Touchdown for Love

  Touchdown

  for Love

  A Clean BWWM Interracial Romance Book 2

  By: Sarah Smith

  Copyrighted material

  Copyright 2015 by Sarah Smith

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental.

  About the Author

  Sarah Smith is an educator for two decades. She maintains a teacher’s blog and spends her free time reading romance novels.

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  Smashwords Edition 2016

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Recommended readings

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lindsay stared in the mirror at her hair, wondering why she even bothered. Her blonde curls would not be tamed in the humid air of Florida. She had dried her hair, using the roll brush like her hair stylist had taught her. When she did it, and used the straightener after, Lindsay’s hair was as smooth and straight as if she’d been born with it. When Lindsay tried to do it herself, she looked like the static electricity queen, hairs standing in all directions, even if they were straight. She huffed out a breath, grabbed a hair tie, and braided her hair back. She often thought about cutting it off, but when she could tame it, she loved it.

  But at 6:15 in the morning and in a rush, she decided she didn’t care. Besides, her second graders didn’t care if her hair looked good; they only cared that she was their teacher and that she loved them. She smiled as she thought of them, her sweet students who were happy to see her each day. Sure, teaching paid nothing, especially in Florida, but she loved her job. She loved seeing their faces light up when they finally understood a concept or when she awarded them with a sticker for a good deed.

  After completing the braid, she picked up her makeup brush and began applying the minimal makeup she wore to school. She’d have to remember to put her makeup bag into the larger bag with her work clothes for tonight. The Kingfish had a game, so she’d be working her second job at the Kingfish Club, the exclusive club at the ballpark for those wealthy enough to have season tickets. She didn’t enjoy the second job as much as the first, but if she wanted to pay the bills, she had to have it. The tips were good, and most of the patrons were polite, but when the Kingfish had a weeknight game in town, she worked an eighteen-hour day.

  She left the bathroom, the only one in the small, two-bedroom apartment she shared with her best friend, Abbie. In her bedroom, she packed her bag for her second job, mentally going over her checklist to make sure she didn’t forget anything. The shoes she wore for school, professional flats with a pair of slacks and a nice blouse, would not do for a night on her feet. Thankfully, her waitressing outfit included a pair of very comfortable Nikes for the long evenings serving customers, running from the bar to the tables.

  In the living room, Lindsay found Abbie sitting quietly on the couch, coffee cup in hand, laptop open while she browsed Facebook. Lindsay was a little jealous of Abbie’s morning routine. Her job as a receptionist at a large corporation downtown did not begin until nine, so she had plenty of time to relax in the morning. If Lindsay didn’t leave by 6:45, she was late to school.

  “Morning, Abbie,” Lindsay called as she walked the three steps from the hallway and into the kitchen.

  “Good morning. Coffee is made,” Abbie replied.

  “You’re a lifesaver, you know that?” Lindsay said.

  Abbie usually made the coffee in the morning because she had more time, but Lindsay would make it if Abbie didn’t. The two of them had been taking care of each other since they were roommates in college. While Lindsay had stayed up north for the first few years of adulthood, Abbie had moved to Florida immediately after college and loved it. Lindsay had joined her in Miami just a few months ago.

  Lindsay walked into the living room and dropped onto the overstuffed chair beside the couch, putting her bag next to her. Abbie glanced at her, then the bag. “Working tonight?”

  “Yep. The Kingfish are playing the Lions tonight. Should be a good game,” Lindsay said as she sat down for a few minutes to enjoy her coffee.

  “You know I don’t keep up with sports,” Abbie reminded her, gesturing with her coffee mug. “What time do you think you’ll be home?”

  “Game starts at 6:15, should be over by ten-ish. Sometime after that, I guess,” Lindsay sighed, mourning the loss of sleep before she even lost it. “I’m just thankful baseball season started, and they were looking for a new waitress.”

  “And lucky you look the way you do, or they wouldn’t have hired you,” Abbie stated blatantly.

  Lindsay didn’t like to admit that she’d gotten the job because she had curves men practically drooled over. Her long black hair and shockingly green eyes didn’t hurt; she was, as Abbie called her, exotic. Lindsay had come to terms with the fact that her tips were often high because of the way she looked, sometimes more so than they were for how well she waited tables.

  “Maybe you should rethink teaching down here,” Abbie mused. She’d closed her laptop to focus on their conversation, even though they’d had this same conversation more than a few times. Lindsay shrugged for an answer, and Abbie continued. “Seriously, you could make a lot more money doing what I do, and you wouldn’t have to work an extra job.”

  “I know, I know, but I really do like teaching. I’ve thought about going back and getting my principal’s certification, but I don’t think I’d like that at all. Teaching is so. . .” she let her voice trail off as she searched for the word.

  “Low paying? Without benefits?” Abbie supplied, snickering.

  Lindsay looked at her balefully. “I was going to say fulfilling. And what do you mean without benefits? I have a week off at Thanksgiving, two weeks at Christmas, and all summer off!”

