Game For Love: Gridiron Heartbreaker (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Gridiron Bad Boys Book 2) (3 page)

“Hello, sweetheart,” and he made sure to add his smile.

The woman blushed and her eyes widened a bit. Exactly what he'd expected and was used to. Alyssa had pretty much threatened to take his balls off. He wanted to go back to the kitchen and work for it—for her.

They hadn't even kissed and he was thinking like that. His drought had to end soon. Really, it fucking needed to.

CHAPTER FOUR

Alyssa turned the key in the ignition and prayed the third time was a charm. She squeezed her eyes shut and rotated the key a fourth, fifth and six time. Not even the lights flickered in her sedan. She dropped her forehead on the steering wheel and tried not to whine. Out loud at least.

Her feet hurt, she smelled of garlic and vanilla beans and at some point she'd almost chopped off her index finger. And now she'd be stuck in her boss's driveway until a tow truck could come get her.

No. She'd first have to alert her boss so the driver could get in past the gates. She liked Charlotte and enjoyed her company, but the woman and her groom-to-be had a look that pretty much said they'd be naked as soon as everyone left.

Considering what had happened in the kitchen between herself and Blaine, she could understand the priority of fantastic sex versus being a Good Samaritan. Her head had buzzed, so had her skin, which was why she'd almost lost a finger. Now he was back out of her life and she could avoid soul-tempting seduction.

She jolted straight at the knock on the window, and then a dimpled shit-eating grin accosted her view. Her heart jumped but her stomach dropped.

“Need some help?” a voice asked, one that had left her panties damp.

Help? Not from him. From Satan himself, yes, but not from Blaine. Instead of answering, she glanced around to see if anyone else could rescue her. There was a black SUV and Charlotte's car...well, outside of the cherry red Viper. She could guess who owned that pussy wagon.

Alyssa glanced up at the second knock, this time it was followed with a low chuckle.

“You are aware I can see through this glass, right?”

“I know you can see me,” she muttered, already feeling the give inside her to take him home. “I'm hoping another option presents itself.”

“What?” He put a hand up to his ear. “I can't hear you. The window is in my way.” He tapped on it, his smile wide.

Her stomach and heart did that stupid flutter again. He was handsome and he knew it. Probably used his looks to get into trouble and out of it. She wasn't over men like him, because she'd never dated one who had the incredible bone structure to back up his oversized ego.

She was taking a vacation from possible heart break. If there was ever a man who promised it with a smile, Blaine did.

Alyssa tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She wasn't the kind of woman who gave in to anyone who called her pretty or who groaned at the first taste of her food. Her attraction wasn't only for the easy smiles or the fact he would roll his sleeves up and get to work in a kitchen like it was a second home. There was just something about Blaine that was getting to her.

The only other option would be to get him to go away. What made men like him run fast in the other direction?

She smiled. Nothing made playas run faster than an open and available woman looking for commitment.

Alyssa faced the window and glanced at him beneath her lashes. “Blaine, I do need your help. You're my hero.”

His brows furrowed when she opened her door. He edged back, his gaze narrowing. “Your hero?” There was a thread of cautious acceptance in his tone.

She nodded and offered up her keys. “Would you...take a look for me? I don't know what's wrong.”

She stepped forward and closed her a hand around one of his impressive biceps then squeezed. A thrill ran up her spine and made her scalp tingle. His skin was tight and warm.

It wasn't hard to add a little breathy note to her voice. “You’re so big and strong. I bet you know a lot about cars.”

He blinked then laughed. “I know a little, but you tell me what happened?”

She leaned into him. “Don't you want to check it yourself?”

“Your word is good enough for me.”

Oh. That was interesting...and she liked it. She toned down the coyness in her voice. “It's dead. No lights, not even a wheezing gasp when I turn on the ignition.”

He nodded and she could see his thoughts flickering over his expression. “So do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

A nervous energy buzzed along her skin. “What do you mean?”

“Let me help you or...the hard way.”

She dropped her hand from his skin. It was too warm and appealing to keep touching him. Soon she'd start petting him and there would be no turning back.

“I want you to...” Then she remembered—open and available and marriage. “I want the easy way. The way where you sweep me off my feet.”

He laughed again, his eyes bright with humor. “Okay, Alyssa.”

Before she could truly understand what his tacit agreement meant, he bent slightly...and well, swept her off her feet. A little yelp escaped before a laugh followed.

“To my carriage?” he asked as though he wasn't the most ridiculous man to walk the planet.

“Will you put me down?” She tried to say in a serious tone but the laugh refused to die.

He brought his gaze down to meet hers. “If only you'll stop lying to me. I liked your honesty. This little fluttery act is not the woman I met in your kitchen.”

Her hand, with its own mind, reached up to cup his cheek. Stubble tickled her palm. A frisson at the simple touch kicked her heart into a solo race. A second later she dropped her hand down to press against her stomach—butterflies. When was the last time a man had created that kind of reaction? Her teens? She sighed, and knew there was only one real answer. Fighting it was pointless, but she tried.

“You don't know me,” she said.

“I've become a pretty good judge of character over the years.”

She believed him. He probably met more people in a year than she would in her entire lifetime. Probably had to make tough judgment calls on every single one. She couldn't imagine living like that. What could living like that could do to a person? She looked at him. The smile was gone replaced by a somber expression.

“So you want me to be honest?” she asked.

“Even when it hurts.”

“Why?”

“I'm bored.”

She tilted her head and fought the urge to cuss. “I'm entertainment for you?”

