Authors: Tracy Solheim
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General, #Sports
What he hadn’t counted on was Carly being in her office. As he rounded the corner, he came to an abrupt stop. The object of his obsession was pacing before a picture window, the spring sunshine streaming in behind her. A pair of running shorts showed off lean, muscular legs; her T-shirt strained against firm breasts. Damn, she was cute and his body was doing crazy things just watching her. Her ponytail bobbed as she paced about, having a conversation with someone on speakerphone.
“I can’t believe you told Matt you saw condoms in C.J.’s bag.” The woman on the phone had trouble containing a laugh.
Whoa. So that’s what C.J.’s temper tantrum was about the other night.
“What was I supposed to do, Jules?” Carly plopped down in her chair, resting her sneaker-clad feet on the desk. She twirled a red rose in her fingers as she spoke. “Wouldn’t you tell your brother if your nephew had condoms in his gym bag?”
“Jeez, Carly, my nephew is ten! If he had condoms it would probably be for some locker-room prank!”
Carly laughed. Shane sat down at one of the reception desks and tried to tell himself he was looking for a pen, not eavesdropping.
“Seriously, Carly, you’re getting way too wrapped up in these people.”
“
These people
are my family, Julianne.” Carly stood and began pacing again, slapping the rose against her thigh. “And you of all people should know they are important to me. They’re all I’ve got and I like that they need me.”
There was silence on the other end of the line.
“I appreciate that you care, though, Jules.” Carly moved out his range of vision, but from the sound of it, she’d stopped her pacing.
“I just wish you wouldn’t equate personal happiness with feeling needed, that’s all,” Julianne finally answered. “And I wish you’d come to Italy with me!”
“I can’t go back to Italy, Julianne. The paparazzi are too intense. Besides, I really don’t want to have Max’s happiness thrown at me day in and day out. It still hurts too much.” The last statement came out as a whisper.
“So you’re hanging around with American football players, now?” Julianne sounded appalled. “Like one of them won’t propose to you and leave you for his Baby Mama.”
Huh?
Shane was having trouble keeping up with the conversation. Had some guy actually done that to Carly?
“Jules, I’m not hanging out with the players. I’m working for the team. For the first time in my life, I actually feel useful. I know Hank hired me as a favor to Matt, but Lisa is doing better and Hank has all but said the job is permanent if I want it,” Carly said. She moved into view again and he watched as she dropped the rose in the trash and picked up a picture frame from the credenza behind her desk. “Besides, jocks are off-limits, remember? I’m not hanging out with anyone who lives their life in the public eye. I want quiet and ordinary.”
“You want boring!”
“Hey, accountants or podiatrists aren’t always boring.” Carly’s voice was laced with humor. “Now, can we get back to the business at hand, and talk about you finding me a dress for Lisa’s black-tie fund-raiser? This is really important to her. She wants to raise enough money to start a counseling center for kids here in Baltimore by year’s end. Wouldn’t it have been nice to have a place to go when you lost your mom? A place where other kids could relate to what you were going through?”
Julianne paused before answering. “Boarding school took care of that for both of us.”
Carly released an exasperated sigh. “Julianne, are you going to find me a dress or not?”
“Yeah, sure. But I don’t know why I even bother. You won’t wear any of the ones that I think you should wear.”
“Then pick something out you know I’ll wear, not something skimpy that belongs on the cover of
Cosmo
.” She put the picture back down on the credenza a little too roughly.
Shane bumped his knee against the metal desk at the thought of her wearing one of those sexy dresses that always taunted him in the checkout lines. He was unable to stifle a grunt, and the sound alerted her to his presence. Snatching up the receiver, she quickly ended her phone conversation and came to stand in the doorway of her office. Crossing her arms beneath her breasts—a move that further tortured him—she leaned against the door frame. Shane cleared his throat and jauntily leaned on the two back legs of the desk chair.
“I was looking for a pen.” He flicked through some papers on the desk, unsuccessfully trying to keep his eyes off her very pert breasts perfectly displayed in a T-shirt proclaiming
Smart is the new skinny.
