Reluctantly Alpha (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 8) Read online

  “We’re running late,” Angelina said in a rush.

  “This will only take a second,” Mrs. Tellier said as she grabbed Connor by the arm and dragged him several feet away. In a low voice, she said, “Pretend I’m gushing about how much I like you.”

  Was there something in the water at Reemsly? In a loud voice, Connor said, “How nice of you to say so.”

  “Did you agree to speak to the soccer team?” she asked.

  “Flattering, but I must decline,” he answered, impressed that his response was both true and fit their improv session.

  Mrs. Tellier laughed like they were flirting and yanked on his arm so he lowered his head. “Angelina’s a single mom. Her son is being bullied by a boy on the soccer team. If you are half the man you were in Danger Doubled you’ll help stop it.”

  Angelina has a son?

  God, I hate bullies.

  He didn’t need to ask why it couldn’t be handled by the administration. He’d met their excuse for one. He straightened. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  Angelina was at his side in a flash. “Wow, look at the time. We really have to go.”

  Mrs. Tellier fanned her face. “I hope to see you again, Connor.”

  He looked from her to Angelina and back. “Never know what the future holds.”

  “Mr. Sutton. Please. They’re waiting for us,” Angelina said.

  “Coming.” He winked at Mrs. Tellier.

  She winked back.

  Angelina held the door open. As Connor walked through it, she said, “Whatever she asked you, know that she was just joking. The older she gets the more questionable her sense of humor becomes.”

  He stopped, leaned down until his face was just above hers and lied. “She said you’re single. Are you?”

  Angelina blushed, her eyes dilated and her breathing changed. Bingo, she wants me. “My personal life is none of your business, Mr. Sutton.”

  “Yet,” he said and almost whooped in victory when she swayed on her feet. “I changed my mind about speaking to the soccer team.”

  She swallowed visibly. “Thank you. I think it’ll be beneficial for them.”

  “I’ll make sure it is.”

  They stood there for a long moment, simply looking into each other’s eyes. The attraction he’d felt for her earlier was back—full force. Part of him wanted to crack a smile, confess that her entire impression of him was wrong and suggest they start over. Another part of him, the same appendage that had been sure Mary Ellen’s father wouldn’t actually shoot him . . . was certain he should wait until she knew him better before she . . . well, knew him better.

  “Okay, so let’s do this.” Her voice was deliciously breathless.

  “Yes, let’s,” he echoed in a low growl women had told him melted their defenses.

  She gave him another long look, then turned to lead the way through the building.

  As they walked, Bradford said, “I believe I have underestimated you, Connor.”

  “I’m used to it,” Connor said with a smile that he wiped from his face when Angelina opened a door that led to a stage.

  “You got this?” Bradford asked.

  “This one yes,” Connor said. “I may need a little help with the soccer team.”

  He walked past Angelina and fell into the role he’d played over the last year. Claire would have been impressed with his pacing, the naturalness of his movements, the way he used the stage but also connected with the audience.

  He spoke about the importance of learning the craft, the dedication required as far as memorizing scripts, and the long hours during production. He delivered every appropriate joke effortlessly. He paused after each motivational comment to ensure it was delivered with impact. When he wrapped up the talk, the students were applauding enthusiastically.

  The drama teacher came over and gave him a grateful hug that became awkwardly difficult to extricate himself from, but Angelina had thankfully intervened. Always a gentleman, he complimented the teacher on her class and left her smiling and gushing about how much pleasure he’d brought the drama department.

  Angelina was still speaking to that teacher when Bradford said, “A seventh sense isn’t required to see that women get stupid around you.”

  Connor’s gaze went to Angelina, and he sighed. “They don’t stay, though. It never really bothered me before. I can make her want me, but you’re right, she’s out of my league. She has a son too. That’s a big responsibility. And some asshole on the soccer team is messing with him. That’s why she wants me to speak to them. Don’t let me screw that up. We don’t leave until we know her kid is safe. That’s the stuff that matters.”

