The Quarterback Sneak (7 page)

Stop it!
The last thought was too
close for comfort. She was enough. She was more than enough. She
didn’t want Liam to want her.
Well, maybe a little.
Maybe
more than a little.

As the game progressed, the owner’s box grew
silent. The score—0 to 7—favored the away team. The Cougars looked
flat and Liam’s aim off. They’d had a perfect preseason and had
home-field advantage, but the Warriors were pounding the Cougars’
offense. She gripped her seat each time Liam was sacked. Normally,
she’d be screaming from her seat for the quarterback to scramble,
but she couldn’t do that now. It wouldn’t do for Liam’s fiancée to
lose her cool in front of her father’s guests.

Only seconds remained on the clock as Liam
threw an impossible pass. The opposing cornerback beat out Billy
Burner to catch it in the end zone. Interception. Game over. A loss
for the Cougars—and Liam.

“See you at the next home game.” Angel
grabbed another bag of nuts on her way up the steps, apparently
unconcerned that
her
husband had missed the pass.

Hayden nodded, biting her tongue.

Hannah followed Angel without a word but
then stopped and came back down the steps. “Hayden, a word of
advice.”

“Sure.”

“Be Liam’s fiancée, not the owner’s
daughter. The players get enough grief from the coaches, press, and
fans. Your man needs your support.”

“I’ll break out the pom-poms.” She’d shore
up his ego for the sake of next week’s game. She knew her football
in and out, but she’d play dumb and pretend he didn’t stink up the
field today.

Just a week ago, she would have called him a
loser to his face, but now she couldn’t bring herself to do it. His
poor play was partly her fault with all the media coverage leading
up to the game. She’d done enough damage.

Besides, she had a part to play—the adoring
fiancée. Unfortunately, it was becoming less and less of an
act.

W
hile Liam iced his
shoulder in the trainer’s’ room, the team’s cute but no nonsense
public relations liaison kept the press at bay. Thank God for
Meredith. Faced with a no-win scenario, Liam didn’t know which he
dreaded more—tackling the sportswriters or Hayden, who he was sure
would have a lot to say.

He didn’t need his quarterback rating to
tell him he’d played his worst game as a Cougar—or ever—which was
saying something since he’d had a lot of bad games as a
professional quarterback.

Today, he couldn’t hit the side of the barn
he’d use for practice as a kid. The quarterback was the pulse of
the offense and Liam’s arm was dead on arrival. Throw after throw,
too hard, too soft, too high, or too low. Getting sacked three
times didn’t help. His body ached from the blunt force of the
tackles, but nothing hurt as much as losing did.

Near the end of the final quarter, he’d
thought the only good thing the analysts might say is that he
hadn’t thrown an interception. But he jinxed himself even thinking
about that. Not that he really believed in jinxes, but the thought
rattled his confidence on the last play.

He didn’t need to see a replay on ESPN to
remember how he lost the first game of the season.

Billy Burner ran from the sideline to join
them in the huddle. “Hail Mary the ball to me.”

Liam hated the stupid nickname for the
desperation move. Long pass in the final seconds, low probability
of success. The quarterback who originated the term said he’d need
to pray for divine intervention to connect with his receiver.

“Right up your alley, McQueen,” Hondo had
said.

Liam ignored him. Just as he didn’t believe
in the jinx, he didn’t believe that God cared much about football.
Miracles belonged to the dying, not to millionaire athletes. Liam
never prayed to the win the game. He did pray for God to make him
strong and to keep him and the players free from injury. “Just keep
Dunham off my ass.”

The huddle broke and Liam read the defense
as he approached the line of scrimmage.
Blitz.
They were
going to come at him. He could call an audible to try and throw
them off, but the defense, heck, the whole stadium knew there was
only one play, one chance for the home team to tie the game.
Instead he decided to throw them off with a quick count. He backed
off into the shotgun position. “Code red one,” he’d yelled.

Hondo knew the signal and hiked the ball
back to Liam’s waiting hands. His linemen bought him precious
seconds as Burner flew down the field, but Liam needed more time as
Dunham broke through and chased him out of the pocket. Hurdling
over a fallen lineman, he released the ball just before hitting the
line of scrimmage. The crowd roared as the ball sailed in a
movie-perfect arc toward the end zone. Then the ball brushed off
Burner’s fingertips and landed into the Warriors cornerback’s
hands. Intercepted. Game over.

The collective moan from the fans had
deafened Liam’s ears more than any cheer ever had. He’d
disappointed them. Again. Then the booing rained down from the
stands. Some players claimed they couldn’t hear the fans, but Liam
felt each hiss and catcall like a tackle from a charging
lineman.

“Sorry man,” Burner said as they’d headed to
the locker room.

“No, bro, it’s all on me.” Liam thumped his
chest.

“Win as a team, lose as a team.”

Liam nodded, even though he knew it wasn’t
true. Nothing would be said, but his teammates would silently place
the blame on him, especially the defense who held the Warriors to
only a single touchdown, keeping the Cougars in the game. Then
there was Romer, the rookie quarterback, who would no doubt be
gloating about his rival’s bad start.

So Liam iced his shoulder and took his time
in the shower, going over in his head how he should handle the
inevitable onslaught of questions.

Dressed in a suit and feeling calmer, he
left the safe haven of the trainers’ room ready to face off against
the press. Because of the media frenzy created by his engagement,
the Cougars had set up a formal press conference rather than the
usual post-game stand-up.

At least a table would separate him and the
press. Win or lose, he hated how the reporters got up in his face
with their microphones and cameras after every game. He almost felt
sorry for Hayden, dealing with media on a daily basis. Though she
seemed to enjoy all the attention.

