She didn’t want any eight-year-old burn-outs, which was why she tried to vary the practices and keep everything low-key and nonthreatening. This practice, however, had been uncomfortable for her. She’d never really quite found her groove. There’d been two new kids, cute but without a whole heck of a lot of natural athletic ability. Johanna certainly recognized that not everyone would go to the Olympics or even swim collegially, and in general, she disliked that elitist attitude so many sport enthusiasts took—her student Marcus and his parents a case in point. You didn’t have to have Olympic potential to benefit from and enjoy a good, wholesome sport. Exercise was good for everyone, after all. And with a lot of work those two new little water sprites might be good enough to at least swim competitively during high school, maybe even earn a letter.
No, the kids weren’t the problem.
It was the dad.
He’d stared at her almost the whole time until she’d wanted to stop and make sure she didn’t have her shorts on inside out or backward. Heck, he was still staring at her. She’d been doing this for a million years and he had her feeling self-conscious. She never felt self-conscious. Well, at least not much anymore. Johanna did not appreciate the fact that this man she didn’t even know could make her feel that way now.
Johanna blew her whistle. “Okay, my little munchkins, that’s it for tonight. I need all my stopwatches back in my box, the kickboards and pull buoys back in their bins, and I need everybody to take all their stuff home with them. Next pair of goggles I pick up off the deck are mine. I could use a nice new pair. Anybody who leaves their swimsuit in the locker room loses it. I’m wearing it next time.”
That got a good laugh.
“Coach Jo, you couldn’t wear our swimsuits. They’re too little.”
“Oh, yeah? Maybe I’ll put one on each leg and one on each arm, ever think of that? And I’d have enough to do it, too, if last practice was any indication. If I wanted to be a maid I’d have gone to maid school. Make sure you’ve got everything before you leave. No more upset parental phone calls, hear me?”
They all nodded agreement between smiles and giggles at the mental image of their coach piecing together all their suits to create one of her own.
“It’d never work,” one whispered.
“Yeah, it’d fall right apart to pieces.”
“I dunno. They’re real stretchy.”
“She could use lots and lots of safety pins. My mom’s got a whole big box. She says they’re just as good as sewing.”
Johanna shook her head. “You’re all hopeless. Okay, guys, scram. See you tomorrow.”
At least now the man would leave. Most of the parents congregated out in front of the locker room and chatted while waiting for their swimmers to shower and dress.
Hunter decided not to exit with the rest of the herd of parents who’d come to watch the practice. He wanted to talk to the coach, but he wasn’t quite sure how to approach her. Robby and Karen had not come to blows, verbal or otherwise, with each other. That could only mean they’d been engrossed in what they’d been doing and had had a good time.
This was good.
It was better than good. It was wonderful, unexpected, marvelous. This bit of manna from heaven was courtesy of Johanna, unorthodox though she may be. She had entertained and worn out those two. Any sleep he got tonight was due to this wonderful woman. He owed her. It was only right that he should repay her with maybe a drink or even a meal out, right? It certainly wouldn’t be any strain to go out with her. Hunter would take her someplace decent and see to it she had a good time. He could do that. He was cool. At least he had been until his entire world had caved in. Maybe he’d pick her brain a bit and—see. Karen and Robby took forever in the morning to dress. This would probably be no different. He had time. He could talk to her now.
Oh, God, he wasn’t leaving. Why didn’t he leave? Johanna unbuttoned her shirt and stepped out of her shorts.
Hunter, who’d been about to rise for the umpteen millionth time, froze. Good Lord, she was taking her clothes off. Right there on deck, she was taking them off. What was the woman thinking of? There were young children around. Hell, he was around, and Hunter wasn’t sure his heart was up to the havoc Johanna Durbin’s disrobing was causing his system.
Hunter was both relieved and disappointed when he realized Johanna wore a racing suit under her apparel.
And he’d thought she’d been a looker before, with her petite stature, blond curls and large, soulful eyes.
Competitive swimsuits were notoriously unflattering. They mashed a woman’s breasts flat and hugged the body, unerringly delineating every flaw in a mean-spirited, merciless, unforgiving display. Well, if this was Johanna’s body displayed at its worst, he didn’t even need to see her best. The body her suit outlined was flawless. Really. The woman didn’t have any flab, at least none Hunter could detect. No indeed, Johanna Durbin’s body needed no mercy or forgiveness.
She’d just risen above looker in his estimation and had levitated several degrees to stunner.
Hunter’s mouth actually began to water. How ridiculous. Surely at his age he was beyond all that. He was too urbane, too with it for such an elementary response to a female.
Still, he had to swallow.
Hunter shook his head to clear it. “Get a grip,” he ordered himself. He rose, determined to go and talk to the woman. “Damn the physiological responses,” he mumbled. “Full speed ahead.”
“Oh, God, he’s coming over here,” Johanna whispered. A new and decidedly odd feeling uncurled in the pit of her stomach. This was a dangerous man. Something deep inside of her recognized that fact. Johanna wanted nothing to do with him. He’d introduced himself earlier, but Johanna had evidently blocked his name out, for she couldn’t come up with it right then. It didn’t matter. For her, his name was spelled Trouble. Married, divorced, whatever, he had kids and she was within a few weeks of being done with all responsibility to that particular breed. Footloose and fancy-free. That was going to be her.
Johanna quickly swung around, pretending she hadn’t noticed his approach. Quickly, she stuffed her blond tresses up under her cap and pulled a pair of goggles into place. She dived off the edge.
Hunter stopped and watched her lithe form eat up the water. It was obvious Robby and Karen’s new coach had swum competitively. He didn’t know all that much about swimming, but he knew grace when he saw it. Johanna displayed an economy of form that was beautiful to watch. There were no wasted motions, no twisting, no struggling. She had executed what certainly looked like a beautiful flip turn at the far end of the pool and returned to her starting point in what he was sure was less than half a minute. Johanna flipped again and steamed away.
“Where’s the fire?” Hunter asked her wake.
“Uncle Hunter, what’re you doin’ still here? Everybody else is out in front. Me and Robby was looking and looking for you.”
Hunter reached down and rested a hand