  “You mean that.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “This isn’t all about fucking her?”

  “Dude, how hard do you have to try to get someone to have sex with you? I just have to stop saying no.”

  Angelina hadn’t expected to be impressed, but Connor Sutton had a stage presence that was undeniable. He might only have one movie under his belt, but she could see a long career for him. Reemsly students were notoriously difficult to impress, yet all those who’d packed into the theater to listen to him seemed to fall under his spell.

  After peeling Miss Kleplin off Connor, it was no easy feat to convince the single teacher that her place was with her students rather than in his arms. Not that Angelina could blame her. All he’d done was flirt a little and Angelina was finding it difficult to breathe normally around him.

  He was deep in conversation with his bodyguard as she approached. She took advantage of the opportunity to soak in the perfection of him in his suit while remembering what he looked like beneath it. Along with almost every other woman with a functioning set of eyes, she’d watched Danger Doubled more than once simply to see him answer the door in just a towel. The heroine had made a huge production about having him put on clothing, but every single one of Angelina’s friends thought she was crazy. And when he dropped the towel and walked away bare-assed? Who hadn’t watched that scene a thousand times?

  That woman was a fool.

  I guess it would have been a short movie if he’d opened the door and she’d said, “Yep, let’s do this.”

  Angelina blushed as she’d remembered saying those very words to Connor. Not in that context. Definitely not with that intention, but she had to admit when he’d looked deeply into her eyes “Yes” was a word that would have come easily to her.

  Sex. No wonder commercials used it to sell everything.

  Angelina wasn’t a prude, but her early pregnancy had made her cautious when it came to men. She’d dated since having Whitney—even had sex a few times. The men she’d been with were very nice and had understood that her priority was her son. None had been in her life long enough to meet him.

  Nor had they made her feel all wound up the way Connor did. He was exciting, irritating, arrogant, sexy on a fantasy level. She told herself he was the opposite of her type, but there was no denying that her body had a very different opinion.

  She found it easy to stand there looking up at him mindlessly, simply returning his smile, savoring the heat in his gaze. He probably looked at every woman in that very manner. Likely practiced that charm in front of a mirror for hours.

  “Are they ready for me?” He had the most adorable crooked smile.

  “Who?” she asked.

  “The soccer team.”

  Bradford’s audible groan pulled Angelina back to reality—the one where her son needed her and nothing mattered more than that. “They’re in different classes, but I’ll call them to assemble in the gym.”

  “Here is fine,” he said, referencing the grassy area with picnic-style tables. “Let’s keep it casual.”

  I’m sure he says that a lot. “Of course. I’ll gather them up and be right back. Can I get you anything? A bottle of water? Anything?”

  “All set,” he assured her.

  “Okay, so plan to start in about fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll
be here.” His smile promised that and so much more.

  Angelina spun on her heel and strode back to the main building. The farther she got from him, the easier it was to focus. By the time she was in the office asking the secretary to call the soccer team for an assembly, she was able to laugh at her own strong reaction to Connor.

  After making the announcement over the intercom, the woman said, “I’m so jealous. Mrs. Tellier was in here earlier. She said Connor Sutton is even sexier in person than he is on the big screen. Is he?”

  “He’s good-looking,” Angelina agreed. She didn’t want to think about his attributes, though. She needed to remind herself about all the reasons why following him right back to his car and home was not an option. “If you’re into that type. I’m not. Someone like that is fun to watch in a movie, but can you imagine how disappointing it would be to date him? First of all, he’s not the intellectual, caring doctor he played in the movie. He’s just another highly paid actor with a huge ego who thinks . . .”

  The look of horror on the secretary’s face stopped Angelina midsentence.

  “Is he behind me?” Angelina asked in strangled voice.

  “I am.” His tone was cold as ice. “I thought I’d take you up on that bottle of water.”