Shane tried not to think about how sexy it looked on her.
“I guess the Pen Fairy took ’em all because there aren’t any out here,” he joked, gesturing to the desks in the reception area.
Mumbling something sounding awfully close to
smart-ass
, she pushed away from the door frame. He stood and followed her into her office. Probably not a good idea on his part, seeing as how he was already in the beginning stages of arousal. Being in the close confines of her office would only make it worse.
He took his chances anyway.
Her office was warm and welcoming, adorned with pictures of her nieces and nephew. A large spider plant crawled from its container down to the floor. Soft jazz music played over her computer speakers. She rounded her desk and picked up a Montblanc pen, then turned and nearly speared him with it, he was following her so closely.
“I didn’t want to leave town without signing this.” He held up the media plan between them.
“Of course not.” She backed up a little to put some space between them. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten.”
“Nope.” His voice took on a husky timbre as he took a step forward. She moved farther back to the wall. “You didn’t rat me out to your brother-in-law the other night. Why not?”
“Oh, well . . . now I have something to hold over you. You know, when you start telling everyone how I attacked you in Cabo,” she quipped.
“Touché,” he said, a smile breaking out across his face. “Smart, pretty, and devious. Who would have thought?”
She tried to stifle a laugh, but one escaped anyway. Soft and breathy. Somehow, she’d backed herself against the wall. He stood inches in front of her. She wasn’t a psycho chic, he’d finally decided. Just a woman. A woman who he continued to be incredibly attracted to for reasons he couldn’t quite understand. If Shane was smart, he’d leave her alone. Except his brain and his body weren’t working from the same playbook.
“About that night in Cabo . . .” he started off.
“Let’s not go there.” She shook her head from side to side.
He breathed in her scent—she smelled like Florida sunshine—as he moved his body closer. “You know, Dorothy, if your friend hadn’t interrupted us, what do you think would have happened?”
She stared at him, her clear blue eyes wide as saucers, something between panic and passion beginning to build in them. Her breath was coming faster, fanning the skin at the base of his neck.
“Nothing.” The waver in her voice—almost a whisper now—betrayed the firmness of the statement.
“You sure?” he asked softly as he tossed the document and pen onto the desk behind him. “Not even just a kiss?”
He knew he shouldn’t be pursuing this. She was not only the GM’s assistant but the coach’s sister-in-law. If Coach found out, he’d probably string Shane up by his balls. But he couldn’t seem to deny his body. Not now. Not after waiting a week to finally kiss her. Something about her pushed Shane over the edge. He had to know if it had been a fluke in Mexico. Maybe they’d both had too much to drink that night. Maybe he was the one who was a bit psycho. Either way, he wasn’t leaving until he found out. He leaned his body closer, pinning her to the wall.
Again, she shook her head. The tight T-shirt showcased her aroused nipples. While her mouth was saying nothing, her body was definitely giving him the green light.
Lifting both hands from his sides, he carefully placed each one against the wall on either side of her head. Slowly, he leaned in further, his lips a breath away from her mouth. Never before had he used his body to intimidate a woman. He’d stop now if she put up any resistance, but her body was pliant against his.
Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. Definitely a green light.
“This isn’t a good idea,” she started to say.
He took advantage of her open mouth and swooped in. Sealing his lips over hers, he let his tongue plunder her luscious mouth, stroking it along hers, making her body quiver. Any resistance she might have offered disappeared within seconds as she returned his kiss with a hot, eager one of her own. The way she kissed him back surprised him, spurred him on. He angled his head to the side to deepen the kiss and she responded by gently sucking on his tongue. A slow burn began in his gut, and he knew one thing for certain: the attraction that started on a beach in Mexico was no fluke.
He also knew he might not get enough of this woman.
With a soft gasp, she leaned in to deepen the kiss. It was nearly his undoing. Reluctantly, he broke it off, lifting his lips away from hers by a fraction. Leaning his forehead against hers, he tried to catch a breath. Her lips were puffy and damp, her eyes wild with passion.
