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Authors: Tracy Solheim

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Her insides were definitely taking notice now, but not in the same way. The anger and hurt that he’d left with her more than a decade ago roared up her spine, practically jerking her shoulders back and her chin up. “That naïve starry-eyed girl you left at an Italian airport doesn’t exist anymore. I won’t have a problem
handling this case. Or my interactions with you.” She didn’t need to worry about any lingering attraction for this man. His arrogance had seen to that. Bridgett was relieved to be over him. As long as she ignored the small part of her that was weeping right now.

•   •   •

Jay almost believed her. The key word being
almost
. After years apart, they had inadvertently been thrown together
when he’d bought the team her brother played for. She’d been to games, including the Super Bowl, but on every occasion had avoided him like the plague. He’d
watch her as she cheered Brody on, safe in the bosom of the large, boisterous Janik family, all the while maintaining her distance, keeping that poised, polished smile solidly on her face as if they’d never been acquainted, much less lovers.

Bridgett was wearing that cool look now. The one that screamed she was untouchable, but made him want to touch her.
Thoroughly.
To familiarize himself again with the soft planes of her body. She was still petite, her frame a little thinner—more brittle—than it had been that summer, when her curves had been filled out with good food and even better wine. Her blond hair no longer hung free down
her back, yet his fingers itched to twine through it anyway. Jay couldn’t complain about how she wore it now, though. The sleek style only enhanced the classic beauty of her pert chin and gray eyes—eyes that looked like sterling silver when framed by her long, dark lashes. She’d dressed in her uniform of a hip-hugging pencil skirt and a silk blouse that hardly compared to the peekaboo tank tops
and shorts she’d favored years ago, yet still the outfit made her look sexy as hell.

“Perhaps it’s you who has the problem,” she was saying, and Jay suddenly wished her lips were doing something a lot more fun than talking. “If that’s the situation, you shouldn’t have asked Stuart to put me on the case.”

“I didn’t.”

The truth stung her. He watched—not quite as satisfied as he ought
to be—as she flinched slightly at his words. Her reaction was telling. She’d thought he had wanted to work with her. The knowledge spurred him on.

“It was Stuart’s suggestion.” He took a step toward her and she countered with a step back. He took another step and she was suddenly pressed up against the conference table. “I didn’t think you’d want me to tell your boss all the reasons that was
the mother of bad ideas.” He closed the gap between them, his hips practically pinning her in place.

“Wow, chivalry and the word
please
. This is certainly a red-letter day.” She jerked her chin up. “Get to the point, Jay. I have to get back to the office.”

Jay had to admire her backbone. The sweet girl he once
loved never would have stood up to him like this. She was the champion of the
little guy and she wouldn’t have appreciated—or put up with—his bullying. But she’d changed. She’d become more like him. The thought both saddened him and aroused him at the same time. Glancing down, he had a bird’s-eye view down her silk blouse, and he saw he wasn’t the only one aroused.

Maybe it was this tactic that was the mother of bad ideas. But he had to find out. If she was in fact
over him, he’d bury his own lust deep inside and let her take the helm defending him against these ridiculous charges. Stuart was right; it was a brilliant move that made the most sense. But if she reacted to him, he was counting on her turning tail and running. It was what she did, after all. He’d find another lawyer and beat the trumped-up charges, because losing was not what Jay McManus did.

Reaching up, he traced his thumb along the tender skin beneath her jaw. “I’m just wondering why you didn’t immediately recuse yourself, Bridgett.”

She shivered beneath his touch but her voice was steady. “Why bother? There’s nothing between us any longer. I can certainly defend my brother’s team against the baseless allegations.”

“It’s not your brother’s team. It’s my team. Your brother
works for me.”

“How naïve I must have been not to notice the arrogant autocrat that lurked beneath your shiny surface.”

His thumb moved over her full bottom lip. “That’s because you were too busy putting your hands and mouth all over my shiny surface.”

