Love at the 20-Yard Line (7 page)

Haven took a sip of her water before answering Brody’s question.

“My brothers are all older than me. Wes is the oldest and married to Tammy. They have two little boys who are holy terrors and take after their father. I feel sorry for my sister-in-law being the only female in that house, but she doesn’t let them get to her, at least too often.”

Brody chuckled and she continued.

“You met Tom the other night. He’s only a year older than I am, and the most obnoxious of the three. Actually, he and Wes are a lot alike. Wes works with Dad on the family farm. Tom is a licensed realtor. He’s a good salesman, even if he is a pest of a brother. Hale was the mad chemist of the family and he’s now a pharmacist.” Haven dropped her voice to a whisper. “And if you can keep a secret, I’ll even admit he’s my favorite brother. He and I always got along really well.”

Brody leaned forward, bringing his face so close to hers, he could see flecks of light and dark blue dancing in those luminous eyes behind her glasses. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Good.” Haven sat back in her chair. She felt the need to keep a little distance from Brody because the desire to kiss him nearly got the best of her when he leaned across the table. His eyes were dark and rich, and he smelled so good, it made her feel lightheaded.

“You know, the other night I thought your brothers were twins until I was standing next to you and could see there was some age difference there,” Brody admitted. He refrained from telling her he thought she was dating one of them.

“People often mistake the three of them for triplets from a distance. They all look so much alike. They get their coloring from my mom.”

“So, do you take after your dad?”

Haven smiled. “Only my eye color. No one seems to know where this mop of hair came from.”

Unable to stop himself, Brody reached out and captured one of the curls that escaped the bun at the back of her head and rubbed it between his fingers. The silky strands were even softer than he imagined.

When Haven shifted uncomfortably in her chair, he released the springy coil and dropped his hand to his lap.

“What about you?” she asked, wanting to know more about the man who’d tricked her into having lunch with him. “Do you have any siblings?”

“Nope.” Brody took a long drink from his glass.

“Where do your parents live? Where are you from?” Haven had heard many of the football players lived in town just for the season, returning to their homes for the remainder of the year.

“My mom raised me in a little town back in Kansas. She still lives there,” Brody said.

“What about your dad?”

Angry sparks flickered in his eyes at the mention of his father. “He took off before I was born. He married my mom, Angelina, when they were both young and stupid. She got pregnant with me right away and that’s when he left. She never saw or heard from him again and doesn’t even know if he’s alive or dead.”

That was more information about himself than he’d shared with anyone other than Marcus. No matter what he did right or wrong in his lifetime, he’d never abandon a wife or child the way his father had.

His mother worked so hard, struggling to raise him as a single parent. He wouldn’t ever put someone through that.

“I’m so sorry, Brody,” Haven said, placing her hand over his and giving it a gentle squeeze. He lifted his gaze and took in the moisture gathering in her eyes. The last thing he wanted was her pity, so he changed the subject.

“Tell me again what you do for a living. I get the idea you’re pretty hoity-toity for someone barely out of school,” Brody said, knowing that would distract her.

“I’ll have you know I’m almost twenty-six. I graduated from college when I was twenty.” Brody’s comments made her defensive. People often assumed her age combined with her blond hair meant she was either unintelligent or incapable in her job. “I’ve been working for Mr. Young since then. Since his company is fairly new compared to some, he has a relatively young staff.”

“I see.” Brody hid his smile behind his glass. “What do you do?”

“I’m an image consultant and brand analyst.”

Brody tried to figure out what that meant, exactly, and gave her a questioning look.

“We work with companies who want to rebrand themselves, need a new corporate image, or want to tweak certain areas of their marketing and publicity strategy. We do everything from creating logos and designing websites to brand positioning and ad campaigns.”

“I don’t even know what half that means, but it sounds impressive.” Brody rested his arms on the table, studying Haven’s animated face. Suddenly, he wondered what she’d look like without glasses. They complemented her serious, professional demeanor, but without them on he’d bet her eyes would look even bigger and more alluring.

Haven reached down and pulled an iPad out of her bag. She tapped the screen a few times, scooted Brody’s empty plate out of the way, and placed the tablet in front of him.

“This is a project we just finished for one of our clients.” She showed him what the client’s logo, website, and advertisements looked like before she worked with them and what they looked like now. The difference was remarkable and Brody could see she excelled at her job.

“So what do you do specifically with something like this?” he asked, still not sure what her job entailed.

“For this project, I met with the company president, discussed what they wanted to accomplish, reviewed what they were doing, and made suggestions on what could work better. I took my ideas and the company objectives to our design teams and we met, brainstormed what we wanted to do, then got to work. I oversee the development of the specific components, although I don’t do the creative work myself.”

“Basically, you schmooze clients, come up with the ideas, and crack the whip to make them happen.” Brody boiled Haven’s job down to one straightforward statement.

“That’s an accurate assessment.” Haven nodded her head in agreement. “Now tell me about your job.”

