Game For Love: Game On (Kindle Worlds Novella) (3 page)

BOOK: Game For Love: Game On (Kindle Worlds Novella)
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“Thank you
, Calvin.” God, he could feel the masseuse’s hands on his body already, working out the kinks from a long, hard season. “I had Manuel massage me last year. Is he still working here?”

“Yes, sir.” The
concierge smiled. “You’ll find very few employees choose to leave Little Palm.”

“I can imagine.”
Through the lenses of his sunglasses, he looked at the sun-kissed beauty surrounding him. Who would willingly leave paradise? He certainly hated to go home the too few times he’d stayed here.

Maybe next year Trent would consider extending the week to ten days.

“Right this way, sir.” Calvin gestured to a path and led the way.

Trent f
ollowed, eager to get to his private beachfront accommodations and out of the clothes he’d traveled in across the country.

A nice drink and a dip in the pool, then he could work on finishing the paperback he’d
started reading on the plane. Or maybe he’d take a nap in a lounge chair in the shade. His time was completely his own and he had every intention of taking every advantage of that, even if it was by doing absolutely nothing for the next seven glorious days.

Trent wasn’t in his bungalow five minutes when his cell phone rang. He
silently cursed at himself for not having turned it off. When he pulled it out of his pocket and saw Cole’s name on the display he cussed out loud this time.

He hit to answer the call, not bothering with hello. “No, I’m not telling you where I am.”

“Nice. Real nice, buddy.”

“I’m sorry, but—”

“Anna’s in labor. I thought you might want to know.”

In spite of the amusement coloring Cole’s voice,
Trent was torn which emotion to feel first. Concern. Guilt. Shame. “Dude, I’m so sorry. How is she? It’s going okay, right?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. I mean she’s miserab
le. She’s been in labor for hours and it looks like there’s going to be hours more to go, but she and the baby are doing okay. She nearly broke my hand during the last contraction, but the doctor says everything is going as it should.”

“Thank God for that.
This is early, isn’t it?” Trent hadn’t been away from his regular schedule for long enough to lose track of time. He’d thought Anna wouldn’t be having this kid for a little while yet.

“Yeah
, it is, but the doc says it’s okay so I’m doing my best not to worry. I just wish it would be over already. I want my wife out of pain and my baby safe and sound next to her.”

It sounded like the baby
had the same impatient temperament as his or her daddy.


Anything I can do for you?” It was a pointless question considering Trent was on the other side of the country from his friend but he felt like he should at least make the offer.

“Well, you could tell me the name of your secret paradise.”

Trent laughed. Now he knew things really were okay with Anna and the baby if Cole was joking with him. “No. Anything else?”

“Nah. We’re good.
If I do need anything her family is here to help—and there’s like a dozen of them. Melissa and Dominic and Ty and Julie are all here too.

It seemed like between family, friends and teammates, Cole and Anna were surrounded. Trent would have liked to
be there too, but who knew Anna would go into labor so early? “A’ight, but keep me informed.”

“You sure you want me bothering you?
I wouldn’t want to disturb whatever you got going on there. I don’t want to interrupt your uh . . . gambling?”

Trent shook his head as Cole
tried to guess his location. It seemed Las Vegas was at the top of the list. “No, I’m not at a casino.”

“Then y
our, uh, cattle drive?”

Trent let out a snort at that suggestion. “Hell
, no.”

A cattle drive
might seem like fun to a city boy like Cole, but speaking as someone who’d actually moved a thousand head of cattle from the summer pasture to the winter one and then back again months later, Trent knew it was no freaking vacation. Besides the fact January wasn’t when his granddaddy moved cattle anyway.

“Your girl-
watching?” Cole tried one more time.

Trent smiled. “
That
activity I can only hope for and if you let me get off this doggone phone and outside to the pool, I can get started.”

“Ah, ha!
So this secret location has got a pool—”

“Goodbye, Cole. Text me when there’s a baby.”

“Will do. Call me when you’ve landed yourself a babe.”

“Don’t hold your breath waiting for that call. Bye, dude.” Smiling, Trent hung up on his friend.

Even if he was lucky enough to have some nice scenery to look at during this week, it wasn’t as if he could take advantage of it. What would he do? Sidestep every question about what he did for a living?

Hell, even the
name he’d have to give the girl would be a lie.

No, this vacation wasn’t about g
etting laid. It was about not having to look over his shoulder or behind every bush for a camera and the asshole photographer attached to it. It was about pretending he was a normal everyday guy . . . who could afford a thousand dollar a night getaway for a week.

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t so average after all
, but Trent still needed the escape. The media even managed to find him on his granddaddy’s ranch in Texas.

T
rent did enjoy leading them on a chase though. The paparazzi had no chance of pursuing him when he took off on horseback across terrain that even off-road vehicles would have gotten stuck in.

Not that he’d had anything to hide. He
’d just been out for a ride, enjoying the landscape and checking the fence line while absorbing a few final moments of normalcy before the start of last year’s season when he’d spotted the guy trying to get a shot of him. He could have let the photographer have his pictures, but what fun would that have been?

Leading the guy on a wild goose chase, letting him believe Trent had something to hide, made for so much more entertainment. Trent’s grandfather and the hired hands laughed abo
ut it for the rest of the week.

Good times at the ranch, and he’d be back there again soon. He had a flight from Florida to Texas
booked for the end of the week.

Trent
had a break until the organized team activities started in late May. Until then, he could stay at the ranch and help out his grandfather.