  She turned slowly, with a grimace on her face, but was saved from having to say anything by the arrival of the soccer team. She wished she’d had a moment to apologize, but all warmth was gone from his expression, and she had a feeling it wouldn’t have been well received.

  Looking as flustered as Angelina felt, the secretary leaned over the counter and offered Connor a bottle of water. “This one is even chilled, Mr. Sutton.”

  “Thank you,” Connor said smoothly, bestowing a smile on her that brought a flush to the secretary’s face.

  He’s not that good-looking, Angelina thought with irritation. She asked the soccer team to head outside and meet them at the picnic tables. Happy to simply be out of class, they made their way without protest.

  This time Connor held the door open for Angelina . . . but he didn’t meet her gaze as she walked past him. She felt horrible. “Mr. Sutton—”

  “Don’t,” he said abruptly.

  Don’t what? Apologize? Lust after you?

  Make an idiot out of myself while pretending not to?

  Something had to be said. “I was out of line.”

  He shrugged. “You didn’t say anything that’s not true. I’m not the character I played in Danger Doubled.”

  Once outside there were too many students within earshot for them to continue the conversation, so Angelina fell silently into step with him. A moment later they were standing next to five tables of fourth- and fifth-grade boys.

  Bradford stood off to the side beneath the shade of a tree.

  Angelina glanced at Connor, but he was once again wearing his sunglasses, and he looked as closed off as when she’d first met him. Me and my big mouth. I’m lucky he decided to stick around. No one would have blamed him for leaving after hearing me.

  She turned back to the students. “Mr. Sutton is here by request of the drama department, but I thought you’d also like to meet him.” Most of the boys looked excited—even Keaton, and he was normally too cool to look excited about much. “Thank you, Mr. Sutton. Kids, let’s give him a warm welcome.”

  The boys clapped enthusiastically. The gratitude in her voice was sincere. What he was about to say might directly affect her son’s academic future at Reemsly. He didn’t know that, but he’d still graciously agreed to speak to a second group of children. She was disappointed with how unprofessionally she’d behaved and for what she’d said. It wasn’t his fault her brain went a little haywire around him.

  A lengthy silence followed the applause. It lasted long enough that Angelina began to wonder if he was waiting for her to say something else.

  She was about to, when he started.

  “Soccer. I can’t say I know a whole lot about it beyond that it’s not football.” His joke fell flat. He visibly tensed as he seemed to sense it as well.

  The coach joined the group, choosing to stand behind the table that was full of all of the star players. He didn’t apologize for being late nor did he look pleased to see his team gathered.

  Connor removed his mirrored glasses and pocketed them in his jacket, then scanned the group. She wanted to shake him and tell him to say something.

  He finally did. “A team is a team, though. Mr. Billings, my old coach, used to say there is no I in team unless you write the word in block letters and then you’ll find it right there in the A’s hole. Only he said it a little cruder than that.”

  A few of the boys high-fived each other.

  Bradford rubbed a hand over his eyes and the coach frowned.

  Where was the smooth speaker from the stage? This man seemed far less relaxed, and Angelina was beginning to regret asking him to do this, especially as a few teachers arrived and one began filming with her phone.

  “I could talk to you about how football taught me how to work with people. I could tell you that soccer will probably do the same for you.” Connor pocketed his hands and looked up at the sky for a moment before continuing. “I’d rather tell you a more personal story.”

  Angelina closed her eyes briefly and prayed it was one that was appropriate for the children to hear. Please. I said something stupid, but this is for Whitney. Please let it go well.

  Connor loosened his tie. “I wasn’t born this size. I remember what it was like to be small. So small I was pushed around.” He walked over and stood next to the smallest member on the soccer team who was sitting off by himself. “Looked over. Never chosen first for any team.”