“You know what I do. I catch the ball and run. Sometimes I tackle or block. That’s about it,” Brody said, simplifying his career.

“I know a little about football from having three brothers. You’re a wide receiver. Correct?”

“Correct.”

“And from what I’ve seen and heard, you’re a really good one. How in the world do you jump so high?”

“It’s just something I was always good at. Jumping and catching things thrown at me.” Those two talents had been useful when he was a scrawny kid trying to get away from the bullies that hounded him after school.

“What’s the highest you’ve ever jumped?”

“On the field, during a game, right at forty inches. But I’ve jumped a lot higher than that before. Once I even jumped over a backyard fence, but I had a good running start.”

“Oh, my gosh! That is amazing!” Haven couldn’t imagine jumping that high. “The highest I ever jumped was the time Tommy dumped a mouse down the back of my shirt.”

Brody laughed and Haven smiled.

“No wonder Hale’s your favorite.” Brody winked and gave her a teasing grin.

“Shh. I told you that’s a secret.” She placed a finger on his lips to silence him. The impact of that innocent touch left them both reeling as Haven snatched her hand back and placed it on her lap.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell.” Glancing at his watch, Brody realized they’d been at the restaurant for more than an hour. He assumed he’d probably kept Haven away from work longer than he should have.

He set his napkin on the table and looked around for the server so he could pay the bill. While he waited to catch her eye, he apologized to Haven. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the time. I hope I’m not making you late for your next appointment.”

After glancing at her watch, Haven shook her head. “I’ve got plenty of time. No apology necessary, except maybe for leading me here under false pretenses. Care to explain what that’s all about?”

“Let’s just say I was convinced you wouldn’t meet me here any other way and leave it at that. I’m sorry, Haven, really I am. But I’m not sorry you came or that we had the chance to visit for a while. I like talking to you.”

“I like talking to you, too,” she said, deciding to be bold and brave. “Next time, just ask if I want to have lunch with you instead of inventing some pathetic story.”

“It wasn’t pathetic,” Brody said, pretending to be offended. “It got you to come and it wasn’t a story. We did discuss modeling. We discussed how I won’t be doing it.”

“Technically, but still…”

Haven quieted as the server approached with the bill. Brody took it before she could protest.

“I can pay for my half.” Haven fished in her bag for her wallet.

“No. I invited you and I’m buying.” Brody wished he could spend the afternoon with Haven, but he needed to get going and she had to return to work.

He stood and held Haven’s coat for her, inhaling the tantalizing fragrance of her perfume as she slid her arms into the sleeves.

Her scent made him think of sunny skies, warm breezes, and spring flowers. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he wanted to pull her back against his chest and rain kisses along the exposed skin of her neck.

Instead, he took out his wallet and left cash for the bill as well as a generous tip on their table.

Haven noticed the other night Brody seemed to leave hefty tips and wondered about the reason. She assumed it was because both times the server was young and pretty and he was the big jock looking to impress a girl. Somewhat miffed by his actions, she glared down at the money he casually dropped next to the bill.

Brody caught Haven staring at the cash on the table. He shrugged his shoulders and looked down at his feet. “Mom worked two jobs as a waitress all the years I was growing up and to help put me through school. I… um…”

Haven reached out and squeezed his hand, aware that Brody had cracked open the door to his heart and let her peek inside for a brief moment. Remorseful settled over her for thinking his generous gesture was about stroking his ego. Perhaps there was more to the man than she originally thought. “I think that’s nice, Brody.”

He nodded and kept her hand in his as they exited the restaurant and returned to his truck. On the drive back to her office, they chatted about the weather and spring arriving soon. He started to get out to see her to the door, but she asked him not to.

“It will just distract the staff with unnecessary gossip and speculation if you do.” Haven placed her hand on his arm before he could get out of the truck.

“Why? Surely this isn’t the first time you’ve left with a man for lunch.” Brody assumed someone like Haven would have men asking her out on a daily basis.

“Well, it’s um…”

“Come on, Haven. You go to lunch with clients all the time, don’t you?”

“Yes, but you aren’t a client.”

“And I’m really glad about that because I’m pretty sure you can’t do this with your clients.” Brody leaned across the cab and placed a soft, gentle kiss on her surprised lips.

Although the contact was brief, Haven felt like her lips were about to burst into flame, along with the rest of her body from the brush of his mouth against hers.

“Thanks for lunch today, doll. I’m going to be playing out of town this week and next, but maybe we can see each other for lunch again, or something,” Brody said in a husky voice with his face just inches from Haven’s. His gaze rested on those pink lips he’d just kissed. He wanted to take her in his arms and drink from them until his thirst for the lovely woman was finally quenched.

Alert to the longing reflected in her eyes, along with a hint of uncertainty, Brody looked around his pickup for a piece of paper. He cleaned it out before he took her to lunch and didn’t even have a stray gum wrapper anywhere in the cab.