Guarding Sophie (8 page)

Detective Diaz cleared her check stand in one leap and knelt down next to Peter as she whipped handcuffs out of her pants pocket. “Peter Hutchinson, you are under arrest,” she said. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law.” She continued to recite the Miranda warning as she glanced up, caught Sophie's eyes, and winked.

Seconds later, Kyle stepped around both his teammate and the detective, pulled Sophie into his arms, and switched the intercom on again. “We've got this, babe,” he said. He put the receiver up to his mouth to speak.

“Would all police officers in the store come to check stand 2? Cleanup on check stand 2.”

L
ATER THAT DAY
, Kyle put the finishing touches on his tie as he listened to Sophie's light footsteps moving around in his master bathroom. They didn't want to leave Abendblume, but the fact that Peter was now behind bars meant that he and Sophie could keep their promise to Derrick and Holly. Kyle had to go home and put on a suit. Sophie managed to find a dress to wear and some heels that fit. They were chaperoning Michael's prom.

Kyle also managed to get a wrist corsage for Sophie at the last minute. He hadn't been this nervous at his own prom, and it seemed like she was taking all night in there. They'd decided to skip the pre-prom dinner Derrick offered. They could have dinner with the guys over the next few nights. He wanted Sophie all to himself tonight if he could manage it.

He must have shaken hands with Kade Harrison and thanked him twenty times this afternoon. Harrison was a real asshole, but he saw Peter grab Sophie before anyone else and he took care of things. He didn't break Peter's arms, but Kyle was willing to bet that Peter had a cracked rib or two. He had to admit a real pang of jealousy when a shaken Sophie threw her arms around Kade's neck to hug him after Noel's police force had Peter in the back of their squad car.

“You saved me,” she said.

“Oh, no, darlin'. I helped,” Kade said. He patted her on the back and gave Kyle a nod. “You did me a favor. I loved kicking that bastard's ass.”

“Thank you.”

“You're not going to cry now, are you?” Kade tugged gently on the copper-colored braid that hung over Sophie's shoulder. “It's all going to be fine. See you later.” He raised an eyebrow as he locked eyes with Kyle. “Take care of her, bro.”

He sauntered out of the store.

“He must have a girlfriend,” Sophie said to Kyle.

“He can't have mine,” Kyle said.

Sophie wrapped her arms around him as he pulled her closer. She was safe. Things were fine. All he had to do now was figure out how he was going to deal with it if she decided to go back to Cocoa Beach.

K
YLE HEARD THE
bathroom door open, and Sophie stepped into the early evening sunlight that draped his room. He almost fell to his knees when he saw her.

She wore a gauzy, pretty dress that brought out her blue eyes and swirled around her knees. She'd put on a little makeup and high heels. Her hair was done in some fancy braid, with wispy pieces that escaped and framed her face. He could smell the same perfume she'd had on last night too. She looked so beautiful, and he didn't know what to say for a minute or so. He held out the corsage box the florist had put her creation in.

“This is for you. I wasn't sure what to buy.”

“Oh. It's gorgeous,” she said. Her face lit up. He knew she would have been thrilled if he went out in the backyard and pulled some weeds or whatever, but he wanted her to have something pretty. “And you remembered that I love roses too. Thank you.”

“You're welcome. Let me put it on you,” he said. He'd never been this nervous on a football field. He could grab a TD pass on third and twenty with ten seconds left in a game, no problem. He sure as hell was when he stood in his room in front of the prettiest girl he'd ever known. He managed to get the corsage out of the box, though, and he slipped it over her hand and onto her wrist.

“It's lovely,” she said. He saw color rising in her cheeks. “And you look so handsome.”

If he hadn't already promised Collins, he would have tossed her on the bed and sent the guys a text later. He held out his arm.

“Shall we go?”

“I'd like that,” she said.

They arrived at Noel High School's gym a few minutes later. He was a little shocked to see some very large, formally dressed men (accompanied by some familiar-looking wives and girlfriends) clustered around the gym doors.

Derrick Collins stepped out of the crowd. “I told you to be on time.”

“We're on time,” Kyle said. “It doesn't start for ten minutes. And I thought you were going to be in Seattle tonight.”

“The radiologist had a hole in his schedule tomorrow. Plus, Holly had to wear her new dress, didn't she?”

Kendall McCoy stepped forward and held out her hand. “It's so nice to meet you, Sophie. I understand we're all chaperoning the senior prom tonight.”

“Yes. I think it'll be fun,” Sophie said.

“Maybe we'll get some ice cream afterward,” Kade Harrison called out.