Anger flashed in those gorgeous eyes of hers as a soft flush spread over her cheeks. “My hands—not to mention the rest of me—have learned
self-control.”

“Have they?” His mouth drifted lower and he swore he could taste her.

“Don’t even think about kissing me,” she hissed as her fisted hands made contact with his chest.

“Babe, I’ve done nothing but think about kissing you ever
since I saw you again,” he admitted before his brain could stop the words from escaping.

“Well, I haven’t.” She gave his chest a shove, but
her pulse had ratcheted up beneath his thumb, and her hips arched toward his. Jay was having difficulty keeping his body in check and his head spun as he inhaled the familiar scent of her. He needed to rethink his strategy here, but his brain didn’t seem to be in control any longer. His lips replaced his thumb along her jaw and he finally—
finally
—tasted her. That and the sound of her sighing his
name were his undoing. Jay had to know if she still had any power over him. Or if he could let her go again.

His lips found hers and for the first time in years, Jay’s brain shut down. All he could think about was sinking deeper into Bridgett and letting her warm, silky mouth wash over him. A soft moan rose from her chest just as her lips parted, and Jay wasted no time. Dragging one hand through
her hair, he shifted her head to give himself greater access to her mouth, plundering deeply with his tongue, groaning when her own swept against it. His other hand wrapped around her sweet ass, pulling her in against the part of his body that was suddenly doing all the negotiating.

Even more surprising, she was kissing him back. Bridgett released her fingers from their fists and slid them
up his chest and over his shoulders as her hips rolled against his restlessly. Jay had his answer. He needed to end this little experiment before it got out of hand. And he would. In a minute. After he savored her mouth a little longer. A soft keening sound escaped the back of her throat and something snapped inside Jay. He kissed her as if he still had the right to, delving into her mouth and taking
what was no longer his.

He nudged her back against the conference table with every intention of taking her there. Fortunately, Bridgett was right about learning a little self-control over the years. With a sudden ferocity, she broke their kiss. They both stood there a moment, avoiding each other’s eyes as they tried to tamp down their heavy breathing. This time he took a gentlemanly step back
when she pushed at him. Without looking up she
snatched her obnoxious red bag and her jacket off the chair and walked, albeit a little unsteadily, toward the conference room door.

“I’ll call Stuart and recuse myself,” she said, her back to him and her hand poised on the doorknob. “Just . . .” He heard her swallow harshly. “Just stay out of my life. I’m better without you.”

She didn’t wait
for his acknowledgment or his agreement before she purposefully closed the door behind her. Good thing, because Jay’s plans had changed dramatically. No way was he going to stay out of her life now. Not after having her in his arms again, after tasting her once more. Jay made few mistakes, but when he did, he never made the same one twice. He’d let Bridgett slip out of his life once before. That
wasn’t going to happen a second time. Only this time, he wouldn’t make the stupid mistake of letting her have his heart.

He punched a button on the intercom. “Linc, call Stuart Johnson and tell him if Bridgett Janik isn’t the lead attorney on our case, I’ll find another firm to represent us.”

It was a gamble, but he knew Stuart wanted the team’s business. Jay also knew he wanted Bridgett.
Badly.

Three

“Can I say that I truly hate whoever is behind that stupid blog?” Shay Janik reached across the kitchen counter and poured a generous serving of pinot grigio into Bridgett’s wineglass. “I honestly don’t get what her motivation is.”

Coming up behind his wife, Brody Janik wrapped his long arms around her before bending his head down to nuzzle her neck. “Wasn’t it your theory that
the blogger might not be a she at all, Shannon?” he asked.

Bridgett tried in vain to ignore her brother’s PDA. She was beginning to regret her decision to stop by his house, but Carly had already alerted Shay that Bridgett was back in Baltimore. Her sister-in-law had wasted no time texting and inviting her to dinner. Besides, Shay, a PhD in nutrition, was a genius in the kitchen. Brody suffered
from reactive hypoglycemia, a condition that affected his blood sugar, but the meals Shay prepared for him were not only incredibly healthy, but delicious, as well. After a month in Italy, Bridgett figured having Shay prepare her meals might be the one upside to being back in Baltimore.