“Damn,” Shane muttered, taking his hands off the wall. Repositioning them to caress the sides of her face, he pulled her in closer so his mouth could take possession of hers again.
* * *
Carly’s brain had ceased to function. She really
should be telling him to stop, pushing him away. And she would.
In a minute
. Instead, the hands braced on his chest to do the pushing away slowly snaked up the black T-shirt that covered a finely sculpted torso before ending up wrapped around his neck. His skin was soft underneath her fingertips. She reached farther up to run her fingers through his hair, pulling his head deeper into the kiss. Their tongues were doing a passionate dance that had her stomach ready to fall out. She swayed against him as his hands reached down to cup her bottom, lifting her to sit on the credenza. He stepped between her thighs, allowing his erection to grind against her most sensitive area. The feeling was so overwhelming, she threw her head back and moaned. He took advantage of her exposed neck, nuzzling his way across her collarbone. When she wrapped her legs around him, he returned the groan before taking her mouth in a hard, demanding kiss. She nearly melted from the heat of it.
Carly had been intimate with more than a few men. But never like this. Never in her own office. On her desk. She’d never been so deeply aroused by another man—not even the passionate Italian she’d been engaged to—that she could lose control so easily. She’d definitely never been one to experience the toe-curling orgasms that she’d read about in magazines.
Until now.
She was on the verge of coming, and she was still fully dressed with just Shane’s tongue in her mouth as his hard body rubbed against her. She wanted him naked and inside of her. Now.
“Yo, Devlin. You up here?”
The sound of Donovan Carter’s voice was like ice water being dumped on her. With strength she didn’t know she possessed, she pushed Shane off her and jumped to her feet. They both struggled to catch their breath. She forced her eyes to meet his. The heat and passion she saw reflected there made her shiver. With his hair tousled, his lips swollen and red, and his erection straining his already tight jeans, it was impossible to mistake his intentions.
“Oh God,” Carly whispered. What had she almost done?
“Shane!” Donovan called again, his voice drawing nearer.
Shane continued to stare at her. Donovan was about to walk through the door. One look at Shane, and he’d know exactly what they’d been up to. Carly quickly turned to the window, her back to the door.
“In here,” Shane called out, his voice a low growl.
She said a silent prayer that he would at least sit down before Donovan arrived.
“Hey you two . . .” Donovan’s voice trailed off as he entered her office.
Neither one of them replied. Carly didn’t dare turn around, sure that her neck and her nipples still showed the effects of their encounter.
“Everything okay in here?” Donovan’s tone had an edge to it now. He was no fool. The man had been a criminal investigator. Carly felt her face redden at the thought.
“Everything’s fine.” Shane’s voice held a challenge in it. Just what she needed: two alpha males ready to duke it out over her honor.
“Ohh-kay,” Donovan said slowly. “I’ll just wait out here. We need to leave right away if you want to make that flight, Shane.”
All she could manage was a wave over her shoulder as Donovan left the office. Mentally, she braced herself for Shane to say something, do something. Instead, she heard the scratch of the pen on paper and then it being flung back on the desk. He left without saying a word.
Leaning her forehead against the glass window, she took a deep breath. She debated with herself which was more mortifying: the fact that she had almost given it all to Shane Devlin, or that they had nearly been caught by the head of Blaze security. Shane didn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. She only hoped he could keep Donovan from spreading gossip. Two things she knew for sure: Shane Devlin had the power to overwhelm all her sensibilities, and she needed to avoid being alone with him at all costs.
Five
A fat bead of sweat trickled down the back of
Shane’s neck, adding to his already soaked T-shirt as his feet pounded the pavement. Despite a light breeze, the late afternoon sun and a brisk five-mile run combined to produce a sheen of sweat all over his body.
“I swear, I’ve never seen anything like it in my life, man.” Donovan let out a little huff as he kept pace beside Shane. “She looked like a chick from one of those lip-syncing girl bands, only not so hot, you know? She stood there in this funky pink outfit—I mean nauseatingly pink—with big, bug-eye sunglasses on, and blasted poor Carly. Not that she was much of a threat. Jeez, she’s all of five and a half feet tall in her spiked heels. She looks a lot taller on TV. Dude, she even had a dog in her purse! Damn, that thing was ugly.” Donovan’s whole body shook at the thought of the dog.