“Hey. I like ice cream,” Tom Reed said. “Let's get the hell in there, shall we?”

Going to the prom with Sophie Hayes was even better than Kyle dreamed. There were so many chaperones that there wasn't much to do, so he danced with his new girlfriend instead. He also slipped the DJ a hundred bucks to play a song for them. He felt pretty sure the performer in question must have been thinking about his and Sophie's love story when she wrote it.

“This one goes out to the football player and the prettiest girl on the bleachers,” the DJ said.

Kyle reached out for Sophie's hand when he heard the first few notes. He led her onto the dance floor. She let out a happy sigh as she nestled against him.

He didn't want to ruin such a beautiful moment, but he couldn't wait any longer.

“What happens next for us, Sophie?”

“We could dance a little more,” she said. He felt her fingers slip into his hair. “We could go home later.”

“Home to Cocoa Beach?”

She took a breath and rubbed the tip of her nose against his.

“No, silly,” she said. Her smile lit up the darkened high school gym. “We're home now.”

“And you belong with me,” he said. “Always.”

 

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CHASING JILLIAN

Score a touchdown with Julie Brannagh's latest Love and Football novel about discovering who you are and finding love along the way.

Jillian Miller likes her job working in the front office for the Seattle Sharks, but lately being surrounded by a constant parade of perfection only seems to make her own imperfections all the more obvious. She needs a change, which takes her into foreign territory: the Sharks' workout facility after hours. The last thing she expects is a hot, grumbly god among men to be there as witness.

Star linebacker Seth Taylor had a bad day—well, a series of them recently. When he hits the Sharks' gym to work out his frustration, he's startled to find someone there—and even more surprised that it's Jillian, the team owner's administrative assistant. When he learns of Jillian's mission to revamp her lifestyle, he finds himself volunteering to help. Something about Jillian's beautiful smile and quick wit makes him want to stick around. She may not be like the swimsuit models he usually has on his arm, but the more time Seth spends with Jillian the harder he falls.

And as Jillian discovers that the new her is about so much more than she sees in the mirror, can she discover that happiness and love are oh-so-much better than perfect?

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A
LL SHE HAD
to do was not get caught.

Jillian Miller let herself into the Sharks' silent weight room. The coaches, players, and other front-office personnel had all gone home for the evening; it was just her and an exercise DVD. She couldn't afford a gym membership on her salary. John, the owner of the Sharks, was a great guy to work for, but she was in her first year here. She wouldn't get a raise for another six months at least.

She wasn't sure about the rules involved in using the team's weight room, but she was fairly sure it might be frowned upon. “It's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission,” she muttered.

The Sharks' weight room was approximately the size of an airport hangar. One wall was mirrored; the opposite wall consisted of a garage-style glass-and-metal door opening onto the practice field. The room was filled with what Jillian imagined must be hundreds of thousands of dollars of state-of-the-art exercise equipment and smelled surprisingly good for a place seventy guys spent hours each day in working up a significant amount of sweat. She didn't spend a lot of time working out, let alone hanging around in any gym. She was unsure what she should expect, besides feeling like she'd landed on another planet.

The last straw for her had been such a little thing, in retrospect. A tall, thin, perfectly groomed woman had eyed the contents of Jillian's shopping cart at the grocery store yesterday. Two pints of Ben & Jerry's Late Night Snack, a large bag of dark chocolate M&M's, and a stack of low-calorie microwave meals. She'd caught Jillian's eye, shaken her head, and walked away. It had happened before, but the memory still made her flinch.

Jillian didn't want to be a supermodel or a size two. Mostly, she'd like to feel more comfortable in her own body, and the feeling had been building for quite some time before yesterday's incident in the grocery store. She also knew most people spent their weekends in active outdoor pursuits, especially in the Seattle area. She'd never been a big fan of exercise, but she'd like to meet some new people. Even more, she'd like to meet a guy. She'd like to fall in love, and she'd like to have a family. She wasn't going to accomplish this by spending most of her weekend evenings on her own. A little exercise (and trying some new pastimes) couldn't hurt.

She pulled out the DVD she'd brought with her and popped it into the player. An impossibly fit woman began barking instructions, and Jillian tried to follow along. The woman in question, though, weighed a lot less than Jillian did. She wasn't winded at all. She looked like the professional cheerleaders that passed Jillian's desk on a daily basis—thin, toned, and perfect.

Jillian was already dripping. She glanced at her watch. Five minutes? That was it? Surely the United Nations would classify this as torture. The DVD woman was jumping around like a lipsticked chimp on Red Bull. Besides being relentlessly, annoyingly cheerful, she barked out a count only the Energizer Bunny could hope to keep up with. It couldn't be good to sweat this much. Obviously, sweating was part of working out, but it seemed a little excessive. She needed to breathe too. Maybe some water would help.

