Guarding the Quarterback (Champions of the Heart #1) (12 page)

Since the team hadn’t taken the field yet, I was indulging in a stadium bratwurst roll with the works.

“Hey, Reeves,” Ian called from behind me.

The sound of my last name took a moment to register in my brain. Funny how in just a few short months, I’d grown to prefer Alexa to Reeves.

I turned. “Yeah, boss?”

“I just talked to Walker. He’s going to play. By the way, he says you’re annoyingly professional.”

“That’s me.” Why had Dean gone out of his way to lie for me?

“I thought you should know that Billings is pulling the plug on Walker’s detail when the season’s over.”

“But what if we haven’t caught the person who wrote those letters?” The owner’s pretty speech about protecting his players was bullshit. His only concern was a championship. Yet, it was Dean’s only concern too, foolishly risking his health by playing today.
Men.

“I’m sure Walker can afford his own security, though I doubt he’ll continue since he didn’t want you in the first place.”

As if I needed a reminder. “Well, maybe if we were honest about the recent rash of letters, he might take this more seriously.”

“Reeves, we’ve been through this. And you’ve done a great job. I was going to wait to tell you, but I’m promoting you to a lead investigator.”

Was this Dean’s doing? Was this his way of getting me out of the bodyguard business? Or had my eight years of hard work finally paid off? Why wasn’t I more excited about the prospect? This was beyond what I’d hoped for. After seeing man after man hired after me move up the ladder, I’d be the first female at Ian’s Security to be a lead investigator.

“I’m heading up to Billings’ suite. We’ll talk more when this is over.”

Over? But I didn’t want this assignment to be over. Over meant Dean and I were over. Would Dean go back to his models and actresses? Would I go back to being Reeves? My stomach roiled. Maybe I was coming down with Dean’s plague. But I was in denial like him. I tossed the bratwurst in the garbage.

I couldn’t worry about the future now. I had a job to do.

*

If I had
been sitting, I’d be on the edge of my seat, but instead I was standing on it so I could see over everyone else who was standing as the clock ticked down. Some of the players’ wives held hands, and others clasped their hands as if they were praying. The crowd noise was deafening. Down by five, the Kings needed a touchdown, and at the ten-yard line with fifteen seconds left to play, the Kings were poised to take the lead for the win.

I looked away. One part of me couldn’t watch, knowing how important a victory was to Dean, while another part of me knew I should be scanning the stadium for threats. Should be. I returned my gaze to the field. He took the snap and the clock ticked down to fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven…

And then he threw a bullet to his receiver in the end zone, who at first bobbled the catch, and then drew it to his body for the score.

The fans roared, bouncing up and down like eighty thousand pogo sticks. My happiness for Dean was short-lived as fans started to hop over the fencing. My training kicked in. On autopilot I jumped from the seat and sprinted down the steps to the fence.

A cop grabbed me as I hit the sideline and I flipped my VIP pass.
Wrong girl, buddy.
Hopefully, they were as diligent with everyone else, but with the media and fans swarming the field, control would be impossible.

Blood pounded in my veins and I gulped in air like I raced a marathon. Panic threatened to take over the training. This was when it would happen. I knew it in my bones.

Where the fuck were Oslo and Williams?

A crowd surrounded Dean as Samantha Jameson interviewed the star of the game. I darted over and took stock. From the other side of the mob, I spotted a Stars cheerleader. That was odd. Why would a Stars cheerleader try to congratulate the Kings’ quarterback? Then recognition lit my brain. The girl from the bar, dressed like the opponent’s cheerleaders. Hell, maybe she was.

“Purple Rain is approaching. Stars cheerleader.” Only static crackled from my earpiece.

Damn it to hell! My fingers itched for my gun, but with so many people milling about, it would be reckless to draw. All I could do was throw myself at Dean and hope the crazed cheerleader didn’t have a gun and take a head shot. But I had to get to him first. Using my height to my advantage, I snaked my way through the crowd, my heart pounding in fear that I wouldn’t get to Dean in time. That I would lose him.

And I’d never told him that I’d fallen in love with him. He’d think I saved him because it was my job, but it was so much more than that. This was personal. This was real. This was love.

As I reached within a foot of Dean, he looked up. Our gazes locked, and I knew I had to tell him, just in case… in case…

I leapt into his arms. “I love you, Dean.”

Dean

I
caught Alexa
as she hit me with the full force of her body, like she was channeling a three-hundred-pound defensive tackle. Alexa loved me? Something was wrong. The cool professional bodyguard wouldn’t jump into my arms with declarations of love in front of stadium full of people unless…

Fuck.
I looked up just as Alexa shouted in my ear to get down. Like a scene out of a B-movie horror flick, a cheerleader with a crazed look in her eyes and raised a knife, lunged at us. Us? A downward thrust would surely hit Alexa.

Still in the zone from dodging linebackers all day, my reflexes didn’t fail me this time. I turned my body and dropped to the ground with Alexa in my arms, landing hard on top of her. She grunted her displeasure. My body covered every inch of her precious yet foolish self.

“Motherfucker,” I heard Oslo yell from behind me. “It’s clear. I got the bitch.”

To be safe, I kept Alexa protected even as she struggled beneath me. I lifted my head to see the screaming crowd disperse as a dozen cops swarmed in to take control of the scene. Jameson, the star reporter who’d been in tougher situations than this, refused to budge, asking her cameraman if he got it all. Despite the chaos in this corner of the field, the celebration was in full swing.

“Get off of me,” Alexa yelled. Wiggling, she sputtered, “Oh, God. Now I know what it feels like to be tackled.”

She was joking about this? What if the psycho cheerleader had had a gun? What if she’d thrown the knife? Alexa could’ve been killed. I could have lost her. Fury rose in my blood. How dare she take a chance like that?