  He moved to stand next to another table. “I had a late growth spurt. I was so small that when I was in third grade my little sister had to come to my recess to deal with the boy who was making it so I didn’t want to go to school anymore. I’ll repeat that part in case you didn’t hear me. My little sister, a first grader at the time, came to my recess and faced down a boy who’d made third grade a living hell for me.”

  Some of the boys laughed. Some remained politely quiet.

  Keaton made a joke to the other boys at his table who laughed along with him. The coach didn’t discourage them.

  Again, Connor took a moment before speaking. He walked between the tables until he came to where Keaton was seated. “Now, my brother Dylan likes to razz me by asking how that kid could have been all that bad if he could be taken down by our little sister. That’s the thing about bullies, though. They aren’t bigger, faster, smarter, braver. They’re just mean enough to make people afraid of them.”

  He looked right at Keaton until the boy looked away. Only then, did Connor turn his attention to the other children. “I’ve never asked myself why my sister was able to scare Keith Bacon into leaving me alone. Viviana is one tough cookie. But I have wondered many times why my older brother didn’t step in. His growth spurt had already hit. He towered over us and wasn’t afraid of anyone. I only asked him once, and it didn’t go well. I couldn’t understand his anger. Then I realized it was because he felt bad he hadn’t stepped in. My brother loves me.”

  Another round of laughter erupted from the group.

  This time, Connor arched an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you all too cool to say the word love? You’ll outgrow that. If you still have your mom, you’d better hug her tonight and tell her that. I lost mine a long time ago, and I still miss her every day.”

  Angelina gasped in the strained silence that followed. His gaze met hers briefly, and she glimpsed a sadness that shook her. Have I completely misjudged him?

  He turned his attention back to the students. “Why do you think my brother wasn’t the one to help me? He’s not a bad person, but he did nothing. That happens more than you’d think. Good people see something they know is wrong, and they don’t step in to stop it. Ever wonder why?”

  No one spoke at first.

  From the sidelines, Bradford said, “
They’re afraid the bully will come for them next.”

  “Maybe,” Connor said. “But I don’t think Dylan was afraid.”

  As the talk connected with how she felt about Mr. Svete, Angelina found herself speaking her truth. “Being the first voice is scary.”

  Connor’s attention riveted back to her and she regretted her outburst. He was supposed to leave Reemsly so impressed with the school that he encouraged the Barringtons to enroll their children. He’s not supposed to see issues that need fixing. What am I doing?

  Andy Monroe, one of the larger boys who had struggled with his weight the year before said, “Maybe they don’t care because no one helped them when they were picked on.”

  Another silence.

  Connor moved to stand next to Andy. “Now that is one I understand, but let me pass on to you a little something I learned from my father. He gave me a lot of advice I didn’t take, but this one bit stuck with me. He said, ‘Don’t let the worst person you know be the one who influences you the most.’ I didn’t know what that meant when he first said it. I get it now. In your life, you will meet countless amazing people, but almost everywhere you go there will also be one wing-dinger of a jerk. Sometimes more than one. The one you become the most like depends on which one you spend more time thinking about. Ever hear the tale of two wolves?”

  Andy shook his head.

  Connor sat down next to him. “I just read about it. Some people say it’s a Cherokee legend. Honestly, everyone wants to claim the genius of it. Essentially, there are two forces inside of you that are constantly battling. One is negative and angry. That’s the voice in your head that remembers every awful thing people have said or done to you. The other is positive and hopeful. That’s the voice that believes people are essentially good and worth defending even if they weren’t brave enough to defend you. Which wolf wins? The one you feed.”

  Rising to his feet, Connor looked from one table to the next. “Back to Keith Bacon. What do you think happened to him after my sister woke him up to how he was behaving?”

  Timmy Edwards raised his hand. “He switched schools.”

  Connor shook his head. “I’m from a small town. We only have one school. Our graduating class had fifty people in it. His parents were dirt poor. They weren’t going anywhere. No, we became friends.”