Dare To Love Series: Dare Me Again (Kindle Worlds Novella) (2 page)

“No shit. The two of you have been friends for five years and you’ve never dated. You’ve never even slipped up and had a one-night stand. Plus she’s against marriage on principle? Time to call on St. Jude, patron saint of lost causes.”

“We did slip up once.” He regretted saying it the moment the words left his lips.

“Really?” Daley paused, spatula in mid-air, on the way to flipping a burger. “You never said anything.”

“She didn’t want anyone to know.”

“How was she in the sack?” Daley waggled his eyebrows.

“We didn’t get that far.”

“That’s sad.” Daley turned back to his burgers. “That is a sad, sad story, my friend.”

“It still meant something, no matter what she likes to pretend.” It had been Valentine’s Day three years ago. He and Carolina had met her friend Winnie and Winnie’s new boyfriend, Evan, at a trendy new nightclub for drinks and dancing. Winnie had been a single mom at the time and for once her parents had agreed to keep her baby all night. She had been determined to make the most of her first child-free night in two years, and she and Carolina had matched each other drink for drink, until both women had lost their inhibitions and most of their common sense. Late in the evening, he and Carolina had stumbled across Evan and Winnie making out in a corner of the club. Carolina had turned to him. “They have the right idea.” And before he knew it, she had reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him square on the mouth.

Connor had needed no more encouragement. He’d kissed her back with all the passion he’d stored up over the years, nearly crushing her to him in his need to be close to her. She’d resisted him so long he’d nearly given up. Now he thought she’d finally decided to trust him.

He was wrong. Even drunk, Carolina maintained her boundaries. After ten minutes she curtailed their make-out session with the excuse she needed a trip to the ladies’ room. When she returned she acted as if it had never happened.

“It means she’s not into you.”

“You’re wrong.” Connor wouldn’t accept that answer. He wasn’t a monk. He’d dated plenty of women in the last five years, but none of them could hold a candle to Carolina. He wasn’t ready to believe she was out of reach for good.

“Then up your game. Stop waiting around like a little boy for her to hand you a treat, and show her you’re a man. Look at you. Jeans, T-shirt, bottle of beer. What woman wants that? Put on a suit, pick her up in a car worth looking twice at, take her to a restaurant you have to know someone to get into and show her what you’re made of.”

“I don’t know. Carolina hangs out with those kind of guys all the time—”

“Which makes you look like double the schmuck. Come on, Connor. Pull out your A game.”

Maybe Daley was right. Maybe he’d been too casual with Carolina all this time. He thought she’d appreciate his practicality and his down-to-earth attitude, but it hadn’t gotten him anywhere. Maybe he needed to be more like Ian Dare, the Thunder’s president and his long-time friend. Ian was a suave man of society. The kind Carolina could respect.

“Invite her to one of those galas she’s always going to. Be her date.”

That was a brilliant idea. He knew just the one, too. Ian’s father, Robert, had a birthday bash every year around this time. Held at the Club Meridian Ballroom, it was a posh event that attracted the glitterati of the football world and more. Carolina would already have received her invitation; she went every year. He begged off when he could. Not this time. He’d dress up to the nines and give Carolina a night to remember.

“You know what? You’re right.” He saluted Daley with his beer.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Daley said.

“SERIOUSLY? YOU’RE GOING to ask Connor to make you pregnant. Just like that?” Winnie Humboldt took a sip of her mock Bellini and set it down on the long teak bar of Pandemonium where Carolina had arranged to meet her after work.

“I figure the direct approach is best.”

“You always figure the direct approach is best.”

“Because it always works.” She hadn’t become a top fundraiser by being a shrinking violet.

“I don’t think it will work this time. I’m not sure it should work, anyway. Why do you want to have a child alone?”