Just a few minutes more. She could do it. Sure she could: All she needed was a transfusion and an amphetamine drip.

S
ETH
T
AYLOR PUSHED
his way through the front doors of the practice facility. He needed to work out like some guys needed to get drunk to forget. He'd just had the last fight with his girlfriend. Two years of her jealous rages—her baseless, jealous rages—were more than enough. Seth had finally told her it was over, shortly before he flung his cell phone against the passenger door of his car in utter frustration. The screen shattered on impact. It was the last thing he'd lose to Kim, besides the chunks of his soul she'd already taken. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever met, but he couldn't take it another day.

If he was brutally honest, the problems with Kim were a symptom of what was really going on with him. He was restless. Despite the fact he already had more in life than most, he wanted even more. His inner struggle had nothing to do with wealth or fame. He wanted meaning. He wanted to find something to do in his spare time that made him feel like he'd made a difference in his world, besides attaining the high score on the latest video game. Right after that, he'd like to find a woman who wanted those same things and didn't make him want to shatter a six-hundred-dollar cell phone against his car door any time soon.

At least the place would be long deserted. He would lock himself in the weight room, turn the sound system up to the pain level, and sweat Kim out of his system. She was out of his life, and he could concentrate on things that made him happy for a change.

He strode to the weight room door and stopped. Someone was in there.

J
ILLIAN HEARD A
loud, angry male voice behind her.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

All she saw was a tall, dark-haired man with dark, intense eyes. It was hard to respond to him while she was huffing and puffing. Her heart pounded with a combination of exertion and the rushing adrenaline of fear. She knew he was one of the Sharks, but she didn't know enough about him to know whether or not he would freak out. Her embarrassment took a temporary backseat to her alarm.

“I'm Jillian.” It seemed fairly self-explanatory what she was doing, at least to her. “I work here.”

“I haven't seen you before.” He moved even closer, blocking her against another wall, next to a huge white board, with his height and much-larger, rock-hard body. His muscles had muscles. “Who are you?”

“I work for John Campbell. What are you doing?”

She frantically looked around for an escape. She could make it out the weight room doors if she had to. She couldn't outrun him, but her fingers wrapped around the cell phone in her pocket. She'd hit 911 and scream at the top of her lungs. She stepped away from him. Surprisingly enough, he stayed where he was.

“Don't we all? So, who exactly are you?” he asked.

“I'm John's assistant.”

He rested his hands on his hips as he studied her. His brows knit together. “Why are you here?”

“I'm doing my taxes. What do you think?”

Jillian was still a bit scared. Obviously, she'd startled him. He had startled her too. The only thing left to do, though, was stand her ground. She didn't owe Godzilla an explanation, and she took another shallow breath. Her heart was still pounding, but the panic and jitters of surging adrenaline were replaced with dismay. What would happen when her boss heard about this?

The guy reached out and tried to grab the remote from her; she put it behind her back. She turned to extract the DVD from the player, picked up the case, and shut off the TV.

“There you go. I'm leaving. You'll have the place all to yourself,” she said.

“Wait!” he said, the word bursting out. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” She swallowed hard. “I . . . I thought everyone was done for the day. I hoped this wouldn't be a problem.” She flipped the long, damp blonde ponytail over her shoulder and turned toward the door. He reached out to take her elbow. His touch was surprisingly gentle.

“Hey. Let's give this another try,” he told her. “I'm Seth. What's your name again?”

“I'm Jillian. I know I'm probably not supposed to be in here, so maybe I should just leave.” The flash of irritation she felt at the fact he'd forgotten her name was superseded by dread. “Please don't tell John. I need this job.”

Seth took the DVD case out of her fingers. She grabbed at air, but he flipped it over to take a look. “
Cardio Burn
? Listen, Jennifer—”

“Jillian,” she reminded him.

“Yeah. Jill. The treadmill is a lot more effective than this DVD. You also won't be as prone to injury. How about it?” He took her elbow in his fingertips and steered her in the direction of the treadmills.

“I have to go . . . ”

He still held her elbow. A teasing smile moved over his mouth. “Are you sure about that? Let's walk a little. You know how to use a treadmill, don't you?”

She hadn't been on a treadmill in so long, she wasn't exactly sure what to do. Surely she could figure it out. She glanced at the control panel, which seemed to have a lot in common with the flight deck of a commercial airliner. She wondered if anyone actually used all of the readouts available.

