Line of Scrimmage (13 page)

She looked at the clock. It was almost lunchtime. Jake always slept after his shower and shave and whatever else the guy did for him. She was sure with his inability to handle himself physically he was exhausted by everything. But he’d said earlier he wanted lunch so she walked back to the master suite.

“Did you get rid of the jackass?” Jake wanted to know.

“I did, but I don’t think he was happy.”

“Tough shit.” Jake made a rude sound. “He thinks he’s a one-name celebrity, like that singer, Prince.”

“So what
is
his name?”

“Gary Santos, but he thinks that sounds too ordinary.” Jake grunted. “He doesn’t even qualify for ordinary, if you ask me.”

She bit her lip. “I hate to say this, but I think he needs some etiquette lessons.”

Jake laughed, a rusty sound as if he hadn’t done it for a while. She was sure he hadn’t had much to laugh about lately.

“That asshole. I hope you put him in his place.”

Oh, yes, she certainly had. “I told him you weren’t taking calls. I also suggested that if he was really a friend, he’d have your cell phone number.”

Jake grinned at her, a panty-melting smile that had her biting her lip.

No, no, no.

“You are so damn right. I don’t want to talk to him or see his ugly face.”

“I take it you don’t like him?”

“No shit.” He shifted his position slightly, hitching himself up a little higher against the pillows. “He’s another wide receiver on the team with an ego bigger than the whole city of Austin. He thinks my injury is his ticket to stardom.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “How so?”

“He’s not a regular starter, so he figures he’ll get more playing time now that I’m out of commission. He wants to come here and stick it in my face.”

“Nice guy.” She studied him. “By the way, he’s the first personal call you’ve had. Mostly it’s just been your agent and people from the team office. How come your phone isn’t ringing off the hook?”

Jake rubbed the thigh of his injured leg above the cast. Erin was sure it ached a lot.

“Coach Raymond put out the word to the team members to lay off for a few days. I asked Ivy to tell the same thing to our friends.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I really don’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“I can understand that. So what did you do with the phone from this room? You do have one in here, don’t you? Although I’m sure you don’t get many calls on it.”

He pointed to the drawer. “Stuck it in there. I told you I’m in no mood to answer phone calls.” He lifted a shoulder. “I believe that’s your job, right?”

“Sure. Whatever.” She frowned. “And your cell? Did you decide to hide that away, too?”

“Same place. As a matter of fact, why don’t you just take it and keep it with you. That way if it rings you can answer it and tell whoever it is to go to hell.”

“Jake!” She was appalled. “Why would I want to do that?”

“I told you. I’m not in the mood to see anyone. They’ve all been asked to give me some space.” He grimaced. “But I guess we’re out of space.”

“I’m sure people are concerned about you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Right. I don’t want anyone to tell me everything’s going to be okay when I know there’s a chance it won’t. I don’t want anyone fussing over me or telling me how much they miss me on the field. And I don’t want any of the guys showing up with big-breasted, little-brained females thinking they’ll cheer me up. I’m in no mood for bullshit. Period.”

“But they’re your friends,” she protested.

“Ha!” Anger cut lines in his face and flashed in his eyes. “I’m really not that close to any of the guys. And the others? Only when I’m a big star on the field. Otherwise they’re just going to come pay their obligatory visit, then go out and tell everyone what a mess I am right now.”

She wanted to tell him that he was all wrong, that his friends would not do that. But she’d seen enough of these guys in action to know the only thing important to them was their ego. A major reason why they—and Jake—were on her No-No list.

She didn’t know if she wanted to smack him for his pity party or feel sorry for the mess he was in through no fault of his own. More than that, she’d noticed that as they talked, his cock, which had been blissfully at rest, was again swollen and pushing against the flimsy fabric of his shorts.

Deliberately averting her eyes, she opened the nightstand drawer, making sure to stand as far away from the bed as she could. Sure enough, next to his cell was the landline phone, just tossed in. She lifted out the cell and stared at it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to keep this in here? I feel funny with your phone.”

“There’s no one I want to talk to,” he said.

