Line of Scrimmage (19 page)

One corner of her mouth twitched as she tried to hide a grin. “Just aware of your ulterior motives.”

“Maybe they wouldn’t be so ulterior if you would just remember how hot we are together and give us another chance.”

“There’s a Mustangs game on tonight,” she told him. “How about watching that with me?”

Just like that, his rare good mood vanished. “Way to kill a nice buzz,” he snapped.

“Are you planning to boycott them forever?” she asked.

“When I’m back in the harness, I’ll have plenty of time to watch game films.”

“Not the same thing,” she pointed out.

“Don’t care. Just forget it.” He pushed back from the table. Obviously, though, she was through letting him just lie in bed, feeling sorry for himself. He had to admit she nagged almost as well as Ivy did.

“Let’s do my toes. I can hardly wait.”

“You know you’ve been a real bear the last few days,” she told him as she rose from her own chair. “I was beginning to miss that side of your charming personality.”

At this particular moment, he was in no mood for her snarkiness. The frustration of his situation like a sore spot that he kept pushing at, as if to remind himself exactly how rotten this whole thing was.

“I suppose,” she went on, “this means you still don’t want to take any phone calls?”

“There’s no one I want to talk to,” he insisted. “I’m not in the mood to handle that stuff myself. You agreed to do it, so do it.”

When they were finished with his toes, and Erin went to clean up after breakfast, he clumped his way to the den where he fired up his laptop. No one ever entered this room except him. He made his way into the room early enough to put away all the things he didn’t share with others. Personal mementos that had little to do with the game or his career. Things that reminded him of very intimate parts of his life. It took him a while, but when he finally collapsed back into the desk chair, the only visible signs of his life and career were a few framed photos that had been published everywhere.

Seated at his desk, he decided to check out the Coyotes Facebook page. For kicks, he got an account of his own, something he had resisted until now. Despite what some would call a flamboyant lifestyle, with a string of Eye Candy Mandys, he didn’t flaunt himself the way a lot of the other guys did.

“Nice picture.”

He looked up and realized Erin had walked into the room.

She’d spotted the photo of the state champion Granite Falls Coyotes team, the one where they’d hoisted the big trophy, front and center on his desk.

“You know what it is? Oh, of course you do. What else would it be?”

“I did a search for them the other night,” she told him.

“You did? How come?” That was interesting. According to everything she said and did, she had zero interest in him. Zip.

She shrugged. “How could I not? I have the usual dose of human curiosity. You guys were apparently the talk of the state for a long time. Not just for winning but for the community service work you did and for how tight you were together.”

He managed a smile. That was true, every bit of it. “Yeah, we were like family. It was great.”

“So how come you haven’t kept in touch with them since then?” she persisted.

He shrugged. “We all went in different directions after graduation. Then we all got busy with whatever we were doing.”

“So, are you checking Coyotes Win on Facebook now?”

He nodded. “Shay Reilly did a very good job setting it up,” he noted.

“She did,” Erin agreed. “I see she’s got head shots of all the players from the yearbook and current ones for some of you guys. And bios when she was able to get them. Some of you still play in the NFL, some others are retired for a variety of reasons. And then there are those who never played after college.”

“Uh-huh.” He studied the shots.

She moved into the room. “You know Joe Reilly does a show on Fox Sports.”

“Mm-hmm.” He was well aware of Joe’s program,
Inside the Helmet.

“Rafe Ortiz works security for the owners of the stadium,” she continued. “Hank Beckham is an engineer.”

He thought about sending Shay a message to ask where he could send stuff about himself, but since he had no idea where he’d be after this season, he decided to wait.

Quit feeling so sorry for yourself.

But it was damn hard. Without football, he really didn’t know who he was.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. I have some things to take care of.”

