Playing for Keeps (5 page)

“You’re killing me, you know.”

He paused while the hostess delivered a plate of orange slices, then watched in apparent fascination as Erica picked up a knife and pared several thin strips of peel into a small plastic pill box she kept in her briefcase.

“Nothing to see here,” she told him. “Please try the beer?”

He picked up the glass and sniffed the contents as though fearing the worst. “Interesting. Barley, right? With a hint of dung?”

“Just drink it.”

He grinned, took a swig, and sat back, nodding slowly. “Not bad.”

“It’s tasty and you know it.”

“The beer is good.
You’re
tasty.” He reached for her hand again. “We’ll be discreet, I promise. Caldwell and the asshole and the mentor guy will never know.”

“But
I’ll
know. It’s completely unprofessional. We don’t date clients and we don’t date the talent. That’s you.”

He pursed his lips, as though analyzing her play. Then he arched a triumphant eyebrow. “But once we shoot the commercial, my part is done. I’m not the talent anymore, right? So get them to shoot it right away, then we’ll have some fun.”

She knew he was half joking. He had his own career to worry about, didn’t he? The playoffs were less than two months away, and even though the Lancers were considered a lock, it was because of hard work, probably six days a week at least.

But the idea of seeing him again sounded tempting. “I’m pretty sure you’re the talent until the ad actually airs. But I guess, if you’re still interested
after
the Super Bowl, it might work.”

To her surprise, he winced. “That’s a little late for me.”

“Oh, are you going somewhere? To recuperate? So maybe when you get back—”

“It’s not that. I’ve got a blind date after the Super Bowl, and it’s bizarrely important. But so are you. So if you and me are gonna get together, we’ve got to do it before then.”

Her head was spinning. “You want to date me? But you already know you’ll need to dump me right away because of some girl you haven’t even met?”

“When you put it that way, it sounds nuts.” He sobered. “It’s a family thing. I’d explain it, but it would scare you off.”

“Say no more,” she said, trying for a sophisticated tone even though she was completely lost. “My family makes me crazy too. So I get it.”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “My father wants me to settle down. So does my sister-in-law, and she’s more or less in charge. And very scary. Apparently I’m not moving fast enough to suit them, so they’re setting me up with one of her friends. And to be fair, the friend sounds nice. So I promised I’d give it a shot.”

Erica sighed. He sounded almost wistful, as though he secretly agreed with Coach Spurling and the sister-in-law. He was ready to settle down, have children. He just needed this benevolent push.

“When it comes to my career, they’re my biggest fans,” he added quickly. “But my lifestyle? Not so much.”

“Well, at least they support your career.
My
family’s convinced I don’t have the backbone to make it in a cutthroat world—” She stopped herself and flushed. “The good news is, you tasted the beer and you’re still breathing. Let’s go upstairs and tell KC.”

He slid out of his seat, but only so he could join her on her side of the booth. Then he moved in close, just like before, sending waves of panic and anticipation through her body.

“We’d have fun, Erica. And it’s good timing, right? Your career is just taking off, and you’ve got a lot to prove, so you’re not looking for anything serious. And I just want to spend time with you. You’re already driving me crazy,” he added, turning her face toward his with his warm, rough hand.

She gulped. “Maybe I was wrong about your nickname. You’re definitely a player.”

“That’s a compliment, right? Because you’re feeling it too?” His voice softened. “We’re already amazing together. And so far, you’ve only been naked in the distance. Imagine what will happen . . .” He leaned into her, his breath hot on her neck.

“We’ll shoot the commercial first,” she blurted out, pushing him away, stoked by the contact. “Then we’ll see.”

“I agree. No dating the talent. So we need to get the shoot scheduled pronto.”

Her chest was so tight with excitement she could barely breathe. If he would just move back to his side, she might be able to think. Even though she was now certain he was right. This was
perfect
timing. She didn’t want a serious relationship. She needed to concentrate on her career if only to disprove her mother’s predictions that she couldn’t cut it as a professional. Whereas Johnny wanted to get married to some nice blind date who was ready to settle down and have adorable little Spurlings with him.

And she lived in New York. Johnny lived in Portland. No future there either.