Shane laughed at his friend’s antics. Apparently the arrival of Gabe Harrelson’s new bride provided quite the side show at the Blaze offices earlier in the day.
“What’s she so fired up about anyway?” Shane asked as they jogged through the neat residential neighborhood. Small brick condos lined up uniformly behind pristine, postage-stamp lawns.
“Money. Isn’t that what women are always fired up about? That and shoes,” Donovan joked as he matched Shane stride for stride.
“Last time I checked, Gabe made some pretty good cash.” Shane swerved to avoid a small sinkhole in the pavement.
“Dude, a woman like that can
never
have too much money. Their wedding alone had to cost a fortune. They held it on a beach in Kauai with nearly five hundred guests. Those people partied for
three whole days!
” Donovan checked his stride to look for oncoming cars before crossing a side street.
Shane paused to look at Donovan quizzically.
“You know this
how
?” he asked as they took off at a jog again.
“
TMZ. Access Hollywood
. Hell, they had a four-page spread in
People
. You didn’t see that?” Donovan looked at him incredulously.
“Nope.” Shane shook his head. “It’s not my preferred bathroom reading.”
Donovan gave a little snort.
“I figured you’d have a free subscription to some of those rags, as often as you’ve appeared in them,” he teased. “Anyway, Carly handled the little Paris Hilton wannabe. She even tried to make friends with the ugly dog, but the little rat was just bad to the bone. Even a diamond dog collar couldn’t make it look pretty. It was growlin’ at its own shadow.”
Shane had no problem picturing Carly reading Gabe’s wife the riot act. Her crazy blue eyes would be wild in her agitation. Her breasts all perky as she stomped around reciting the signing bonus rules chapter and verse. He was getting excited just thinking about the two women sparring. Despite a Herculean effort during the past week to banish Dorothy from his fantasies, he hadn’t been too successful.
“I missed a girl fight?” he asked reverently.
Donovan laughed. “Not quite, but
that
probably would have made
TMZ
.”
“Damn.” Shane slowed briefly to call to the Labrador retriever who’d been sidetracked from the jog when a passing scent caught his attention.
“Probably would have been a good fight, too. According to the office scuttlebutt, there’s no love lost between Carly and the little bridezilla.” Donovan bent down to massage his knee.
Shane lifted his T-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face. “How’s that?” he asked through his shirt.
“Who knows,” Donovan said as he stretched his leg. “Probably has something to do with her being jealous of Carly and Gabe. She practically accused Carly of purposely withholding his bonus because she had a thing for him.”
“Carly and Harrelson?” His pulse, already racing from his run, ratcheted up a point or two.
Donovan looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “No,” he said. “They’re just friends. Carly was recovering from a serious burnout in a relationship. Gabe is more in touch with his feminine side. In fact, I’m surprised he even married, if you get my drift. Anyway, he was more like a confidant to Carly while she got over that crazy Italian soccer player she was engaged to. Guess Gabe’s new wife is just the jealous type.”
She wasn’t the only jealous type, Shane thought. Not that he’d admit to being jealous; more like curious. The first opportunity he’d gotten after overhearing Carly’s conversation in her office, Shane had searched the Internet for details about her former fiancé. The story played out like a soap opera within the European media, specifically the tabloids. Maxim Vicente charmed “Darling Carly” while having a secret relationship—and a child—with a married woman, eventually leaving Carly a month before the wedding. Unfortunately, the paparazzi painted Carly as an unstable victim, unable to hold on to her man.
“About you and Carly . . .” Donovan’s sharp tone brought Shane out of his reverie. Neither man had broached the subject of the incident in Carly’s office the other day. Shane had hoped his friend would just let it lie, but apparently not. Donovan stood facing him, hands on hips, his interrogator’s face clearly in place.
“There is no ‘me and Carly,’” Shane answered. Trying his best to project nonchalance, he locked eyes with the former Marine, challenging him to say otherwise.