“It seems more complicated than I remember,” she said.

Seth helped her step onto the machine and reached out to punch buttons on the display. “You can handle it,” he said. “How tall are you, Jill?”

“Five-foot-four. And my name is Jillian.” She looked down at her feet. Godzilla's eyes were about a thousand shades of brown.

“Short, huh?” Her head shot up. She narrowed her eyes at him, but she saw the flash of another smile, and she had to smile too. He had a dimple in his chin. His eyes sparkled. For a moment, she wondered what it would be like to see his smile more often. “So, I need your weight.”

“Don't worry about that. I'll just go home.” Jillian stepped off the treadmill.

“Luckily, there's a scale right here,” he said. “No big deal.”

She wasn't fond of any activity involving a scale . . . He cupped her biceps in both of his hands and guided her onto the flat piece of metal.

“Don't look,” she said, but she was too late.

Seconds later he said, “Got it. Come on.”

Tears of shame and frustration rose in her eyes. It wasn't bad enough that she'd gotten caught red-handed in the workout room after hours. He also knew how much she weighed! She knew she needed to lose weight, but she'd prefer to keep that number to herself.

Her face felt like it was on fire with embarrassment. He glanced over at her and said, “Don't worry about it.” He didn't seem to care about seeing the number that was going to haunt her.

“But I—”

“Next time, you'll know exactly how to program this,” he reassured her. He punched a few more buttons on the treadmill readout, clipped the emergency shut-off to her T-shirt, and directed her onto the treadmill. “Ready?”

“I don't want to bother you. Maybe I should go.”

“You're not bugging me. Come on. Do fifteen minutes with me,” he coaxed. “You can handle it.”

He hit the “Start” button, and he grabbed her around the waist so she wouldn't fall when the moving belt started. “Go ahead. Try it.”

Jillian felt his fingers sink into the softness. She glanced up at him. He didn't seem to be disgusted. She was horrified, however. He knew how much she weighed, and he'd touched her . . . Oh, God.

Jillian's feet started to move, and he let go. He stepped away from the treadmill, picked up the water bottle she'd brought in with her, and put it in the cup holder on the machine. He walked over, grabbed some free weights off the rack, and did butterflies while he watched.

“You're doing just fine.”

She appreciated his encouragement, but she really wasn't sure she wanted a workout buddy at the moment. Every little humiliation, every awkward moment she'd ever had as the girl nobody noticed rolled into the tall, dark-haired, handsome man standing only feet from her. He moved closer to the treadmill as he watched her. It would have been endearing if it wasn't slightly annoying.

The display read eight more minutes. She could accomplish this.

“I can do it myself,” she insisted as he edged closer while she glanced in his direction. It was like a kitten staring down a Great Dane. He didn't look worried. He actually looked like he was about to laugh.

“Sure you can. That's why you chose a workout DVD that I'd have a hard time with.”

“Maybe you should work out more, then,” she said.

He let out a snort. “Sassy, aren't you?”

He did a few more curls with the free weights as his mouth twitched with repressed laughter.

“Why, yes, I am.”

“So, when's the last time you went to the gym?”

“What do you think?” she said. She continued a little longer in silence. Seth set the weights back down on the rack and grabbed a set of lighter ones. He was still standing in front of the treadmill. He didn't seem to want to leave. She could only imagine how much he'd laugh at her if she told him she'd avoided the whole working-out thing since she was in college. “It wasn't a priority.” She stifled a sigh.

“How long have you worked here?”

She was studying the treadmill's readout. It took her a few seconds to answer him. “I don't get it.” She'd only burned two hundred calories or so. Maybe the readout was broken.

“Again, how long have you worked here? It seems pretty self-explanatory to me.”

She regarded him for a moment. “Two months.”

“I got here two weeks ago.”

“Uh-huh.” She pretended like she wasn't hanging on his every word. He was really cute, his body was even better, and it was all she could do to keep herself from drooling. Breathing was also a priority, and his nearness left her a bit breathless.

“Southern California's traffic sucks, but this may be worse. Is the 405 always a mess?”

He was referring to the freeway that most of the Sharks traveled to get to the practice facility. Jillian had to smile. He looked forlorn.

“Yes. It is. Don't you come here in the late morning, though?” she said.

“Not always. Sometimes I have to be here early because we have meetings. I can't believe the traffic.”

“If you carpool with someone, it's a faster trip. Isn't there anyone on the team who lives close to you?”

“I'm not sure. I moved into my house in Bellevue about a week ago. I'll have to ask around.” The treadmill shut off. He reached out to grab Jillian's elbow as she teetered. “Easy.”