The All-Star Antes Up (Wager of Hearts #2) (22 page)

BOOK: The All-Star Antes Up (Wager of Hearts #2)
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He disconnected, and drained his wineglass to the bottom. “My friend Ron says the coast is clear. I guess that means I should go.”

So he wasn’t going to finish their interrupted conversation.

“Stay here as long as you like,” she said. She’d welcome any time she could steal with him.

“I have to talk to Trevor.”

“What are you going to say?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression grim. “Hell if I know. I was pretty definite about the rules, but he either doesn’t listen or doesn’t care. Or both.”

Miranda saw the hurt in Luke’s eyes. For all his confidence and success, his brother’s betrayal still wounded him. “It must be hard to be your brother,” she said. “Trevor knows that he’ll never be as successful as you are.”

“He could be, in his own field,” Luke said. “He’s smart, really smart.”

Miranda thought of Trevor’s free use of his brother’s apartment and the concierge services that went with it. “I get the feeling you’ve helped Trevor a few times along the way.”

“Why wouldn’t I when I have the resources to do it?”

“That might create resentment. He feels entitled to take what you offer because you have so much, but he sees himself as a failure compared to you. So he tries to pull you down.”

He pinned her with those laser blue eyes. “What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

She met his gaze. “Tell him you love him. Explain how much power that gives him over you, even though you appear to be invulnerable. Hope he rises to the occasion.”

“Trev and I aren’t big on that kind of talk.”

“Maybe this is the time to try it. He wants your attention, so he might respond better than you think.” She touched his shoulder in comfort. “You can’t force other people to behave in a certain way. All you can do is be true to yourself and hope your brother can respond to that positively. If he can’t, maybe he shouldn’t be a significant part of your life.”

She watched for his reaction, but he had on that impenetrable mask he wore on the football field.

“Cut him off?” Luke asked.

“That would be the most extreme outcome.” Miranda hoped she hadn’t started something that would damage Luke and Trevor’s relationship further.

He stood with his head bowed as he appeared to consider her words. But when he lifted his gaze, his eyes blazed with a hunger that meant he was done with the topic of Trevor. “I don’t know why I’m wasting our time together talking about my brother.”

He put her glass on the counter and interlaced his hands with hers, pulling her in so he could slant his mouth over hers. She tugged one hand free and curled it around the back of his neck to bring him closer, putting all she felt into the kiss.

He gave her back the same intensity in a long, temperature-raising embrace. When he lifted his head, Miranda wanted to shriek in frustration. His erection was hard against her, and she was liquid with need.

“Tomorrow,” he said, his voice husky. “Spend the night with me.”

“Yes,” she said, her yearning nearly at a point of pain. “Where?”

His voice turned granite hard. “I’m pretty sure I’ll have my place to myself again.”

“Remember that you love him.”

“Sugar, that’s the only reason I told Ron to leave Trevor for me.” He turned her so that she was snugged up to his side. “Walk me to the door. I don’t want to let go yet.”

That made her melt into him, even as she thought how glad she was not to be Trevor tonight. There was cold anger blazing in Luke’s eyes. She could feel it in the rigidity of his body.

They reached her door, where he tightened his arm in a brief squeeze and released her. “No more kisses to tempt me,” he said.

She laid her palm against his cheek. “Good luck with your brother.”

He turned the doorknob. “I’ve always believed you make your own luck, but tonight I’ll take whatever you can send me.”

And he was gone, closing the door firmly behind him. She jogged to the window and twitched back the curtain to watch him stride across the street to where his driver waited. As he started to fold his body into the backseat of the car, Luke looked back and raised his hand in farewell.

So he’d caught her at the window. Unembarrassed, she waved in return before letting the curtain fall back into place.

A cold, hard lump of panic clogged her throat. Only two more days.

Luke sat back on the car’s leather seat and stretched out his legs. “Back to my place.”

As the limo glided down the empty street, Luke folded his arms and let his chin sink onto his chest. Trevor should be his most pressing concern, but instead his mind turned to Miranda.

That rule he had about not dating during football season? He had made it, so he could break it. Problem was, everyone knew about it. People would talk, and it would create expectations.

He grimaced. And what about his thirty-six-year-old body? When he was around Miranda, he wanted to touch her. If he touched her, he wanted to make love to her. His body needed rest when he wasn’t training. Could he force himself to kiss her good night and go to his own empty bed to sleep?