He was still engrossed when she called him for lunch. He said little, and Erin, sensing he was in no mood for conversation, left him to his silence. His meeting with Lynne Corday was that afternoon and he wanted to prepare for it. He crutched back into the den, realizing he was actually getting much better on the clumsy things. The physical therapist had told him to practice with them daily so they became easier to use. Still, every time he propped them under his arms he cursed the circumstance that made them necessary.

He wanted to see today’s visitor in the den, though. Other than his bedroom, it was really the only room in the house that gave him the situation he wanted. Needed. He could close the door and their conversation could be completely private.

He leaned back in the big upholstered chair, his foot propped on an ottoman, crutches leaning next to the desk at the ready, and forced himself to relax.

“Knock, knock.”

He looked up to see Erin in the doorway, holding a large tray.

“I thought you might like to serve something to your guest,” she told him. “I ran to the bakery for some special cookies and fixed a pitcher of iced tea. Is it okay to set it on this little table?”

“Sure. Thanks for this.” He watched her place the tray and rearrange the plates and glasses. “You do good work. Maybe I could hire you full time.”

There was more truth than poetry in his words. With each passing day, he realized how important she was becoming to him. It went way beyond the sex. Somehow he had to make this work between them, because he wanted her in his life and for more than just sex.

“To be your personal caretaker? Ha!” She made a face. “We both know how well that would work out. Well, if you’re all set, I’ll just hang out in the kitchen until your guest gets here and I can let her in.”

“And what do you plan to be doing in the kitchen?”

She shrugged. “Working at my laptop.”

“How’s the hunt for job openings going?” He asked the question casually but he damn well didn’t want her finding something.

“Still nothing. But I’m eternally optimistic.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Just out of curiosity, what will you do if you find one before your obligation here is up?”

“I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. But even if I find something, the process takes forever, so I don’t think you’ll need to be placing a classified ad just yet. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

He studied her for a long moment. God, she was so prickly. So edgy. So independent. And so damn sexy. She was everything he wanted in a woman, and he’d managed to make himself into something that was the total opposite of what she wanted.

She looked so appealing standing there in her slacks that fit her butt and her hips so well and the short-sleeved sweater that draped over breasts that made his mouth water. Her soft, plump lips were slicked with a pale lip gloss. Other than that, she wore no makeup. God knew she didn’t need it.

The other night she’d been into it as much as he was. No way could she fake her responses. But the damn cast had been a mood killer, and since then she’d acted as if nothing happened. Still, the heat never stopped simmering in her eyes. Oh, yeah, she still wanted him, no matter how much she tried to deny it, just as much as he wanted her. He sure didn’t plan to make love to her only in dreams, especially since she’d admitted she’d had dreams, too.

“Jake?”

She stood there, waiting expectantly for an answer, so he gave himself a mental shake.

“No, nothing else. Thanks for this.”

“All right then. I’ll show your guest in when she arrives. Enjoy your afternoon.”

She obviously wasn’t about to hang around and make idle conversation with him.

Lynne Corday arrived promptly at three thirty. Erin showed her in, nodded at him, and closed the door.

“Nice companion,” she teased him. “Although I have to say she doesn’t seem quite your type. Or the type to be a housekeeper.”

Jake ground his teeth. “She’s not.”

“Oh?” Lynne lifted an eyebrow. “That sounds interesting. Is there a story behind this?”

“I needed some help here until I can manage by myself, the team wanted someone who was a buffer between me and the public, and my sister is trying to play matchmaker and pissing both of us off. And, well, she needed a job.”

Lynne chuckled. “From my few conversations with her, I’d say she’d have no trouble getting one.”

“She wants to stay in training and spa work. It’s what her degree is in, and there doesn’t appear to be any openings around here at the moment. Anyway, I’d rather not discuss Erin Bass, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Of course.” She looked at the tray Erin had left. “If these are for me, you get high marks. I love the cookies from Take the Cake.”

“Help yourself, please.”

She poured iced tea for both of them, helped herself to a cookie, then opened her briefcase.