“I did say that, yes.” Shay swatted Brody away and began furiously julienning carrots. “But the posts are
just too bitchy to be a man. And God help her if I ever find out who she is.” Her whiskey eyes narrowed as she concentrated on her task.

Brody carefully edged away from the counter, his trademark grin lighting up his face. “Don’t mess with Texas.” He winked at Bridgett as he took a seat on the stool next to hers. “Call me crazy, but this is one time I’m glad for her latest installment.”

Shay froze with the knife poised in midair. Both women stared at him. Brody shrugged before leaning over to kiss Bridgett on the head. “I missed you. If her nasty words are the reason you’re back in Baltimore, then I’m glad.” He took a swig from his bottle of water. “Of course, for all we know,
you
could be the blogger and you set this all up just to get away from the wicked wedding planners in
Boston.”

With an exasperated sigh, Shay shook her head at her husband and went back to cutting carrots as Brody laughed beside Bridgett.

“I guess this makes you unofficially part of the Blaze team,” he continued, snatching a sliver of carrot from the cutting board. Bridgett took a fortifying gulp of wine. When she’d arrived back at the office, Stuart had been adamant that he didn’t want
to listen to any reasons for her recusal from the case. That was probably a good thing, because Bridgett had no idea how she was going to explain herself to her boss.

I just had my tongue down our client’s throat? I almost let him take me on the conference room table? Hell, I wanted him to take me.
Or,
I gave him my heart years ago and he destroyed it?

Apparently, the Antichrist had gotten
to Stuart first because he’d threatened to fire the firm if Bridgett didn’t remain on the Blaze defense team. His logic made no sense. Jay knew as well as she did that they couldn’t work together. Their little make-out session in the conference room proved they were still as combustible as oil to a flame. Not to mention the fact
that neither one trusted the other. She’d trusted him once. Never
again. Of course, Jay believed she was the one who’d betrayed him. Somehow, that part hurt the most.

Her brother’s lightning-fast hand pilfered another carrot, distracting her from her painful thoughts. “I’d be careful there, Brody,” Bridgett warned. “If Shay slices off your finger, you might have to actually grow up and get a real job.”

Brody smiled fondly at his wife. “That threat doesn’t
scare me as much as it used to. But since McManus would likely castrate me in court for not fulfilling my end of a contract, I’ll be a good boy and wait until Shannon puts the knife down.”

Shay finished slicing up the vegetables, handing Brody the remainder of the carrot before eyeing Bridgett shrewdly. “Will you be working directly with Mr. McManus, Bridgett?”

Bridgett had been careful
over the years to keep her broken heart a secret. No one in her family knew about that summer in Italy all those years ago. None of them were aware of her relationship with Jay McManus and the scars—figurative and real—that had resulted from their affair.

But Shay was perceptive. And smart; smarter than Bridgett if she was being honest with herself. That was a rare find and it was one of the
reasons she got along with her sister-in-law so well. But it also made Shay dangerous. The tall, gawky woman with the wild hair saw too much. Shay had sensed there was something not quite right between Bridgett and Jay and had called Bridgett on it more than once. Her brother’s house might not be the sanctuary Bridgett had hoped for after all.

“I doubt it.” Bridgett was careful to keep her
lawyer mask in place. She couldn’t afford to slip up in front of Shay. “My associate Dan will be coordinating most of the work on this. I’m going to be handling a big tax evasion case out of Delaware in addition to the Blaze case.” It was the one consolation she’d been able to eke out of Stuart. She’d be the lead counsel for the Blaze case only on paper. Instead, she’d focus on defending a bunch
of tax-dodging chicken farmers. The subject might
be dry, but it beat having to deal with Jay McManus on a day-to-day basis.