He muttered a curse.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Just talking to myself, Brian,” Luke said. “I guess that’s a sign of my age, too.”

“Your age? You’re only as old as you feel, and the way you play, you must feel like a twenty-year-old.”

Luke shook his head. “Age and treachery can fend off youth and talent for only so long.”

Especially when the Super Bowl was on the line.

Could he ask Miranda to give him time, to wait until the end of the season? He shifted on the seat as he considered how to phrase the request.
Look, I’m interested in continuing our relationship, but not until the football season is over. Can we put whatever is between us on hold until then and try to pick up where we left off?
It was only for a few months. She might be willing to do that.

Unless she met someone else. He smacked a fist onto the seat beside him. He had no right to expect her not to see other men just because he was focused on moving a pigskin toward a goalpost.

Maybe she was already dating someone else. She’d called their relationship an interlude. She might consider him just an extended one-night stand before she went back to her other boyfriend.

He was about to pound the seat again but got a grip on himself. That wasn’t Miranda. If she were already in a relationship, she would have given Luke the tour on Tuesday and then told him—very politely—she wasn’t interested in anything more.

That made his dilemma worse. If Miranda agreed to wait for him, she wouldn’t allow herself to start another relationship. Since Luke had no idea what their long-term prospects were, he didn’t feel right asking her to put her love life on hold.

He slammed the seat cushion so hard he felt the blow vibrate up his arm.

“What the hell’s the matter with you, Archer?” Luke muttered to himself. He stood in his own foyer with his head thrown back and his hands shoved in his pockets, curbing his anger to a manageable level. He didn’t want to go in and confront Trevor. He wanted to go back to Miranda and forget about his brother’s betrayal. He’d never before hesitated to do what needed to be done. But Miranda’s words echoed in his mind. Trevor was not a teammate or a coach. He was Luke’s brother, and Luke loved him. That complicated things.

Taking a deep breath, Luke walked into the quiet, tidy living room. It was empty, but the sliding door to the terrace was open, letting in a draft of chill October air. As Luke passed the coffee table, he noticed that the glass top had been wiped to a sparkling clean. Ron was thorough.

Luke stepped out onto the tiles of the terrace and slid the door closed behind him. Trevor sat slumped on one of the rattan sofas beside the glowing embers of the fire pit.

“Go ahead. Rip me a new one,” Trevor said, not moving.

Luke sat across from him. “You knew you were screwing with my career.”

“Yeah, I suck.”

Luke sat forward and laced his fingers together between his knees. “No, you have a lot going for you, Trev. Now get off your ass and use it.”

“Says the legend-in-his-own-time billionaire quarterback.”

Luke kept his expression neutral, but his anger surged. “I’m not here as some yardstick for you to measure up to. Live your own life. If you do that, I’m here for you.” He waited, hoping his brother would respond, but Trevor made no comment. “But when you betray my trust, I draw the line. It’s time for you to leave.”

“I’ll remove my noxious presence in the morning.” Trevor’s words were slurred. He must have had a hell of a lot to drink.

“Tonight. You tell my driver where you want him to take you. Once he drops you off, I’m done.”

Trevor levered himself upright. “It’s the middle of the night. Where am I supposed to go?”

“This is the city that never sleeps.” Luke gave it another shot. “Why, Trev?”

“Because I heard from your alma mater today, and their answer was no.” Trevor glared at him. “I’m so crappy that not even your all-powerful influence at the University of Texas, where they worship the ground you walk on, could get me a job.”

“I’m sorry, bro.” Luke had told the dean at UT he’d appreciate the search committee giving Trevor a good, long look, but not to hire him if the fit wasn’t right. Maybe he should have been more insistent.

His brother sagged back again, his head angling upward so he was looking at the sky. When he spoke, his voice was low. “Sometimes I hate you.”

Trevor’s words slammed into him like Rodney D’Olaway’s massive shoulder.

“No, I hate how you make me feel,” Trevor said, correcting himself. “Like a loser.”

Now pure rage boiled up in Luke, scalding hot. “So you want me to blow the season so you can feel better about yourself?” He huffed out a snort of derision. “Stop playing the victim.”

“You should try being your brother. Ma and Dad are so in awe of you that they can’t believe you’re their son. I’m just the average kid they had to help with homework and college applications while you were off becoming a superstar.”

“Ma and Dad think I’m a mistake, a jock in a family of brains.”