Carolina knew why Winnie was asking. Around the same time Sam Powell dumped her, Winnie had broken the news of her pregnancy to her live-in boyfriend. Instead of popping the question like she’d assumed he would, he’d left town, never to be heard from again. Carolina was the one who’d accompanied Winnie to Lamaze classes and she’d been the one to puff alongside Winnie in the hospital and coach her through her contractions. She’d seen Carrie come into the world and held her only moments after she took her first breath. Together, she and Winnie had encouraged each other to keep going when they could barely patch together enough money for rent and food. Their almost daily phone calls and texts kept Carolina sane in a time when she thought she might lose her mind. They’d both created jobs out of thin air, Carolina as a blogger and professional fundraiser, and Winnie as a virtual assistant to rising-star artists who appreciated her ability to handle the money side of their careers.

“My situation is different than yours was. For one thing, I’m not flat broke. I own a house and a car, and I have savings, too. I won’t have to cart a baby stroller around on a bus.”

“True, but you’ll still be up around the clock when she has colic, and you’ll have to put her into daycare for fifty hours a week if you want to maintain your work schedule. What about when you have to travel for presentations and awards banquets? It’s possible to raise a baby on your own, but it’s not easy.”

“It’s better than not having a baby at all.” Carolina finished her martini and held up her glass. The bartender nodded. A minute later he brought a replacement.

“Better yet would be to pick a man who’d like to be a father.”

Winnie could afford to be smug. When Carrie was two, Evan Streeter had hired Winnie to manage his art sales, and the two had fallen head over heels in love. Evan played stay-at-home dad from eight to two while Winnie performed her virtual assistant duties, and then Winnie took over while he went into his studio to paint.

“Evan is one of a kind.” She hoped Winnie would drop it, but of course she didn’t. This was how they helped each other—and drove each other batshit crazy. They pushed and pushed until the real answers were exposed—the answers that made all the difference.

“You don’t think Connor could be a supportive husband?”

“I don’t think of Connor that way at all!”

“Bullshit. Valentine’s Day, three years ago.”

Carolina drained her martini in one gulp. “You are never, ever going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope.” Winnie took a delicate sip from her non-alcoholic drink. “You said you loved Connor. That he…how did you put it? Oh, right. He got you hot, wet and hungry.”

“I never said that.” God, that was disgusting. “I blame the Daiquiris.”

“There were a lot of Daiquiris. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.”

Carolina signalled the waiter again. “Look, I do love Connor. As a friend. He’s been there almost as long as you have and he’s funny and loyal…”

“And smokin’ hot and gorgeous and a football player and…”

“And I don’t want a husband.”

“Oh, here we go.” It was Winnie’s turn to drain her drink. “Barkeep, get me another,” she said, pretending to slur her words. “I need to be drunk if I have to listen to this again.” Carolina rolled her eyes. Winnie could drink a dozen mocktails and not get a buzz. Her friend was such a stick in the mud these days.

“I’m not going to depend on a man,” she said.

“… on a man,” Winnie echoed. “I was burned once and I’ll never trust anyone with a y chromosome again! Am I getting this right?”

“Yes, you’re getting it right,” Carolina said stiffly.

“And you’re getting it wrong. Prince Charming is right in front of you. You’ve got the glass slippers on your feet and you’re in love with him already. Get in the damn carriage and ride away with him!”

“So the clock can strike twelve and it can all disappear? No thanks.”

“You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“I’ve always known that. Now help me figure out how to convince Connor to knock me up.”

Practice, practice, practice.

How do you know when you’re ready for the big leagues? When playing is as natural as breathing…

“B
RODY, CAN YOU tell me what happened out there today? You were on fire!” Carolina elbowed her way between two half-naked football players to reach the Thunder’s wide receiver, who had just led the way to the team’s first win in three games. With her slight build, it would have been all too easy for her to get lost in the crowded post-game locker room, but Carolina had long ago learned to be assertive. Her success depended on it.

“I knew it was make-or-break time for me,” Brody said. “I knew I let my team down in the last two games and if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s letting down my team. I told myself I needed to show up today. Not just come and play the game. Not just give it a hundred percent.
Show up
, like you say in your blog.”

Carolina smiled. Now she had football stars quoting her. That was a drastic turn of events from when she started
Go Long
five years ago. The Thunder players knew she’d rake them over hot coals if they deserved it, but they also knew she’d raise them up as heroes and role models when they earned such praise.