“Well, that’s got to be a relief for you,” Brody said as he stood and made his way to the refrigerator. Both women looked at him questioningly. A flash of panic coursed through Bridgett as she wondered if Shay had confided her suspicions about her and Jay to Brody.

“Yeah,” her brother said as he grabbed one of the portioned snacks Shay prepared for him each day. “We all know how you hate cheerleaders, Bridge.”

Bridgett slumped her shoulders in relief and it seemed as if Shay let out a breath she was holding.

“I’m with you there, Bridgett. My sister, Teran, excluded, of course,” Shay said. “And I agree with Brody. I hate the circumstances that
bring you back, but I’m really glad you’re here.” She toasted Bridgett with her wineglass.

She gave Shay a warm smile in return. Perhaps she’d be safe hanging out here with Brody and his astute wife, after all. Bridgett just wouldn’t give Shay anything to go on. Her plan was to stay as far away from Jay McManus as she could while still doing her job. That plan hadn’t worked so well today,
but now that she knew what she was up against, she’d be extra vigilant.

•   •   •

By seven thirty that night, the weight room at the training facility was deserted. The regular season kicked off that Sunday and most of the team was enjoying their normal Tuesday off before practice began in earnest the next morning. Jay took advantage of the empty room to blow off steam on the punching
bag. His plan to keep away from Bridgett had backfired. Not only did he have to deal with finding a kicker before Saturday and a trumped-up lawsuit that was likely a publicity stunt, but his body now craved the one woman who probably hated him the most.

He slammed the bag even harder. A kinder man would have just let her walk away. His right hand struck the bag,
swinging it wide out in front
of him. Too bad Jay hadn’t been considered kind in many years. Steadying himself and the bag, he jabbed it again with a left cross. Instead, he was ruthless; he took what he wanted. And, by God, he wanted Bridgett. Still. Until he’d kissed her today, he hadn’t realized how much he craved her. Or how much she still craved him. The two idealistic twenty-somethings who’d shared a passionate summer
in Italy thirteen years ago no longer existed, but it seemed the heat still burned between them. He could work with that. All he had to do was convince Bridgett.

“Remind me not to ever piss you off in the blogosphere.” Heath Gibson, the newly promoted Blaze offensive coordinator, stepped into Jay’s line of sight before he quickly dodged left to get out of the way of the swinging punching bag.
Not much younger than Jay, Gibson was only two seasons removed from the gridiron, but he’d proven himself to be one hell of a coach in his first year with the Blaze.

Jay stopped mid-punch. “Did you really just say
blogosphere
?”

Heath laughed. “I should probably let you punch me just for that, but if you damaged the goods, then my wife wouldn’t have that terrible crush on you anymore.”
He seemed to give it some thought before stepping in front of the bag. “On second thought, hit me. I’m sure I’ve deserved it at one time or another.”

The coach was married to the younger sister of Jay’s best friend, Blake Callahan, and he definitely deserved more than a fat lip. But that was for something that happened over a decade ago, when Heath and Merrit were in college. Merrit had forgiven
him enough to marry the idiot, so Jay figured he’d leave his lip intact.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass tonight. You’re too valuable to the team to risk you going down with one punch.” Jay took a drink from his water bottle. He heard the metal clank of weights being placed on the bar behind him.

“I’m fully recovered,” Heath said a little bit defensively.

Jay turned to look at the coach. Dressed
in cotton gym shorts and a Blaze T-shirt, his body was none the worse for
wear from the ten years of punishing licks he’d taken as a fullback in the league. But it was a hit to the head that had sidelined his career—not to mention his prospects as a broadcaster. He knew Heath was referring to the severe concussion that had lingered for months.

“I know that. Trust me, if you weren’t, I wouldn’t
have you on my payroll,” Jay said. “It wouldn’t matter who you’re married to.”

Heath shook his head before leaning back on the bench and sliding under the bar with the weights loaded onto it. “Yeah, I know. It’s all about the bottom line with guys like you. I almost feel sorry for those cheerleaders. They won’t know what hit ’em.”