Donovan held his ground for a moment, before finally shaking his head and looking away. “Look, Shane,” Donovan said. “What you do is your business. But Carly . . . she’s been through a lot, you know? She comes across as all poised and sophisticated, but underneath, she’s still pretty tender and raw. I just wouldn’t want to see her hurt.”
Shane tried not to wince at Donovan’s words. Obviously, his friend bought into the public’s perception of him. The implication that he would somehow hurt Carly rankled. People’s opinions of him hadn’t mattered before, so why were they becoming important now? And why did the idea of Carly being hurt—by him or someone else—bother him so?
“You ready to head back to your place?” Donovan asked.
“Yeah, I probably should get this guy a drink.” Shane gestured to the large chocolate-colored dog lolling in the shade of a large tree, his pink tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth.
“A beer sounds good to me, too,” Donovan said with a grin as he jogged down a side street.
Shane lived in one of the team’s rental properties in the elite, gated community. The four-bedroom house sat on over a half an acre on a cul-de-sac at the very back of the neighborhood. He and Donovan navigated a maze of smaller row houses to get to the more exclusive area of the community.
“You’re lucky you got a place in here, man,” Donovan said as they rounded a corner. The tree-lined street was quiet in the early evening. “A few of the Blaze staff live in here and they say it’s pretty quiet. I guess you’ll be running into Carly in here, too.”
Shane stumbled, but he was able to right himself without Donovan taking too much notice.
“Carly lives
here
?” he asked, the words escaping his mouth before he could temper his reaction.
“Yeah.” Donovan looked at him sharply. “In fact, that’s her place up ahead.”
Shane looked farther down the street to where the object of his distraction stood gesturing to another man. The trunk of her Saab convertible stood open. It looked like she’d been disrupted in the act of carrying in groceries. The man was obviously offering to help haul in her bags, but Dorothy was having none of it.
“Shit!” Donovan swore, picking up his pace. Shane followed suit, his pulse beginning to shoot up again. He wasn’t sure if it was from seeing Carly again or from Donovan’s apparent concern.
* * *
The cloying smell of Joel Tompkins’s cologne first
alerted Carly to his presence behind her.
God, this guy is a pest,
she
thought to herself as she turned from the trunk of her car to see him reaching in to grab a grocery bag. It went against her nature to be openly hostile to another person, but she was beginning to think today might be an exception.
She was still reeling over her encounter with Gabe’s wife earlier.
That woman was a nutcase!
What could have possibly possessed Gabe to marry her? Okay, Carly
knew
why he had married her—for the publicity—but the little bridezilla obviously did not. Carly actually sympathized with Chloe; right up until Chloe accused her of being involved with her husband. The little scene in the lobby of the training facility had propelled Carly’s pity into annoyance. Damn Gabe for sending the tabloid princess to do his dirty work anyway. The fight for his signing bonus was going to get messy, but Carly knew she had an iron-clad contract on her side.
Escaping her office early, she’d sought solace in a Pilates class at her health club. She’d been looking forward to an evening of kicking back with a glass of wine and watching
Downton Abbey
reruns on PBS. Instead, she was staring into the hooded, dark brown eyes of Joel Tompkins.
When she’d first met him, Joel had reminded her of a puppy. Eager and affectionate. Lately, however, he was becoming more persistent and clingy. More . . . menacing. He took the plastic grocery bag from her hand.
“I’ve got it,” Carly said, pulling the bag back from him. Her gut was telling her not to give him any excuse to come inside her home.
“I insist.” He pulled back, nearly tearing the plastic bag. A nervous laugh escaped as she envisioned the grocery bag rupturing and her jumbo box of tampons flying across the lawn. The lopsided grin he offered her in return made her shiver.
Were his teeth always that big?
Crap, now she was imagining him as a wolf, not a puppy. She nearly shrieked with hysteria at the low growl that seemed to be conjured up by her thoughts. The growl caught Joel off guard as well; he loosened his grip on the grocery bag and she quickly pulled it to her chest before it ripped completely.
“Is there a problem here, Carly?”