“What about all your little cuddle bunnies? I expected them to be swarming all over you.”

“I have a fucking broken leg,” he snapped. “And I haven’t had any so-called cuddle bunnies. They bore me.”

“Uh-huh. That’s what they all say.” Like Trace McKay. She bit her lower lip. “Okay, we have some other things to go over. I thought I’d order some lunch. Maybe we could eat together and talk.”

“And where would we do that?” He waved at his leg. “I have trouble enough just getting to the bathroom and back.”

She glanced at the sliding doors that led out to a patio. “I thought it might be pleasant to eat out there. I can help you.”

Frustration flashed in his eyes again. “And if I fall? Are you going to pick me up?”

“Jake, you could fall when I’m helping you to the bathroom. Quit being such an ass.”

“I’m not an ass, I’m a cripple.”

“Oooh! Time for a pity party?”

“I deserve one.” He pounded his hand on the nightstand, then winced.

“Go ahead,” she told him. “Break your other hand.”

He glared at her. “Could I have a little sympathy and understanding here? This isn’t exactly a picnic.”

Erin shook her head. One minute she felt sorry for him, the next she wanted to kill him. She knew his emotions were all over the place as he tried to deal with what was happening to him. Despite her lingering resentment at being here, she could empathize with him and his predicament. But enough was enough.

“I don’t think sympathy is what you need right now. Are you in a shitty situation? Yes. No question about it. Could it be worse? Yes. Could you deal with it better? I happen to think so.”

“You’re all heart,” he snapped. “Thanks for being so understanding.”

Erin had to stifle the urge to smack him. Okay, he was in a bad situation, but he didn’t have to act like a little kid whose party had been spoiled. “I do understand. I even understand why you might not want to see people, although I think your closest friends might cheer you up. But…” She held up a hand. “You have two choices. You can sulk and rage and feel sorry for yourself. Or you can be pissed off but make the best of it. If I’m going to do this job properly we have things to discuss.”

“Yeah?” He scowled at her. “Like what?”

“Stuff. I thought it might change your adorable attitude if I got you outside for a little while. It’s a nice day and fresh air does wonders for the disposition.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my damn fucking disposition.” Irritation laced his voice.

Erin burst out laughing. “I rest my case.” She managed to swallow her smile. “Ivy said in her notes that you like Mexican food. I found a menu from a Mexican restaurant near here, so I thought I’d place an order. They menu says they deliver. That work for you?”

“Yeah. Fine, whatever.”

“When the food gets here,” she told him, “we’re eating on the patio. No more bed trays for you. End of discussion.”

She turned to leave the room, but Jake reached out and grabbed her wrist. His fingers seared her skin like individual brands. Once again, when she tried to tug her hand free, he tightened his grip.

“Why do you always want to run away from me? Why are you afraid to let me touch you?”

“I’m not.” She yanked and he released his grip. “I just don’t think we need to have a lot of touching here. Except, of course, when I help you move around.”

“I don’t bite.” His voice was soft, like a caress. “Or maybe I do, in the right places.”

First he wanted to take her head off, and then he wanted to seduce her. He was all over the place, and she had to figure out how to deal with it. She stuck his cell phone in her pocket and headed for the door. “I’ll be back when the food gets here.”

* * * *

Jake watched her leave the room, eyes fastened on the delicious sway of her hips and the curve of her delectable ass. His good hand curved automatically, as if cupping its nice roundness. He itched to touch her again, to caress her smooth skin and inhale her spicy scent. He’d relived that night over and over and over again, the memories ingrained in his brain. Witness the embarrassing evidence of a wet dream she’d caught when she walked in on him still fisting his cock. When he’d calmed down after discovering this little situation his sister had engineered, he’d hoped maybe they could pick up where they left off, or maybe start again, if that was what it took.

Not only did Erin Bass have a very low judgment of football players, she had a temper to go with it. Which, in turn, spiked his own. Being laid up the way he was, his season on the field down the drain, didn’t do much for his disposition, which he was sure only added to her opinion of him.