He shifted her in his arms but otherwise seemed un-bothered by holding her and all her considerable taste-testing weight.

“You've barreled into my life and I find you interesting.” He was quiet for a moment. “Or I've barreled into yours. Can't quite decide yet. Either way, everything else but you, right now, bores the fuck out of me. And it makes sense to not let you walk out of my life yet.”

She
couldn't decide if that was a compliment or not. “You burst into mine and now I'm being held like a cranky baby. Put me down.”

“Are you sure? I can get used to this. My forearm is very close...”

His arm cradled right under her ass. “Put. Me. Down.”

There was his laugh again, so fluid and masculine, but he slowly lowered her so she could stand. The shoes and socks she wore seemed to scrape along the bottoms of her feet. There would be blisters if she didn't shuck them off and elevate her ankles. The slacks and the starch white shirt seemed tighter and more uncomfortable than they had been hours ago when she'd first put them on.

The thought of waiting another hour, if not more, before she could fall face first into her bed, made tears of exhaustion and frustration spring to her eyes. She'd worked doubly hard to impress her boss and to make the night seamless. It was both a point of pride and a necessity to make the move from Florida work.

Her options were simple—let him take her home or let him take her home and invite him to stay for a while—and neither choice made her happy. Nervous, yes. Desperate for more...maybe.

Knowing more or less about him could help....
maybe
. “What else happens with the easy way?” she asked.

“I take you home. You thank me like you mean it and in the morning your car is in your driveway. Your fixed car.”

The proposition sounded too simple for a man who could smile and make a woman's panties disappear. “Straight home?”

“If that's what you want.”

There it was—the unspoken but oh-so-tempting invitation. She almost swayed from the seduction of the offer. But she'd been swayed before, had listened to her head instead of her heart. By the time her gut had offered an opinion it was too late. Getting into a car, with a cute guy who had an easy, playful manner could spell disaster—again.

“Do you really want honesty?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“My feet hurt. I smell weird. My car's busted. My boss is probably doing unspeakable things with her fiancé—which makes knocking on the door a problem, but the thing you should really listen to is that I'm not looking for a relationship, much less a hook-up.”

A shadow passed over his gaze, and his broad shoulders seemed to lock in place. “Who broke your heart?”

She flinched at the accuracy of his guess. “A man I thought I should spend the rest of my life with.”

His brows worked their way into a furrowed line. “'Should spend is an interesting way to explain a broken engagement. Huh.” And then his gaze somehow intensified. “Do you want honesty back?”

Alyssa pursed her lips, a little surprised by the offer, but he sounded sincere—seemed sincere even when he was being ridiculous. She flicked her wrist as though to say go for it. “Seems fair.”

Only the slightest twitch of his lips warned her. “The best way to get over someone is to find someone else.”

“Really?” She was so proud the laugh didn't spill out. “Any ideas for my replacement?”

“I might be the best cure to a broken heart. Not to brag.”

“Of course,
never to brag
.” And then she thought about that. “Why?”

“Do you really want to know? Or do you want me to show you?”

Why did her skin tighten at the question? It was just words put together. In his deep voice. Delivered with an intense gaze, and a seriousness that made her think there was so much more to Blaine that made her ache to know.

But her gut was telling her to wait, find out more before she made a decision. “I want to go home and shower.”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “All right.” He gestured to his car.

Wary, she strode over to the passenger door and waited for him to unlock the door.

“It's open,” he told her.

“Oh.”

The moment she opened the door the scent of expensive leather hit her. She'd expected something sleek on the inside, but the car had plenty of leg room—not that she needed the extra space. Alyssa settled in and almost moaned at the way the leather molded to her. The subtle throb in her arches quieted. He slid in behind the wheel, pushed a button that made the engine roar to life. She...well, she tried not to drop off into a coma on the butter-soft leather.

Blaine glanced at her, an amused expression brushing away the furrow along his brow line. “This would go faster if you told me where you lived.”

“Oh.” And she had wondered why they hadn't left yet. “Sorry.”

“I'm a little offended my car's seat is getting more play from you. It's never even tasted your food.”

She tried not to preen at the not-so-subtle compliment about her cooking. “Instead of flirting or using innuendo, you should have offered a foot rub.”

“Noted. Now your address.”

She told him and tried to keep her eyes open as they hit the road, but even at the speed they were going, the ride was smooth.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “Curious question, Alyssa.”

She glanced at him and his attention was fixed on the street. No smile came with the request so she considered the offer of conversation with the same level of seriousness, and lots of caution.

She asked, “What question?”

“What happened with your ex?”

Five months and there was still a pinch in her heart at the thought of Andrew. “That's a hefty question for a ride home.”

“It's nosy, but it's either that or I turn on the radio to fill the awkward silence.”

She crossed her arms. “Tell me about your last ex.”

He seemed to chew on that. “As in I was exclusive and the world knew we were a couple?”

She sat up a little. “The fact you need to have that kind of definition...”

His mouth quirked at the insult. “You wanted honesty. I date. Not many women want the real football experience for the rest of their lives.”

She'd never really thought past the glitz of a profession like his. Often she worked in sprawling houses with maids and blue blood drama. After clean up, she left and went back to her life that was grounded in lazy Sundays cooking and experimenting with recipes.

And sports...she had no real clue about it behind the sweat and football pads other than sometimes catching the end of a game or the buzz of an athlete. Professional sports was a different world, and he was very much a part of it.

More than curious, she turned a bit more in her seat to face him. “And what's that like?”