Trevor shook his head. “You’re dead wrong. When I was fourteen, I overheard Ma talking to one of her friends. Ma said you would succeed at whatever you went after, whether it was a Super Bowl ring or getting elected president of the United States. The best thing she could do was to get out of the way.”

Luke’s worldview tipped and spun. All those years of thinking his parents favored Trevor because he was more intellectual had been wrong. But his parents had been wrong, too. He’d needed them as much as Trevor had, in a different way. “You get your digs in about my lack of a PhD.”

“It’s my one puny weapon in a losing battle.”

Soul-deep weariness rolled through Luke. “It’s not a battle. We’re on the same side.”

Trevor made a sound of disbelief. “You’re the most competitive human being I’ve ever met. You have to beat everyone.”

That was like a pair of cleats stomping on his chest. “Have I ever done anything but help you?”

“Why shouldn’t you? You won’t miss what you give to me.”

“So I don’t give you enough?” Luke couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Trevor sat up, only to drop his head in his hands. “I don’t know what I’m saying.” He raised his gaze to Luke. “I’m out of here.”

He pushed himself up from the sectional and stumbled to the sliding door, fumbling to get it open. Luke leaned back and scrubbed his palms over his face. Miranda would probably want him to let Trevor stay until morning, but Luke was too pissed off.

And hurt. Yeah, it hurt to know his brother dismissed what Luke had done for him over the years. It hurt to hear that Trevor thought they were competitors. It even hurt to find out that his parents thought he hadn’t needed their help.

Did they think he was made of stone? That they could pound on him, lean on him, take from him without inflicting any damage?

No, they thought he was made of ice.

Chapter 20

Miranda couldn’t stop yawning, even though the morning had been hectic. After Luke had departed last night, she hadn’t been able to go back to sleep for another hour. Even when she did, she had vivid dreams that involved tuxedos, football helmets, and Luke wearing both or nothing at all.

Today she felt a sense of frantic melancholy. He hadn’t contradicted her when she said their relationship was going to end the day he jogged back onto the practice field, so she was desperate to spend as much time with him as possible. Now here she was, waiting for the phone screen to light up with his caller ID.

“I need a distraction,” she said to herself, picking up the phone and dialing Patty’s cell number.

“Miranda, how did you know?” her sister-in-law greeted her.

“Know what?”

“That I was about to call you. I just brought Theo home from school because he has a fever, and Percy, the new hired hand, has been out sick for two days. So I’ve been helping Dennis, but now I have to take care of Theo. Any chance you have a day off this weekend?”

“This weekend?” Dismay tightened her throat. “I’m off on Sunday. I could come up first thing in the morning.”

“Could you come after work on Saturday? Assuming you’re not on the late shift.” Patty blew out a breath. “Dennis can barely handle all the milking and cheese making when Percy’s here full-time. I don’t want him to exhaust himself now that I can’t pitch in.”

Of course she could . . . if she gave up her chance of seeing Luke one last time. Her conscience battled with her deepest, darkest desires. Of course, Luke hadn’t said anything about seeing her Saturday night. She was just assuming, hoping.

“I’ll drive up Saturday right after work.” Regret seared through her like a hot dagger, but she couldn’t leave her brother to face all the farm chores alone. “Can you find another hand for next week, in case Percy is still sick?”

“Everyone around here is coming down with the flu, so it’s going to be tough.” Patty sighed. “I’m just praying that Dennis and I don’t get sick. We both got flu shots, but you never know if those are going to work.”

“Here they’re calling it an epidemic. Our messenger has spent the last two days running to drugstores, picking up prescriptions for our residents.”

Patty groaned. “Well, stay away from unhealthy people, and no swapping spit with anyone. I need you hale and hearty. Seriously, sweetie, you are the best sister-in-law ever.”

Patty had no idea of how very saintly Miranda felt at this moment, giving up the prospect of her last date with Luke Archer. However, she did not intend to follow the no-spit-swapping rule tonight. Miranda forced a smile into her voice. “Remind Dennis of that the next time he’s giving me grief. Tell poor Theo I’ll bring up a Shake Shack treat for him.”

“That will cure him faster than all the meds in Doc Redding’s office.”

Miranda disconnected and grabbed her spotted stress ball out of the drawer. “Stupid cows!” she said, hurling it against the wall so hard it ricocheted back behind her.