Lifting myself off, I grabbed her shoulders and shook, hoping some sense would rattle loose in that stubborn brain of hers. “You little fool. Don’t ever do that again.”

“It’s my job.” She struggled to a sitting position.

“To die for me?”

“Yes.”

“If you had died, then she might as well have killed me too, Alexa.”

She winced and dropped her gaze.

Realizing how tight my hold was, I loosened my grip. “What good would living be without you? I may be just a job to you, but you’re more than my bodyguard.”

She was shaking on her own with no help for me.

I lifted her chin. Tears streamed down her face.
Aww, fuck.
I hadn’t meant to make her cry. “I love you, Alexa. If something happens to you, it happens to me.”

“That’s just the adrenaline talking.”

Maybe it was. I sounded like a babbling love-struck fool. “Is that why you said you loved me?”

“I… I was trying to get your attention.” She wiped her tears away and looked nervously around like she was embarrassed.

“Little liar.”

“Hey, don’t worry about me. Just a scratch,” Oslo said. The police handcuffed the stalker.

“I love you, Dean,” the cheerleader screamed as she was hauled away. Yeah, she gave a whole new meaning to
love you to death
. I had no idea who she was or why she would want me dead.

Once she was out of sight I stood, offering my hand to Alexa. Ignoring it, she sprang up on her own to attend to Oslo’s injury.

“It’s just a scratch,” she agreed.

“But… but, I’m going to need stitches,” pouted Oslo. I laughed at the big and tough bodyguard’s expression.

“Butterfly ones,” Alexa said as if her coworker had only received a paper cut instead of a deep slice to the skin.

“I would shake your hand, but…” I nodded to the slash that needed more than butterfly stitches. “Thanks, bro.”

“Whoa! You thank him and I get yelled at?” Alexa’s voice rose.

Samantha stuck a microphone between us. “Walker, why was the Stars cheerleader trying to kill you?”

Both Alexa and I turned our heads. I was going to tell Samantha to fuck off. What Alexa would have said to the reporter remained a mystery as Ryan Terell—the retired tight end for the Cougars and current sports analyst for the network—pulled his wife away. “Jesus, Samantha, trouble follows you everywhere.”

“I have a nose for news. And I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

“I can see that. Now leave them alone.”

“It’s my job,” Samantha told her husband.

Where had I heard that before? Alexa crossed her arms and gave me a smug look as Samantha stuck the microphone back in my face.

“Not now,” I said.

“Walker promises you an exclusive.” Terell looked from his wife to me, nodding his head. “Don’t you, Walker?”

“Absolutely.” I’d agree to anything to make this all go away for now. I should be celebrating with my teammates. And then there was Alexa, who was not acting like the adoring girlfriend I had hoped she would be now that my stalker had been caught.

Carlos pushed his way through. “What are you doing? They’re ready to present the divisional trophy. You’re the MVP.”

It seemed like more than half the stadium, including my agent, had no idea what had just happened. The police officer in charge said, “Go ahead. You can answer questions later.”

Still I hesitated to leave Alexa. I squeezed her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am. Go.”

“We’ll figured out everything later,” I called over my shoulder.

As I accepted the trophy, so many emotions whirled inside me that I had to choke back tears. Elation and pride from this win, sadness that my father wasn’t there to share it with me, happiness that I knew my mom was watching it on television, and the remnants of panic and fear of Alexa risking her life for me. I was now determined to win it all, the big game and my only love.

I was one step away from my dream of a Super Bowl Championship, but it wouldn’t be the same without Alexa to share it with me. Somehow I had to convince her that I needed her more than Ian’s Security did. Convince her that I needed her more than my own life.

Alexa

I
smiled at
Dean as he came out of the players exit, but his expression was anything but happy.

“I’m driving.”

“Okayyyyy.” I tossed him the keys and got in on the passenger side, dumbfounded at his attitude. After weeks of me driving him around, I was sure he couldn’t wait to get behind the wheel again. That didn’t explain the tightness in his jaw or the short, clipped way he’d spoken to me.

Why was he acting like I had offended him—
no
, like I’d hurt him?

Knowing he could easily catch a ride home, I had thoughts of deserting him at the stadium. I was afraid of the awkward conversation once he realized that it was the adrenaline talking. When he realized he didn’t love me. I feared we were about to have that conversation.

I’d liked to say that I was brave, but the truth was I’d rather face a physical confrontation than an emotional one. While Dean had been celebrating on the field, answering football questions in the locker room, and then giving the police his official statement, I’d been privy to the initial questioning of the crazy cheerleader, Brandi Dobbs. And something nagged in the back of my mind.

She’d confessed to trying to hurt Dean and even leaving me the flowers as a warning to back off, but she’d denied writing the threatening letters. Of course, this could be a way of avoiding a premeditated murder count making it easier for her to claim insanity.

But if she was telling the truth then Dean was still in danger.

And that’s why I didn’t run.

I knew I was over-thinking it, worse, making an excuse to stay close to Dean. More than halfway into the ride, I couldn’t take the quiet, so I engaged in conversation with something safe. “You had a great game.”

Silence.

“Okay, what’s up?”

He put on the blinker and made a turn. “We’ll talk about it when we get home.”

Home.
Funny, how I’d come to think of his apartment that way. We’d never spoken about what would happen after my assignment ended. Going back to my little apartment would be lonely, though I’d never thought of myself as being so. I had my work. I had Joffrey. I had my family. It had always been enough. Until I fell in love with Dean.

But right now he seemed down right mad at me. Why?
Crap.
He must have found out. “Is this about the other letters.”

“Damn right it is,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

I knew my silence on the matter would come back to bite me. “Our collective bosses decided against informing you.”