“The reason I asked for this meeting is I have the estimates on the renovations and addition you asked for.” She took another quick bite of cookie before pulling out a folder and handing it to him. She took out a similar one for herself. “I’d like to go over the figures for you and get a feel for what you want to do and when you want to proceed.”

“This is all just between you and me, right?” he asked. “Not even anyone on the staff knows?”

“Yes. Just the two of us.” She lifted a shoulder. “But it still puzzles me why you are so determined to be completely anonymous. What you’re doing—have done—is so wonderful. You’ve helped so many people. Why don’t you want people to know about it?”

“For the same reason you don’t publicize the house itself. To protect the safety of the women and kids who come to you there. They don’t deserve to have their privacy invaded.”

“I agree.” She nodded. “But at least let us recognize you within the organization. I mean, for goodness sake, you spend time there during the off-season with the kids when I know you must have other things to do. And I can’t count the number of boys you’ve coached on the mini football field you had built for us.”

“Just leave it be, okay? It’s my choice. Let’s go over these estimates and drawings.”

By the time they’d gone through everything in the folder and debated the items on the list, making adjustments as they went, they’d finished the tea and the cookies were gone. And Lynne Corday wore a pleased smile on her face.

“So you’ll get the new contracts drawn up and bring them by?” he asked. “And get me the start date. The earlier the better.”

“I’ll try to have them by the end of the week.”

“Good deal.”

She put everything back in her briefcase and snapped it shut. “As usual, you’re outdoing yourself. I can’t tell you how thankful we are.”

“The results are worth it,” he told her.

“Well, the addition will give us more suites for families and both play and classroom areas for the kids. You know how grateful we all were when you bought that property four years ago and built the new facility for us. This is way beyond what we ever imagined. We certainly could never have done it without a lot of help.”

Jake leaned back in his chair, shaking the remnants of the ice cubes in his glass.

“It beats having a public fundraiser for it. Like you said, anonymity is so important for the mothers and children who come to us. And it helps us ensure their safety, too. But it’s quite a financial obligation for you.”

He gave a short laugh. “What else would I do with my money? Between my contract with the Mustangs and my endorsements, I certainly have more than I can ever use. And this is something I feel passionate about.”

Her features softened. “I know it is. And it’s personal for you as well. While people give back to us when and how they can, you should know that we don’t often get a response of this magnitude.” Her lips curved in a smile. “Of course, not all of them achieve the success you have.”

He lifted one hand, let it fall back to the desk. “It’s what I want to do. Let’s leave it at that.”

She sighed. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”

“I do. I’ll have my accountant transfer money to the Good Shepard account so you can write out a check for the deposit.”

She studied him for a moment. “Doesn’t he ever say anything about all this money?”

Jake laughed. “He gets paid a lot of money to keep me honest and not ask questions. Period.”

“How’s the leg coming?” she asked.

Jake grimaced. “Don’t ask.”

“Any word on when you’ll be able to get the cast off?”

“I wish.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I did get the soft cast off my wrist, though, and I’m doing therapy for the ligaments and the hand. I have another doctor’s appointment next week. I’m hoping when they take their x-rays they might move me up to a walking cast.”

“Don’t rush it,” she cautioned him. “That’s the worst thing you can do. Let it heal properly.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone says.” He made a sound of disgust. “But none of you are sitting here watching who they are go down the drain.”

“Jake.” She leaned forward in her chair. “You are so very much more than a running back for the Austin Mustangs. So very much more. You’re a very smart man who is also filled with compassion and blessed with a big heart. And more.”

“Except if I weren’t out there making the big plays no one would care. Admit it, Lynne.”

“Maybe some people,” she agreed. “But you find that in any industry. Besides, you have a very sharp mind and a college degree that backs it up. You could put both of those to use doing a lot of different things. The world would be wide open to you.”

“I’ll bet those kids at Good Shepard wouldn’t be quite so wide-eyed and eager to see me come around without the headlines and fame.”