That reminded her of Luke catching it when he’d walked in the door, and she lowered her head into her hands with a long, agonized moan. She’d been tormented about only having two more nights with Luke. Now it was down to one.

“It’s better this way,” she muttered. The more time she spent with him, the more involved she became. This would limit the damage. “Who am I kidding? It stinks.”

She got up and closed her door so she could eat her lunch in peace. As she walked back to her desk, her cell phone buzzed. Swiping it up, she checked the caller ID, her heart flipping when she saw Luke’s name.

She froze, trying to decide whether to tell him about Saturday night. But he hadn’t asked her to meet him. Maybe because it was the night before a game, he couldn’t go out, even though he wasn’t playing in it. And he’d never answered her question about whether he had sex before a game.

She would wait until she saw him tonight.

She swiped her finger over the phone and said, “I can’t look at my front door without thinking of you.”

She heard him suck in a sharp breath of surprise, but he recovered quickly. “I can’t look at play diagrams without thinking of you. Or at the weight room. Definitely not at the weight room.”

Miranda felt the heat rising and melting her insides. “Play diagrams? Really?”

“All those
X
s and
O
s.”

Who’d have thought the big, tough football player could see hugs and kisses in a play diagram? “You win.”

“Always do, sugar.” His drawl was like warm molasses.

She switched to a more serious subject. “How did it go with Trevor?”

His heavy silence answered her before he did. “I threw him out. Nicely.”

“Nicely?”

“I told him my driver would take him anywhere he wanted to go.”

“Did you talk to him first?”

Another heavy pause. “I tried. He was drunk or high or both. All he did was whine. I’ve heard that tune before.”

“I’m sorry.” She said it gently, because there was pain in his voice. He had tried, and his brother hadn’t been able to reciprocate.

“I know you don’t have long for lunch, so let’s talk about tonight.” His tone changed on the last word.

“Is that a polite way of saying you need to go?”

“No, I’m benched, so I have all the time in the world. And you know I like to take it slow.”

His husky drawl sent liquid heat to pool low in her belly, but she wasn’t going to let him have all the fun. “Not last night. You went for it hard and fast.” She let her voice drop low. “I like it both ways.”

He groaned, and she allowed herself a satisfied smirk.

“Sugar, you better watch out because I’m about to drive back there, lock us in your office, and do it both ways, so you can make up your mind which one you like better.”

A vision of Luke storming through her office door with that focused look in his eyes made her squirm on her chair. “Let me know when you’re leaving so I can clear my desk off.” Now she conjured up the image of herself sitting on her desk with her skirt up around her waist and Luke between her thighs. Her panties grew damp.

“When do you get off work?” His voice was a harsh rasp.

“Six.”

“Damn. Five more hours. How do you feel about meeting me at my place? Trevor is no longer an impediment.”

She’d wanted that, but now the problems it raised struck her. Luke’s home happened to be her workplace. So which one took precedence?

He spoke into the silence. “If it makes you uncomfortable, we’ll go back to the Ritz-Carlton.”

But she wanted to see his home, to see him
in
his home. “No, it’s fine. I was just thinking about logistics.”

“Come in the private entrance. The security cameras back there are monitored by Ron’s guys, not the building’s. Spindle won’t know.”

It wasn’t just Orin. Everyone who worked at the Pinnacle gossiped about what went on in the building. It was like a small town, only vertical. Could she really keep her visit to Luke’s apartment a secret?

Maybe not, but she only had one more night with him, and she was darned if she was going to ruin it with second guesses. “What’s the code?”

He recited a string of letters and numbers. “Text me when you’re on your way.” His voice was husky when he added, “I’ll be waiting for you in the elevator. We can get started on the ride up.”

Memories of being pressed between Luke’s body and her door—two hard surfaces that felt entirely different—exploded in her mind. “You don’t waste any time, cowboy.”

“When the clock is running, you have to keep moving the ball.”

Luke lowered his phone with a grin. Tonight was going to be a low-key evening at his home, because he’d planned a blowout of a date for tomorrow.

Saturday, he was going to fly her to the mountains of West Virginia to dine at the Aerie, a restaurant so exclusive he’d had to call in two favors to get the reservations. He had booked a private room so no one could photograph them. And they would have plenty of time to make love as his jet sped them there and back before the game-night curfew.

Since he couldn’t ask her to wait for him, he was going to make sure he left a big impression on her. It would make her future dates with other men pale by comparison so she’d still be free when he could come back into her life. At least, that was the plan.