Jay knew he was perceived as being callous and ruthless.
But it was that toughness that had gotten him where he was today.
Mental toughness is just as valuable a commodity as physical toughness
,
his stepfather had drilled into Jay. He may not be able to take the beating his players took every week, but he damn sure could outsmart them, and everyone else, in the boardroom.

“Just as long as none of the players are hitting on them,” Jay said as he
resumed his one-sided sparring.

“Is that what they’re saying?” Heath asked as he easily completed a set of chest presses.

“Their list of grievances is a long one and it includes everything from teeth whitening to spray tans. But, yes, one of the complaints involved some alleged sexual harassment by the players.”

The bar clinked loudly as Heath lowered it back into its holder before
sitting up and wiping his hands and face with a towel. “Teeth whitening? Really?”

Jay looked at the coach sharply. “That’s what you got from all that?”

Heath laughed as he lay back down and grabbed the bar for a second set.

“I don’t take sexual harassment lightly, Gibson. And neither should you,” Jay said. “We have zero tolerance for that kind of behavior in this organization.”

With a heavy sigh, Heath sat up again. “I couldn’t agree with you more, Jay. But you’ve got to remember I was a player on those sidelines not too long ago. There’s not much opportunity for fraternization between players and cheerleaders. Except for the occasional public appearance. The lines can get blurred easily at some of those events, though.” He shrugged. “A lot of these women see this as an
opportunity to further their modeling career or land a pro athlete. A lot of the guys will take what’s being offered and think about the consequences afterward.”

“Are you saying this could be a simple case of a lover spurned?”

“Who knows, man? Women have their own agenda and they aren’t above using a man to achieve it.”

“Spoken from experience?”

Heath lay back down and grabbed
the bar. “First wife. But, trust me, I learned my lesson. Some other young guys on this team might not have, yet. I’ll keep my ears open. Of course, now that that damn blogger has whipped the female fans of the league into a frenzy, I’m sure it’s all I’ll hear about. According to the grapevine, they plan to picket the stadium this weekend.” He grunted as he powered through his reps. “Whoever’s behind
that blog really knows how to hit a team.”

Jay gave the bag another thrashing. This wasn’t the first case of cheerleaders suing a team, but for some reason the activists championing women had targeted Jay and the Blaze. Of course, this was the first time that damn blog had mentioned one of the class action suits. He was beginning to think Hank was right and whoever was behind the blog had
something out for the Blaze.

“She seems to have this team in her crosshairs,” Jay said as he wiped down his face. “She even picked on you before she unleashed on DeShawn and Brody last season.”

“Oh yeah, she tried hard to screw up my career—not to mention my reconciliation with Merrit.” He was breathing a little more heavily as he dropped the bar back into place. “But I think she’s been
an equal opportunity pain in the ass.
Just ask Blake. He’s had more than one client targeted with her venom.”

Blake Callahan was the vice president of his father’s successful advertising company. But he also managed a small public relations firm that handled elite professional athletes from a variety of sports. Jay tossed the towel in the basket the trainer left out. “You’re probably right.
I’ve been so concentrated on my own guys that I haven’t noticed who else she’s targeted. I should probably recruit Blake to help us out whoever’s writing this crap.”

“Good luck with that. Blake’s got his own sexual harassment problems.”

Jay looked at the coach questioningly. He and Blake hadn’t spoken for a few weeks. Their most frequent mode of correspondence was text messages ribbing
each other over their local sports teams. “He hasn’t mentioned that.”

Heath grunted again as he lifted the bar. “Probably because most of it is bullshit. He thinks a former employee is trying to smear the firm.”

“Grant?” Merrit’s former fiancé had been a partner in the Callahan agency until he unceremoniously dumped Blake’s sister and stole several clients.

“Who knows,” Heath said
with a huff. “But even alleged sexual harassment is a stigma a guy doesn’t want.”

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