He wondered if Ivy had bothered to tell her exactly how long this job would last. He’d hardly been able to believe it himself. Three months in the cast. Three fucking months before he could even begin to start therapy. No matter that during that time, if the x-rays showed him healing properly, he could graduate to a walking cast. Never mind that in another week he might get the soft cast off his wrist.

Oh, and that would be another pleasant interlude. He had to go to the doctor’s office to get both the leg and wrist x-rayed to check the progress. How the hell was Erin going to manage that? Getting him back and forth across the room was hard enough.

Shit, shit, shit.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows, trying to calm himself before he burst a blood vessel. His leg hurt and his wrist ached, but he wasn’t going to take the damn pain pills. It had been three weeks already, and he wasn’t going to let himself become dependent on them. He’d had worse pain when he
hadn’t
had broken bones, so he could gut it out.

He did his best to clear his mind and focus on something pleasant. Immediately, the image of Erin naked beneath him popped into his mind, and that certainly wasn’t going to relax him.
Water
, he thought.
Water is soothing and calming. I’ll try that
.

While he was mentally searching for something peaceful to focus on, he dozed off, startled awake when something touched his arm. He blinked and saw Erin beside the bed, gently touching him. As soon as she saw him open his eyes, she pulled her hand away.

“I knocked,” she told him, “but you didn’t answer. I worried that something had happened to you.”

“Like what?” He looked as if he wanted to chew nails. “Hasn’t enough happened already?”

“I’m glad to see a nap juiced up that sweet personality of yours. I came in to tell you the food is here. I’m going to set up everything on the table outside before I help you to a chair.”

“Fine. Fine, fine, fine. Whatever.”

“Everything will be set up in a minute.”

He watched her as she fetched lunch from the kitchen, then drinks, and finally a large stack of mail and her iPad. Getting outside was just as much fun as moving always was, especially since he needed to make a quick pit stop first. To her credit, Erin never complained, never said a cross word about it, even though he knew juggling his unwieldy body wasn’t easy for her.

Out on the patio, she pulled over another chair to rest his leg on and made sure he would be able to eat as comfortably as possible before settling herself.

“Just FYI,” she told him. “The maid is here cleaning the rest of the house. She’s going to do your bedroom and bathroom while we’re out here. I figured that man cave needed airing out.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

“I’m overwhelmed with your graciousness.”

Jake made a rude noise and turned to his food.

He eyed the plate in front of him. Tamales, rice, and refried beans. One of his favorite meals, and easy to eat with only one functioning hand. Good. He’d told her to get Mexican, but too many women would have ordered food that required a dexterity he didn’t have at the moment.

Erin pulled his cell phone from her pocket and set it on the table beside the other things she’d brought.

“What’s all that?” He indicated the things next to her as he cut off a piece of tamale.

“Mail.” She chewed a bite of food and swallowed. “I threw out all the junk mail, and this is what’s left. I think it’s a three-week accumulation. I hope there isn’t anything important in it.”

He shrugged. “Probably not. If it was urgent they would have called my agent or the team office.”

“Oh, by the way.” She picked up his cell phone and looked through the messages. “I hope you don’t mind. I checked your calls, since you’ve had this turned off. I figured that if someone really needed to get hold of you they’d have called the landline.”

“I told you, they know better than to bother me.” He forked another bite of tamale into his mouth.

“Still. I assumed you didn’t mind me looking, since you told me to take the phone.”

“So what did you find? Nothing important, I’m sure.”

“Joe Reilly called. Said to get back to him when you felt like talking.” Erin glanced at him. “Wasn’t he injured, too? I seem to remember he had to retire.”

“Good shot.” His fingers tightened on the fork he held. “Maybe he wants to tell me being gimpy and out of the action isn’t so bad after all.”

“Quit it.” She said the words in a normal voice, almost as an afterthought. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself. I think it’s great that you have friends interested in what’s happening to you. Maybe share their feelings with you.”

“Guys don’t share their feelings.” He stabbed at the food on his plate.

“Oh, right, right. I forgot. Maybe you don’t even have feelings.”

“What else?” he demanded.