She looked up to see Donovan Carter standing, hands on hips, next to her open car trunk. A large brown Labrador retriever was insinuating itself between her and Joel, letting out another low growl as it sat possessively on Carly’s feet. Joel looked from the dog to Donovan. A brief scowl covered Joel’s face, but he quickly hid it.
“No problem here, dude. I’m just helping the lady with her groceries.” He looked down at the dog. “Your dog’s got a bit of an attitude, though.”
“The dog’s mine.” Carly’s head whipped around to see Shane standing on her other side, his arms folded across his chest, hands tucked under his arms.
Looking more menacing than Joel ever could
. She glanced down at the panting dog now lying across her sneakered feet. The dog thumped its tail as its eyes darted from her to Shane. Joel moved to grab the grocery bag again and the dog immediately came to attention, its growl fiercer than before. Taking a step back, Joel looked at the animal as if he might kick it.
“Hack journalism must not be paying well these days, Tompkins.” Donovan stepped between Joel and the dog. “Now you’re working as a bag boy?”
“I was in the neighborhood. We’re friends, so back off, man.” Joel was becoming increasingly defensive. It didn’t help that Donovan now stood inches from his face. Carly thought she really should step in and defend Joel. He worked for the local television station, after all, and she didn’t want any bad publicity for the team.
“That right, Carly? You two friends?” Donovan asked, his eyes never leaving Joel’s face.
But Joel had become a pest. Maybe Asia was right: The only way to get rid of the guy was to be a little mean.
“No.” Her voice shook a little. “Joel, we work in the same place. We are
friendly
to one another, but that’s it. It really wouldn’t be professional for us to have any other type of relationship. I’m sorry.”
Jeez, she felt like a hypocrite. Not more than a week ago, her hands had been all over Shane Devlin, and he was one of the team’s players! And two of the three men standing there knew it. She didn’t dare turn around and look at Shane.
“You hear that, Tompkins? The lady doesn’t need any help.” Donovan backed Joel toward his car. Joel’s face briefly clouded with anger. But, as before, he quickly masked it. When he looked up, he had become the overeager puppy dog again.
“Sure. Whatever. You can’t blame a guy for trying.” He smiled at Donovan as he pulled his keys out of his pocket. “She is pretty hot,” he said with a wink as he slid into his car and started the ignition.
“Thank goodness.” Carly let out a relieved breath as she absentmindedly stroked the broad head of the dog.
Donovan turned to face her as Joel drove off, the bass of the car’s stereo thumping down the street.
“I don’t trust that guy. I’m going to jog out to the guard house and make sure he leaves. I also want to know how he got in here.” Donovan looked past Carly to speak to Shane. “I’ll be back in five.”
As he jogged off, Carly tried not to think about being left alone with Shane. He’d been remarkably quiet during the exchange with Joel. It didn’t seem to be in his personality to resist an opportunity to strut his testosterone. She wondered if he was saving it up for her.
Stop thinking like that!
In the week since their encounter in her office, she had done some serious introspection. This
thing
between the two of them couldn’t continue. Shane Devlin wasn’t her type. Sure, he was dark, brooding, and sexy as hell, but he wasn’t the type to stick around. And Carly had had a lifetime of men who didn’t stick around. She wanted more than that. She wanted happily ever after, the kind that was quiet and out of the public eye. Shane Devlin was
not
happily-ever-after material. She’d just gently but firmly let down Joel Tompkins—and he hadn’t gone postal on her. Now it was time to set things straight with the team’s new quarterback.
She looked up from her musing, still absently stroking the dog’s head, only to find the object of her thoughts had silently lifted the remaining grocery bags from her trunk and was striding toward the front door of her row house. She let out a frustrated huff. Just moments ago, her instincts were telling her not to let Joel Tompkins in her house. Those same instincts were remarkably quiet right now. Alarm bells should be going off, but her mind was silent as she watched a pair of muscled thighs and a tight butt—perfectly displayed in running shorts—disappear through the door. The dog rose and trotted after its master. At the steps, it paused to turn its chocolate eyes to her.