  “With no money to go do anything,” Abbie reminded her.

  Lindsay sighed loudly. “True. But at least I’m off. And I really do love my kids.”

  “Yeah, you would,” Abbie said. When Lindsay’s brow furrowed, she clarified, “That sounded ugly, but you know I didn’t mean it that way. I meant, you love everybody. You can’t help yourself.”

  Lindsay narrowed her eyes and playfully commented, “Unlike the cold-hearted ice queen who sits before me?”

  “Exactly!” Abbie exclaimed, gesturing a little too vigorously with her coffee cup and sloshing some of the hot liquid on her leg. As she wiped it, she continued. “I go to work, do my job politely, and come home.”

  “Sounds like a dream,” Lindsay murmured as she thought of the papers she wouldn’t get graded sitting on her desk. They would just have to wait until the next day. “Besides, the only thing that bugs me about the Kingfish Club job is how often I get hit on.”

  Abbie laughed. “At least you’re getting hit on!”

  “Yeah, by old rich men who want to cheat on their wives!”

  “Is it really that bad?” Abbie asked skeptically.

  “We have a few serious perverts who try to touch, but I think that’s anywhere you go.”

  “Come on. I bet there’s a few good looking dudes in there to f
lirt with.”

  Lindsay shook her hand in a kind of gesture. “There are a few, but it doesn’t matter. We’re not allowed to date them anyway.”

  “Are you kidding? Gosh, I would think that’d be a perk of the job,” Abbie said teasingly.

  “I don’t think so,” Lindsay said, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

  “What about that one you told me about? The good-looking one who works in finance or something,” Abbie reminded her.

  “Oh yeah.” Lindsay laughed a little and shook her head. “He’s hot! And he has asked me out, but I can’t break the rules, or I’ll lose my job. And those perverts tip really well!”

  Abbie laughed as Lindsay rose and grabbed her bags, the one with clothes for the Kingfish Club and the one she carried with her for school work. She grabbed a to-go coffee and a bagel she’d put in the toaster earlier and headed out the door. “See you tonight.”

  “Have a good day, dear,” Abbie called after her as she opened her laptop for another twenty minutes of relaxing coffee time.

  Lindsay rolled her eyes at Abbie, who usually was a little silly. She admired her for her outgoing personality and often wished she could be the same. Waitressing had actually helped her get over her shyness; speaking to people regularly she didn’t know and being personable had encouraged her to be more outgoing. Abbie had even commented on the fact that she seemed so much less shy than when they’d been in college, going so far as to tell her she should have waitressed through school.

  She pulled out of the apartment garage, dreading the morning traffic before she even reached it. The residential streets were filled with cars every morning, so even though she left by 6:45, she didn’t get to school until 7:20. And the school was only nine miles from the apartment; on Saturdays when she had to go in for a bit, she could get there in less than fifteen minutes.

  This is not what I thought my life would be like, she mused as she sipped her coffee, her foot hovering over the brake instead of the accelerator. She’d moved here with sandy beaches and fruity drinks in her mind, lots of sun and fun as soon as school let out each day. But she didn’t have time or money for leisurely drinks on the beach. If the Kingfish weren’t playing, sometimes she’d sign up to work special events held at the club. At least three nights a week and sometimes on both Saturday and Sunday, she worked at the club but still struggled to make ends meet. Oh well, she thought. You’re young and must pay your dues.

  A horn blared behind her. She looked in the rearview mirror at the man behind his wheel flipping her off. She rolled her eyes, accelerated to ten miles per hour, and moved the five feet that had opened between her and the car in front of her. She smiled and waved at the man as if he’d done her a favor and watched as he cursed, his lips clearly enunciating the words. She waved again to make him even madder just as traffic lightened, and she was able to leave him behind.

  Well, at least I’m not a rude jerk, she thought with a shake of her head as she slowed once again to match the rhythm of traffic.

  ***

  That afternoon at 4:15, Lindsay climbed into her car, exhausted. What a day! she thought as she tossed her school bag into the passenger seat and turned the car on. The bright spot of her day, she thought ironically, was that she’d been able to park under the trees in the school parking lot, so her car wasn’t a sauna when she climbed into it. The cool air conditioner rid the car of the rest of the heat, and she slowly backed out of her parking spot to head to Kingfish Stadium.

  As she pulled out of the parking lot, her phone began ringing. She reached into the front pocket of her bag so she could answer it. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hi, sweetheart! I haven’t caught you at school, have I?”

  “No, I’m just leaving. Heading to the stadium,” Lindsay told her, cradling the phone between ear and shoulder.

  “Are you driving and talking? That’s not very safe,” her mother admonished.

  Lindsay rolled her eyes. “I’ll switch it to speaker.” She pulled the phone away and hit the speaker button, then continued the conversation. “So, what’s up?”

  “Just calling to check in on you. How was school today?”

  Lindsay sighed. “Well, to begin the day we had an assembly that, in my opinion, was a waste of time. I had to skip social studies today!”