But for a short, hot affair?

Licking her lips, she started to give him the good news, but saw he was frowning slightly.

Now what?

“Second thoughts?” she asked, trying for a light tone. “About the beer? Or me?”

“I was just thinking. I know we’ll make it to the playoffs. That’s practically a lock. And I feel good about our chances for going all the way. But shit happens. Injuries, weather, bad juju. Then what? If I’m not in the Super Bowl, will Lager Storm bail on us?”

“You’re a star whether you make it this year or not.” She touched his jaw. “It’s not football that makes you great. That’s just one part of the package.”

“But it would be better if I made it?”

She smiled. “Of course, but it works either way.”

“Good.” He flashed a cocky smile. “Especially because it’s gonna happen. We’re practically unbeatable these days.”

“Thanks to the Triple Threat?” she asked, using the term the media had coined for the power triumvirate of the Lancers quarterback, their kicker, and a halfback named Bannerman.

“Yeah,” he said, clearly impressed. “The Triple Threat plus an awesome D. Like I said, unbeatable.”

She tried to move a few inches away but he followed closely, so she decided to just relax and enjoy the vibe. “I understand about your kicker. Sean Decker, right? He never seems to miss.”

“That’s because he
doesn’t
miss. He’s already threatening league records and we’re only halfway through the season. The guy’s a machine.”

“But Vince Bannerman is just a halfback. How can
he
make such a difference?”

Johnny eyed her sternly. “Have you watched him? He’s an animal. Everywhere at once. I can hand it off to him or pass it and know he’ll never fumble. And he’s the best athlete on the team, so once he’s got it, he makes tracks. And when he doesn’t have the ball, he has my back. Crushes anyone who’s stupid enough to try and sack me, and clears a path for me if I need to run it myself. Watch him,” he repeated reverently. “You’ll see.”

“So Decker’s a machine. Bannerman’s an animal. And you’re a player. Got it.”

“Don’t flirt with the talent,” he warned, nuzzling her neck again. “Unless you mean business.”

A hot buzz ran through her core, and before she realized what was happening her hand moved behind his neck, her fingers lacing in his hair as she protested breathlessly, “We can’t.”

“Keep it up and I won’t be able to throw straight.”

She laughed and pushed him away, this time with more conviction. “Let’s go sign contracts, then.”

“Will you wear the raincoat on our first date?”

“We’ll see.”

“With nothing under it?”

“That’s enough.” She stared into his hungry eyes for a few delicious seconds, then waved him out of the booth. “Let’s get moving. Before KC sends out a search party.”

• • •

They held hands in the elevator, which made her feel ridiculously special. If he had tried to kiss her, she would have been insulted. Turned on, maybe, but still insulted. But he had such an easygoing style, and she knew why. If Erica turned him down he’d find someone else. And he’d treat that woman with respect too. Because that was his way. He succeeded on merit, on talent. Did it help to be a Spurling? Sure. Did it help to be an NFL quarterback? Absolutely.

But he would thrive under any circumstances. Because he was a “player” in the best sense of the word.

When they reached his agent’s suite, she touched his shoulder and reminded him, “We’re going to keep this under the radar, right? You and me, I mean. Not that there’s a you and me—”

“There’s definitely a you and me. But we’ll keep it quiet for sure.”

“And no funny business until after the commercial’s been shot?”

His smile softened. “Yeah. And even then, I just want to hang out with you. Have fun. I was kidding about the raincoat thing, you know. I mean . . .” He cleared his throat. “It would be awesome. But we’ll start with dinner and drinks. Maybe a walk on the beach. And then see what happens. Okay?”

She had no idea what “the raincoat thing” was but was still glad it was off the table. Sex with coats held no appeal for her. Some Portland kink? Because of all the rain? But she was a Midwesterner and didn’t really do kink. She preferred old-school nakedness.

“We’ll go out to dinner after the shoot,” she agreed, moving close to him, but only for a second, and only because he was a freaking magnet.

He caught her chin in his hand, smiled down at her with such anticipation it melted her stockings, then he raised his knuckles and rapped cheerfully on the door.