Over the next couple of months there’d be
calving, tagging, vaccinations and branding. If being covered in mud and muck and working around the clock until he was ready to drop didn’t finish his annual though temporary transition to normalcy, nothing would. Even with the occasional insane photographer trying to sneak up on him at the ranch.

Strange dichotomy his life was. A week in the lap of luxury
doing nothing, followed by a few months of cattle ranching, which had to be one of the hardest jobs on God’s green earth. But his plan to keep himself grounded and sane amidst the surreal life of fame and fortune that had broken more than a few good men had worked this long. Why change it now?

Trent couldn’t think of a single reason. He also couldn’t figure why he was still inside when the great outdoors—or at least the pool and the bar
with a spectacular view of the horizon—beckoned.

A quick change out of
his traveling clothes and into a swimsuit, tank top and flip-flops and Trent was ready to head out. After slipping on sunglasses and a non-descript baseball hat over his newly lightened hair, he strode out into the late afternoon sun.

The flight across t
he country as well as the three-hour time change had eaten up a good bit of his first day, but that was fine. He had plenty more left to enjoy. Besides, he kind of liked the pool later in the evening when everyone else had gone inside to get showered and dressed for dinner. When the sun didn’t burn so hot and the air was still. The silence broken only by the sound of the crashing waves on the shore and the rustle of the breeze in the palm trees.

Paradise . . . interrupted by the sound of a text coming through to the cell phone in his pocket. Trent drew in a breath and tried not to be annoyed. That kneejerk reaction fled the moment he opened the photo and saw a tiny red-faced bundle of joy wrapped in a pink hospital blanket. The newborn was so small she fit in Cole’s hands.

Trent smiled and hit reply, typing in a text to his friend.

Beautiful! Good thing she looks like Anna. Congrats!

He was going to have to send them something. Flowers, maybe. Though everyone and their brother would be sending those. Something more personal maybe. He’d call Calvin later and see if there were any shops nearby he could recommend. Hell, Trent never went to stores at home. He had everything from his clothes to his food delivered to his house in San Francisco. Baby gift shopping could be fun.

Later.

Now, the only thing he was looking to order was a nice fruity tropical drink. Extra rum. Hold the tiny umbrella.

CHAPTER
FOUR

Laurel
knew she had to be patient.

Not every case was
going to be open and shut. She knew that tracking Trent O’Shea wasn’t anything like her usual assignments. Most times all she had to do was sit outside a cheating husband’s office and tail him to a rendezvous with his mistress. Then, she’d snap a few photos, write down a license plate number and report back to the client.

Not this time. Yes, if all else failed—and God she hoped it didn’t—she could wait until he wasn’t traveling. Until he was back in San Francisco and on a regular schedule
again, but that could be a while since the team was on a break between seasons. Waiting any longer than she already had was a luxury her client didn’t have with a baby on the way.

The timing
of this case and the professional football season couldn’t have been worse. It was working against her.

Stupid football. Laurel had known next to nothing about the sport a few days ago. Now, she knew entirely too much and none of it seemed to be helping her in her case.

An email pinged into her inbox. Not holding out much hope it would be anything useful after going on two days of dead ends in her investigation, she sighed and reached for the keyboard. She opened the alert she’d set up to automatically email her whenever the search engine’s web crawlers hit something new on the web about Trent O’Shea.

This
particular post looked to be on one of the social networks popular with the kids nowadays. Laurel could hardly keep up with the ever changing landscape of social media fads, but she could very well read this status update.

The
time and date is what had her leaning forward in her chair as she read the incredible words on the screen. The post was barely an hour old.

OMG
! Trent O’Shea was just in the store where I work!

This could be her big break.
Where was this store? Laurel’s heart pounded as she clicked on the girl’s name to read more.

Missy
Randall. The girl’s profile was an open book. Everything she shouldn’t post for the world to see, she had. Birthdate. Hometown. High School. College. And place of employment.

Bingo!

Le Bebe Boutique in Key West, Florida.

She
only took long enough to search for the address to enter into her car’s GPS before she was out the door. Laurel had to talk to Missy before the girl got off her shift at the shop. It was about a hundred and twenty miles to drive to Key West from her Homestead office.

Laurel
realized she might be stuck there overnight or even for a few days if she got a hot lead as to where Trent was staying. She’d need to pack a bag, which would take up time she didn’t have.

Panicking she’d miss this window of opportunity, she reminded herself that a
t least now she knew he wasn’t in Miami. Chances were good he was at a hotel in Key West, although he could have rented a private cottage. Even so, her investigation had just taken one giant step closer to finding him.

Prioritizin
g her To Do list, she knew she needed to grab supplies and an overnight bag, but she also had to question Missy Randall. Laurel dialed the number for the shop that she’d written down along with the directions. She didn’t exactly have a plan, except to play it by ear once she got Missy talking on the phone.

“Le Bebe Boutique. Missy speaking.”

“Hi. I’m wondering what your hours are today?”

“We’re open until nine tonight.”

“Oh, that’s great. You see I’m driving from a distance on my way to visit a friend who’s staying in Key West and I wanted to pick up a gift. Will you be there or somebody else?”

“I’ll be here until closing.”
Luckily, Missy didn’t seem to be concerned with why an unknown customer on the phone would care who was working in the shop this evening. The overly trusting nature of today’s youth could be disturbing for a person in Laurel’s business who’d seen so much bad in the world.

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