  “Such is life when you’re a teacher.” Her mother had been an elementary school teacher for twenty-five years and was the reason Lindsay had chosen the profession.

  “You’re so right. And that’s not all. One of my students threw up all over his desk after lunch, almost launching a domino effect of vomiting throughout the room. Mom, we had to hold class for the rest of the day in the library because my room smelled so bad.”

  “Oh wow. I had a few of those days in my time. Never fun,” her mother said. “Once I had a little girl puke, and three more followed. I thought I was in The Exorcist.”

  They shared a laugh. Lindsay wondered out loud, “I bet high school teachers don’t have to deal with this stuff.”

  Her mother laughed again. “Good Lord, I hope not. Hopefully by that point those teenagers can make it to the bathroom.”

  “Of course they do. It would be way too embarrassing for a teenager to throw up in class.”

  “So when are you out again?”

  “We just had spring break.” And Lindsay had spent that week at home or walking on the beach without a fruity drink because she couldn’t afford them. But she’d loved the sound of the waves and the beauty around her. “I won’t have a break until summer gets here. You know that.”

  Her mother chuckled. “Yes, yes, but retirement has befuddled my brain.”

  “Oh please. If that brain were any sharper you’d be a deadly weapon,” Lindsay teased.

  “Haha. Anyway, your father and I were wondering if you’d be able to make it up soon. We miss you,” her mother said, the sweet voice inciting guilt in Lindsay’s heart.

  “Oh, well, Mom, I’ll be honest. I just can’t afford a plane ticket right now,” Lindsay told her. “The cost of living is much higher here than I expected, but I’m working and saving so I can get where I need to be.”

  “Honey, we’re so proud of you.” There was a moment of silence. “I know what you’re going to say, but your dad and I will gladly pay for your ticket up here.”

  Lindsay shook her head, a smile on her face. “Mom, no.”

  Her mother sighed heavily. “All right fine.” She sounded pouty.

  “How about you and Dad come down here? My roommate will be out of town at some point in June. You and Dad could crash in her room. We could go to the beach and I could take you to see all the sites! It would be great!”

  “That’s a great idea! We haven’t been on a trip in forever. I’ll talk to your dad about it tonight.”

  “Awesome.” Lindsay hit her blinker to turn into the parking lot of the stadium where employees parked. She had quite a hike, so while she finished her conversation with her mother, she slipped out of her dress shoes and into her Nikes. “Hey, Mom, I just pulled in to the stadium. I’ve got to get changed before the game starts.”

  “Of course, sweetheart. Have a good night, and don’t take any lip off those old men. Unless, of course, one is willing to marry you and let you be a stay-at-home mom. Then you should jump on him.”

  “Mother!” Lindsay pretended to be shocked, but her mother always said stuff like that.

  “Just trying to take care of my baby,” her mother said. “Love you.”

  “Love you. Bye.” Lindsay climbed out of the car, bag on shoulder, and started the walk to the Kingfish Club.

  CHAPTER TWO

  As she headed up the escalator to the exclusive floor that held the Kingfish Club, as well as the suites owned by rich businessmen and their companies, Lindsay suppressed a yawn. Second graders, as sweet as they were, could wear you out in an hour, let alone when you spend an entire day with them. She made the turn to walk down the hallway toward the club, hiding yet another yawn behind her hand and decided
a soda might be in her future if she couldn’t find a cup of coffee.

  I can’t believe I went to bed early last night, and I’m still this tired, she thought to herself, frowning, as she pushed open the door to the club after swiping her key card across the scanner.

  Exclusive was the correct term. The door to the club remained locked until an hour before the game. A bouncer, referred to as the host, guarded the door and only let in those he knew to be members or who had passes allowing them access. The Kingfish Club, once you were a member, offered free beverages and a buffet-style meal at no cost. To be a member cost a pretty penny, several actually, so the beverages and meal were paid for after the first twenty members paid their yearly fee. And luckily for Lindsay, the men were liberal with their tips; she often could pay a bill or two after a weekend at the club.

  She glanced at her watch. She had twenty minutes before the doors opened, so she clocked in and hurried to the changing room. Her locker was near the bathroom, so she dropped her bag there and ran to take care of the necessary bathroom break, then bustled out to change. Stacy, a woman her age, had arrived and was in the process of changing. Lindsay admired her beauty for a moment before calling out a greeting.

  “Hi, Stacy. You look beautiful today, as usual,” Lindsay commented with a smile.

  Stacy glanced up and returned the smile. “Hey girl. How was school?”

  “Same as always. Exhausting,” Lindsay said with a smile as she pulled her outfit from her bag and began changing. The outfit, while not revealing, was designed to hug her body almost indecently because she was so curvy. The black shorts were snug and short, but not so short that Lindsay felt uncomfortable, although a good deal of her muscular thighs was revealed. Grateful for her curves, which she knew added to her tip balance at the end of the night, she slipped a white tank top on, then the white tee over that. The tee was diaphanous, thus the tank top.