As he took his seat, flashes from the
cameras nearly blinded him, and the shouts of a dozen reporters
muddled his ability to distinguish a specific question. But he
caught old man Middleton’s glare from the back of the room. Good,
maybe the owner was having second thoughts about the wisdom of
using Liam as his sacrificial lamb.

Determined to set the tone of the
conference, Liam leaned forward to the microphone to issue a
statement. “I’m not talking about my personal life.”

Meredith, handling her public relations’
role, pointed to a reporter from the
New Jersey Examiner
.
“Tony, get us started.”

“How much do you think your poor play has to
do with your engagement to the daughter of the Cougars owner?” the
reporter asked.

Liam rubbed the tension knotting the back of
his neck. Maybe he could deflect further inquiry with a
self-effacing remark. “I don’t need anyone’s help to suck. Just
look at last year’s Championship.” That earned him a few
chuckles.

Tony followed up. “So you don’t think Hayden
Middleton is a distraction?”

“During a game?” Liam decided to stick with
humor. “Only if she came running naked out on the field. Did I miss
that too?”

A burst of laughter sounded off the walls.
Liam joined in. “Now can we talk about football? Otherwise, I’m out
of here.”

“Given your past, isn’t your engagement to a
known party girl a danger to your sobriety?” The question came from
the back on the room.

Scowling, Liam identified a reporter named
Ender—a hack who had gleefully written about his hard fall from
grace. Who let that prick in? The team had revoked Ender’s press
privileges long before Liam even joined the team, after the
so-called sports reporter targeted running back Miller and his
supermodel wife with a torrid personal piece that had nothing to do
with the game.

Liam didn’t intend for the same thing to
happen to Hayden and him.

“I said no questions about my personal
life.” Before anger got the best of him, he rose from his seat and
headed deliberately away from the microphone.

The room exploded into chaos as he walked
out the door. Meredith followed him, her heels clacking like cleats
on the concrete floor, pleading with him to return to the lion’s
den. He kept walking. Middleton created the media circus; he could
darn well rein in the rabid reporters too. The sour smell of stale
beer hit his senses as he passed by the entrance to the stands.
Even though beer wasn’t his poison on choice, a craving for a drink
hit him hard.

And it had nothing to with Hayden. She might
he harder on him than the press, but at least she’d stick to
football, even if it was to tell him he sucked. That he could
handle. Questions about his past left him ashamed. He’d yet to
forgive himself and he never would.

He didn’t expect to find his fake fiancée
waiting with the wives and girlfriends. But there she was, chatting
with Hannah and Angel. Now there was a turn of events. He’d heard
first hand how nasty Hayden was to Angel last season. Now they were
laughing like best friends.

She waved good-bye and walked over to him
with a big fake smile plastered across her face. It was a little
creepy. Running back and confronting the reporters seemed less
scary.

“Hey, babe,” she said as she reached up to
pat his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said cautiously. Where was the
Hayden that called him a loser? Who hated the use of the word,
hey?”

They walked to his car. “It’s only the first
game of the season. You’ll get em’ next week.”

“Yeah.” Confused, he slowed up as they
reached his Hummer.

Hayden kept on to the passenger side. She
turned to face him. “And don’t get me started on the refs.”

“Okay, did you have a brain hemorrhage or
something?”

“What? I’m just trying to be a good
fiancée.”

Suddenly, he didn’t care about the false
engagement. He pulled her into his arms. “Then, I guess I should be
a good fiancé and kiss you.”

“Like, finally.”

A soft mewing sound escaped her mouth as he
brushed his lips against hers. The desire to bring out the feline
side of her hit him hard. He wanted her to hiss with frustration
when he wouldn’t let her come, to roar with release when he did,
and then purr her satisfaction as she fell asleep in his arms.

But they had an audience. He let her go and
nodded to the crowded parking garage. “We have spectators.”

She looked oddly disappointed. “Good to
know.”

Liam signed a couple of autographs for the
kids who asked, glad that anyone valued his signature after that
loss. A couple of Hayden’s fans asked for her autograph too. Once
the crowd dispersed, they both slid into his car.

“Look Hayden, I appreciate the show of
support, especially in public.” He started the car and then turned
her, outstretching his right arm across the passenger seat. “But
you don’t have to boost my ego. When we’re alone, you can be real
with me.”

“Oh, thank God.” She put his face between
her hands. “Because you totally sucked today.” Then she planted a
big kiss on his lips.

The kiss she unleashed softened the blow of
her words, but hardened him elsewhere.

He groaned when she climbed over the console
to straddle his thighs. Grabbing her luscious ass, he pressed her
against his erection. She rocked her body along his throbbing cock
and tightened her thighs against his. The bruising pain from the
beating of the defense and the humiliation of defeat faded until
only one part of him ached.

She broke away, panting for breath. Her blue
eyes darkened with lust. “You can score with me, Liam,” she
whispered.

“You’re killing me, Hayden.”

“That’s the idea,” she said her voice soft.
He held her gaze as she sucked his thumb into her mouth.

To hell with his stupid vow of celibacy. She
wanted him and he wanted her.
Now
. Losing himself in her
would numb today’s loss. She’d ease his need for a drink…

Then she pushed back her hair and he caught
sight of her engagement ring—the diamond that had sanctified a
marriage that had lasted sixty years.

No woman had ever tempted him like Hayden.
Not even close. But he didn’t want to lose himself or be numb with
her. Just the opposite. He wanted to feel with his whole heart, to
find himself again.

Hayden was a beautiful distraction and a
naughty influence. She wasn’t a danger to his sobriety, but to his
sanity. Heaven help him.