As she wrapped up the interview, she quickly scanned the other players. She knew Brody would headline her blog this week. He’d epitomized her fifth rule for success in the game, and even quoted it, for heaven’s sake. She couldn’t ask for a better set up for her column. But there was another player she wanted to speak to—for far more personal reasons.

She spotted Connor in the corner pulling a shirt over his broad, well-muscled shoulders. Just like every time she looked him over, something low in her gut tightened and reminded her it had been far too long since she’d had any fun with a man. If she’d been the type to swoon, any number of players in this room should have bowled her over. She didn’t know what it was about Connor that did the trick. His rock-solid body—all 225 pounds of solid muscle and sculpted flesh? His killer smile that didn’t cross his face often, but knocked the breath right out of her when it did? The way he studied her when she talked, as if he wanted to pry beneath her exterior and learn each and every one of her secrets? Or the lethal combination of all these things?

Whatever it was, Carolina found it hard to breathe, let alone speak, whenever Connor came near. Considering he worked hard to get near her every week, that made her job all the more difficult. Most of the time she kept a measure of distance between herself and the players, but Connor was special. Without him she wouldn’t even have access to them. She hated to admit it, but the truth was when it came time to transform her idea for the
Go Long
blog into a reality, she’d choked. She’d never forget the way she’d felt five years ago when she’d stood outside the locker room door for the first time and found herself unable to reach out and grab its handle. She’d been so determined to succeed she’d psyched herself out.

Connor, who’d hung back on the field to talk to the coach while the rest of his teammates filed inside that day, came up behind her. He hadn’t asked who she was or why she thought she deserved locker-room access. Instead, he’d reached around her and turned the handle. “Here’s the way it works,” he’d said, and pushed it open wide. “Now you walk right on in.”

She’d done that, bracing herself for his ridicule, but he hadn’t ridiculed her. “Looking for someone in particular?”

“The player who most embodies success.” She’d thanked God her voice had come out strong and clear.

She’d expected Connor to point to Brody or possibly to puff out his own chest and suggest she interview him. Instead, he led her to a cornerback, Ryan Weaver. “Here’s your man. Did you see how he caught LeRoy June in the second quarter? Nobody runs like Ryan. Nobody weaves and dodges like him. That man can spot a path to success in a thicket of opposition.”

Carolina had quoted Connor verbatim in her column and talked about the importance of identifying goals and planning your pathways to them. She’d talked about ways women could chart their paths, from traditional business plans to new age vision boards. She’d also talked about keeping light on your feet and changing your direction when unforeseen obstacles came up. Her idea to illustrate her points with football lingo but gear her column toward women instantly caught the attention of the blogosphere and soon
Go Long
became the go-to column for up-and-coming female leaders—both on the playing field and in the boardroom.

Carolina had sent Connor a thank-you note. In return, he’d invited her to dinner. Heady with her new success she’d said yes—and then instantly regretted it. Wasn’t this exactly the scenario she always cautioned other women against? Mixing relationships and business never worked. Unfortunately, going back on your word was another no-no. She’d gone to dinner and had a terrific time, despite her intention not to, but as soon as she’d taken her last bite of filet mignon, she’d set down her fork and told Connor she needed to leave, as she had another engagement.

Connor had watched her with that assessing gaze of his, then flashed a smile that ignited a slow burn deep inside her. “That’s a shame,” was all he’d said and stood up to walk her to the door. She’d known even in that moment she’d probably turned down the best thing she’d ever been offered in her life.

She’d stood her ground, though, and declined all further overtures, although they’d become fast friends over the years. When Connor’s attention turned elsewhere she told herself it was for the best.

That was a lie. Each time she spotted Connor with a new woman after a game or at an event, the blow to her heart was just as hard as the first time. Somehow she’d never found an appropriate man to replace Connor with either, someone who didn’t run in the same circles she did. She supposed that was the problem; no one running in different circles would get the chance to meet her, since all she did was work.