When the phone chimed again, he checked the caller ID and blew out an exasperated breath. How did Gavin Miller know when Luke was in a good mood so the writer could destroy it? “What is it, Miller?”

“And hello to you, too, Archer.”

“I’m at work, so cut to the chase.”

“What exactly does a benched quarterback work on?” Miller didn’t even try to make his question sound like anything other than a barb.

“The same thing a blocked writer works on.”

“Bastard. But I walked right into that.” Miller’s tone was flat rather than angry. “I called to see what you thought of Trainor’s Chloe. The real deal or a mere fling?”

“I guess we’ll find out in a year.”

“And what about you and your pretty concierge? Real or a fling?”

So Miller had seen the photo. “Do you believe everything you read in the gossip rags?”

“I’ll be drummed out of the fraternal order of writers for saying this, but a picture is worth a thousand words. You and the lady were holding hands.”

“Camouflage. It keeps the autograph hounds away if it looks like you’re on a date. She was being paid to give me a cultural tour of New York. I aspire to be as suave as you.”

Miller barked out a laugh. “I don’t believe a single thing you just said, my boyo. Except the part about my being suave.”

Thank God he’d kept Miranda away from the gala and Miller’s insatiable prying. “Miranda works for the building where I live. That’s all.” The lie came easily, even though he was visualizing her in the elevator with her legs wrapped around his waist and her back against the wall as he surged into her. His cock began to harden.

“Ah, yes, that pesky rule of yours about no women during the football season. I thought you might put it on hold while you’re benched.” Miller injected a question into his tone.

“A week isn’t long enough to find the right woman.”

“Not a believer in love at first sight, then? All that ice around your heart takes time to melt.”

That goddamned nickname. Luke said something unflattering about Miller’s parentage.

“Touchy, aren’t we?” Miller taunted. “Never mind. I’ll go back to trying to cajole Julian Best to come out and shoot a one-liner at his nemesis.”

Sympathy pinged in Luke’s rib cage. “It’ll happen, Gavin. My bruises are healing. So will your muse.”

“I’m a commercial hack. We don’t believe in muses. We just sit down at the computer and crank out books.”

“And I’m just a dumb jock.” Luke recognized the edge of anger in Miller’s voice at the criticism that was leveled at him. Probably by those who envied his success. “Maybe you just need a vacation. Change up the scenery.”

“Tried it. Tried working on a different book. Tried writing nonfiction. It was all garbage, but it doesn’t matter anyway. My agent says it has to be Julian Best.”

“What about your love life? You found Ms. Right yet?”

“I don’t have time. I need to stare at my blank computer screen for ten hours a day. However, your personal trainer is quite lovely.”

“You’re wasting your time there.”

“Ah, I had a feeling she might play for the other side. At the gala, she resisted my potent animal magnetism without any difficulty.”

Doug stuck his head in the empty office where Luke sat with his feet propped up on the desk. When he saw Luke was on the phone, he signaled that he would wait outside.

“Miller, I have to get back to warming the bench. I wish you luck, man.”

“I don’t need luck. I need a goddamned miracle.”

Luke hung up and swung his feet down from the desk. “Doug, you want something?”

His assistant popped through the door. “Coach wants you in his office. Said he couldn’t get through on your cell phone.”

“Any idea what’s so urgent?”

Doug shook his head. “I’m just the messenger boy.”

“So I won’t shoot you.” When Doug looked baffled, Luke felt old. He walked out the door with Doug trailing him. “Would you read my memoirs?”

“Heck, yeah! Are you working on them?”

“No. Why would you want to read them? You know me, in the here and now.”

“No offense, Boss Ice, but you don’t give away much. I’d like to get a glimpse inside your brain.”

“Huh. There’s nothing special in there.” Luke tapped his temple. “It’s just football.”

“It’s football
legend
. You’re a superhero to a lot of people.” Doug grinned. “Including me.”

“You’ve seen me in my jockstrap. There’s nothing heroic about that.”

“In fact, I’ve been offered a lot of money to take a picture of you in your jockstrap,” Doug said.

“You’re a good guy, Weiss. Maybe I’ll give you another raise in six months.”

“I’ll put it on your calendar.” Doug peeled off as they approached Junius Farrell’s door.

“Archer, is your cell phone busted?” Junius sat behind his giant desk. “Shut the door, will you?”

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