Chapter 3

The first thing she noticed was the way Johnny took control of the room.
He
was in charge. Not KC. Not Patrick “Murf” Murphy. They were members of the team, but the quarterback was the leader, joking while scanning the draft memorandum of understanding, nixing certain provisions while adding others, and protecting Erica’s creative role without a hint as to their dating future.

“We need complete confidentiality,” Frank told him at one point. “The whole idea behind Super Bowl ads is the wow factor. So you can’t tell anyone you’ll be featured in an ad. And you definitely can’t tell them you’re a spokesman for Lager Storm. Not until after the game.”

Johnny gave him a dismissive shrug. “I need to tell my coach, obviously. And if he and Murf need to inform the league, that’ll happen too. And my family needs a heads-up since this is a Spurling first.”

“That’s unacceptable,” Frank retorted. “Murf? Explain things to your client.”

Murf grinned. “If it were up to me, he wouldn’t be doing it at all. He makes a gazillion bucks an hour as it is. So it’s his way or the highway, my friend.”

Frank spun toward Erica. “He’s obviously into you. So feel free to jump in.”

“What the fuck does
that
mean?” Johnny demanded. “Erica’s been completely professional. Which is more than I can say for you.” To KC, he added coolly, “Do we really need this guy? I get it that he set things up. But now that we have a deal, I want him gone.”

KC didn’t miss a beat. “We’re all grateful to Frank for arranging this meeting. But at this point, Steve and Erica can handle it alone. So what do you say, Frank?” he asked, a blank expression on his face that barely masked the anger in his eyes. “Shall you and I head to the airport early? We have that tech account to discuss, so the timing’s perfect.” Without waiting for a response, he stuck his hand out to Johnny. “The client will be delighted, and so am I. Thanks for putting your trust in us.”

“My pleasure,” Johnny assured him.

“Actually,” Steve Adler interrupted, “I think we’re
all
done here. Legal needs to review the language before we fax the actual contracts. And we’ll need to work out a schedule that doesn’t affect Johnny’s practices. But otherwise . . .” He gave them all a reassuring smile. “We’ve got a deal. Thanks, everyone. Especially you, Erica.”

“Yeah,” Murf murmured. “You did the impossible today, Ms. McCall. Congratulations.”

She moistened her lips, surprised but also pleased by the formal acknowledgment. “I’m thrilled. And so grateful to you both. The client wants Lager Storm to be a household name, and with Johnny Spurling on board, I’m confident this campaign can accomplish that.”

• • •

When Erica and her party had left, Johnny stared at the door, still charmed by her. Classy but with a hint of rowdiness. His kind of woman.

“So?” Murf demanded. “You two were gone for a while.”

“Huh?” Johnny turned, saw the look on his agent’s face, and scowled. “We were in the bar. Drinking beer. What the hell?”

Murf shrugged. “She’s good-looking. And hungry for a deal. And
you
talked about one last fling. Do the math.”

“You thought I was off somewhere nailing her? I left that kind of crazy behind in college, mostly on
your
advice.”

“And because your dad would strangle you,” Murf reminded him. “So? Are you going to see her again?”

He winced. “She’ll be there when we’re shooting the commercial—”

“You know what I mean.” Murf stepped closer, his mood grim. “I’m not a huge fan of Frank Garr but he took me aside and offered me some advice. He says she’s got a history. Pretends to be one of the guys, then gets all worked up when she thinks someone’s hitting on her, even if it’s actually innocent. And then she hurls accusations. It can hurt a guy’s reputation, so just be careful around her.”

Johnny struggled to control his temper. “One minute you’re calling him an asshole. Now we’re taking advice from him?”

Murf shrugged again. “He works with her.”

“He competed with her for this account. She told me so herself.” Forcing himself to relax, he added quietly, “She’s nice, Murf. Really sweet. And trust me, she’s not playing games. I kept asking her out, she kept turning me down. Because this account matters to her and she doesn’t want to blow it.”

Murf seemed to consider this, then he too relaxed. “She’s got style. And they’re letting her handle a Super Bowl account, which means she either slept her way into it or she’s got mega talent. Either way, you’re probably right. He’s just jealous.”

“She didn’t sleep her way into anything. Just drop it, will you?”